The Devil's Angel (The Devil's Assistant Series Book 4)

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I needed a drink. It was the first thought that came to mind as I fought my way through the tide of blackness and back into consciousness. My head pounded like I had a really bad hangover. For a moment I wondered if it truly was a hangover and I had consumed a few too many glasses of red wine. But then I remembered being surrounded, the heavy limbs as the sedative had coursed through my sister. A split second of panic before darkness had consumed me.

My stomach protested and I rolled on to my side in time to retch up my stomach contents all over the floor. Stomach acid burned the back of my throat as I heaved and the acrid stench of bile filled my senses. My cheek felt damp from where the sick clung to my skin but I was too tired to care. My stomach was in knots as it fought to expel the drugs from my body.

Groaning loudly, I fought to open my eyes. It was like they had been glued shut. It took all of my concentration to pull them apart. Dim light speared into my head bringing about another wave of nausea. I retched and heaved but nothing more spilled from my body. Drained, I slumped onto my back, panting from the exertion.

I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and go back to sleep like my body was demanding but I fought against the tiredness. Slowly my eyes adjusted to the light even though it still sent spears of pain racing through my head.

Letting my gaze drift, I was met with drab grey walls and cold iron bars. Forcing myself to move, I pushed my body up off of het ground, putting my knees under me so that I could crawl the few feet between me and my only route out of here. As I got closer, it was clear that these cells were old, the metal bars crudely made however the locks securing the doors in places were all new and gleamed.

Wrapping my hands around the bars, gripping them firmly, I tugged with all my strength. It wasn't a lot. With two sharp tugs I was panting and leaning against the bars. They were unaffected by my efforts but I was already slipping back towards unconsciousness and my hands were throbbing from where the jagged edges of the metal bars had cut into the palms of my hands.

"Save your energy," a voice croaked. It was male and drifted from a few feet away.

Pressing my face to the bars, ignoring the way the metal stabbed into my cheeks, I tried to get a view of the hall beyond. I couldn't see much as the only source of light came from a small misshapen window a little way down the corridor. It was several feet above the floor - not a potential escape route.

"Who are you?" I rasped, my throat aching from the strain of speech.

Tearing at the bottom of my t-shirt, exposing my midsection but I didn't have it in me to care. I used the torn off scrap of fabric to wipe the evidence of my weakness from my face.

"Caspar," the voice murmured back quietly. "You?"

"Savannah," I replied, as I tossed the scrap of fabric to the side and then allowed myself to slump even further into the bars. "Is there anyone else here?"

After much shuffling, other voices shouted out their names, some weaker than others. Some slurred as if they too were struggling against the effects of sedatives.

Pressing my face further against the bars, I found that the pain brought a margin of clarity to my muddied mind but it still felt like I was operating on half capacity.

"Do you know where we are?" I asked, my mouth struggling to form the words.

"No, I was unconscious when I was brought it." Caspar replied, his voice cracking over some of the words. Despite the way his voice broke, I could detect a hint of an American accent. "And no, I don't know who they are. As you may know, I am not from around here."