*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.
"Why?"
"You in such a hurry to kill yourself?" he remarks, and I grit my teeth. He sighs deeply, "You're really not any fun Ju-Ju. Fine," he snaps as my lips tighten. "It seems that Jay has found a more cooperative volunteer to take your place." He nods and turns his back to me, opening up the iron barred-cell door effortlessly as if it weighs nothing more than a meek pebble. "Someone will come collect you and return you to your owners."
Owners.
Like a fucking piece of property.
I let the hunter degradation from the vampire pass, simply because I'm chained and can't do anything about it, and slump against the wall. The resolve leaves me and I blow out a shaky breath as the door slams shut. Darkness presses against my vision, familiar and utterly desolate. Even though I'm relieved to have had my life spared, I can't help but feel early remorse towards the loss that Emma will surely face. Because Dominic knows, I'm sure. Dominic knows that Jay has gotten someone else - someone human - to sacrifice himself instead of me. And even though I'm positive that Emma knows that I won't be sacrificed, I'm also sure that she doesn't know who the replacement is. And who is the only other human prisoner in this damned hell hole?
...°...
*Emma's POV*
I stare at the upholstered bed in front of me, feeling nothing but hatred towards this furnished room. This cell. I'm back where all this started, in the underground base. Gabriel's layer. And since it's buried deep underneath the earth, I've got no idea how the moon has progressed. I have no way to prepare myself for when the time comes. All I can do is wait and hope that it comes quickly. Standing here in the middle of this room for hours and hours with nowhere to drown out my despair seems more than enough torture already. Knowing Gabriel, he'll find pleasure in carrying this out for longer than necessary if he can.
Dominic, Jay and I arrived at the base of the warehouse since what seems like an hour ago, and both were immediately ushered in the opposite direction. I, on the other hand, was gracefully escorted to this suffocating place. Note the sarcasm. I may have left a couple of bruises on my cheerful guards. Before I can properly analyse what's taken hold of me I let out a deranged scream and throw the nearest thing against the wall. The elegant, wooden chair crashes against it in a million splinters.
Déja vu?
I think this same thing happened when Jay was acting all robot-like and I threw something at him - was it a vase? I groan and rub at my forehead, already feeling the upcoming of a familiar headache. My mind reading hasn't been overly active lately and it's been itching to get out. That will surely happen tonight. But in a much larger scale than I could ever foresee. Even just thinking about it has me wanting to curl up in a ball and cry. But I can't do that now. Not anymore. Now I just have to surrender to the acceptance and take charge of my destiny with my head held high. Anything else would be a disgrace to all those who believe in me.
But no one should have to believe in you. You shouldn't have this burden.
I feel the first tear slide down my cheek as Hunter's voice echoes in my mind. I fantasise that deep, reassuring tone of his, rendering it the only comforting thing that can bring me out of this numbness. Because I can feel it seeping into my bones, forcing me down onto the bed so that I don't crash to the floor. I say goodbye to his beautiful words one last time and surrender to the darkness as a headache carries me away and the numbness paralyses my senses.
...°...
"Get up," a detached voice orders. My lids peel open and I groan at the pounding in my head, the uncomfortable aftermath of that cursed headache. My mind reading is manifesting itself again, getting more and more agitated and begging to be let out. "I'll drag you out of bed if I have to," it warns again. I sit up groggily and rub at my temples. When I turn my head, my arm is immediately yanked into a strong hold and I'm practically pulled from the bed and thrown onto the immaculate, wooden floor boards. I lift my eyes to one of the guard's empty face and snarl. Without another word he throws a pile of light clothing into my lap and turns back towards the door. "Change." With his back to me, I clutch the clothes into my chest and rise to my feet.
"Privace, please," I grit out, the anger in me taking every last bit of resolve to keep grounded. His back stiffens as annoyance courses through him.
"This is as far as I've been ordered to go."
"Fine," I bite out. I strip from my jeans and shirt and Converse in a second, and quickly replace my body with the garments. The white robing falls to the ground, covering my feet. It's an impossibly soft, silky material that hugs at my waist before flowing down my legs. It wraps around my arms and spills like a waterfall at the wrists, meddling with the fabric around my legs. The collar is lower than I'd like. But then again, Gabriel's always had a nack for dressing up his prisoners like dolls. I hastily brush some of my blonde hair over my shoulder and slightly over my collarbone so that it covers a bit more skin. It doesn't change a thing. I narrow my eyes at the guard's back, and, possibly sensing my stare, he turns back around. With no regard to the robing whatsoever, his empty eyes remain on my face, but he's not even looking at me. He grips my arm and begins to pull me towards the door. Ignoring the painful sting of his nails digging into my skin, I set my lips into a fine line and take one last look at the God-awful, perfectly decorated room. Will I even remember anything from this life after the ritual's been complete. My fingers brush over Hunter's Mark on my collarbone, and a teeny, tiny bit of pure emotion slips through the cracks of my armour. I shove it back, focusing on the sounds of the soles of our feet marching over the cold, cement floor. The guard's are heavy, more certain, while mine are hesitant and slightly clumsy. I keep replaying a single objective over and over in my mind. After the ritual, I need to concentrate on Gabriel. And on the image of ripping his head clear from his body.