Burning Souls (F.T Sequel)

Thirty-Eight

*Julia's POV*

The sound of the iron bars creaking open painfully loud reverberates in the inside of my skull. I grip the sides of my head in a pained groan, bending down to rest it in between my knees as I wait for the noise to pass. I've been isolated for several days now, and any difference in this desolate, eerie environment will have my inner survivalist instincts scream to get out. I look up through heavy, tired eyes and wrap my shaking arms around my legs, squinting as a flashlight shines impossibly brightly right into my eyes. I look to the side quickly and hear the click of a button, followed by an uncaring chuckle. The bright light disappears, drowning the pitiful cell in a familiar, swallowing darkness once more. 

"Oops," Gabriel says, and I can only imagine him wearing that lopsided grin that he sports so pridefully well. "I forgot about your sensitivities for a second there."

"No, you didn't," I hiss, surprising myself at the harsh croaking of my voice. How long has it been since I spoke aloud last? 

"No, I didn't," he agrees, his voice still carrying the impression of a smile in it. I hear his posh shoes' fine leather walk over the smooth, cold stone of the cell, throwing echoes against the tight, humid walls. "So-" His eyes scan the close walls and the short chains that link my cuff-clad ankles and wrists to the wall. "Have you been enjoying your stay so far?"

"Fuck you," I hiss, awaiting the blow across my cheek to come. Instead, he chuckles again. 

"Now, that would just make Dominic jealous. And I'm not one to betray my business partner's trust."

"He's more than that, isn't he?" I whisper, my voice cracking at the end. But it's not from sadness: it's the overwhelming fatigue that's rising up to seize me again. I hear Gabriel crouching down on his haunches and watching me with blatant amusement. "You're his Maker. You must be..." 

A slow clap resonates around the cell, followed by his taunting voice. "Bravo, little girl. You're smarter than people give you credit for."

"People? What people?"

He lets out a long sigh and leans forwards slightly, "Remember our dear friend Liam?" I freeze and feel the iciness of the claustrophobic room much, much more strongly. He senses my reaction and grins that cocky one of his. "Ah, well, you see; before I plucked his head from his body like a fucking grape, I needed him to do me a favour. You were recommended to me of course since the two of you were on such good terms."

"He was cruel," I defend, my voice suddenly crescendoing as I begin to battle the weighty fatigue with rising annoyance, "I ran away to escape him. I didn't do anything to stain his clan's honour."

"True," he clicks his tongue, "But that didn't stop him from serving you up as a name for the sacrifice like a nice, roast pork chop on a silver platter. He squealed like one when I tortured him, FYI."

"Thanks," I mutter, and he dramatically snaps his teeth at me. 

"Anyway, I didn't come here to discuss the past."

"Seems like your favourite pass time." 

His eyes narrow in on me, "If you don't watch that smart mouth of yours, I'll take back the incredible free pass I'm about to give you."

That immediately catches my attention. I strain against the links. "Free pass?" He leans back slightly and stands back up to his full height. He rolls his shoulders back, muscles working underneath his tight, tailored suit. Then, his lips stretch out in a careless smirk to flash two, threatening canines. 

"You, dear hunter, have been spared from the sacrifice." I hear the blood pounding loudly in my ears as relief crashes over me like an uncontrollable tidal wave. But then suspicion is thrown into the mix and I straighten, eyes narrowing in on his happy-go-lucky expression.