Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Get off me!” I scream.
Slowly, he backs away, his eyes eating me up as the elevator slows to a stop. As soon as he opens the grate, I tear past him, dashing through the hallways. Pausing for only a fraction of a second to grab a knife from one of the tables in the weapons and armor room. I start running again and conceal it in my waistband as best I can as I find the way to the staircase. When I make it to my floor, I hurtle toward my room, then skid to a stop when I see him leaning against my door, the picture of nonchalance.
Heart pounding, body aching from the exertion, I put one hand against the wall and drag in ragged breaths. If he takes the knife from me, I might cry.
His eyes narrow on me, his gaze scanning up and down my body in an unnerving way. There’s no way he can see the knife. It’s small and concealed, tucked between my underwear and my hip. When he snaps his focus to my face again, I could swear there’s the hint of a smirk on his lips.
“Whitbine will be here tomorrow. Prepare yourself.” With that, he strides past me.
Hatred, pure and raw, bubbles in my heart. I can’t do anything about it. I shove it down, swallowing it like a child taking its medicine, and return to my room.
Collapsing on my bed, I let myself feel the aches, the small pains that run through me. But I also let myself remember. The smell of the grass, the wind, the feel of stone and dirt and sunlight. There’s a way out. I can get back to that elevator, back to the surface.
A slow smile creeps across my lips, and I hide it away, burying my face in my pillows as I mentally retrace my steps all the way to the edge of the garden. To freedom.
10
Recovered Journal of Dr. Georgia Clark
June 1, Year 1, Emergence Era
Hope. It’s the one thread I’ve held onto for the past few months. Hope for a cure. Hope that once Juno is in office, things will get better. That we’ll find a way to stop the plague. But every time I think we’re making progress, I realize we aren’t. It isn’t even two steps forward, three back. It’s just three back. The science isn’t getting any clearer, and DC is becoming more dangerous. I don’t know how long we can hold out, or how long I can hold onto hope.
The door to the elevator corridor is locked. Of course, I assumed Valen wouldn’t leave my only known exit from this buried castle open for me. I simply hoped it might happen. No chance. I forced myself to wait two whole days before trying it—as if Valen would somehow be off his guard since I didn’t jump at the opportunity right away. Silly of me.
I lean against the door and chew the inside of my cheek for a little while before turning back to it. There’s no handle, nothing to indicate a door is even here. Running my hands along the wall, I can barely feel the lines to indicate the opening. The tile inlay is cleverly done to disguise it, the dragon eyes watching me as I attempt to discover its secrets. Then I scour the entire surface with my fingertips until I find what must be the keyhole.
Kneeling, I peer at it, then try to look through it. Only darkness. Damn. Glancing around again to make sure I’m alone, I pull out my stolen knife and jam it into the hole as far as I can, then wiggle it around. Nothing happens. I’m not a cat burglar. It’s not like I have any history of picking locks.
Shit. I sit back on my heels and inspect the door again. The dragon looks back at me, seemingly above it all. I give it the finger. Immature, but also somewhat satisfying.
I need something other than the knife. It’s too big to catch on anything inside the locking mechanism—at least that’s how I think the lock works. Tumblers and all that. What I need is a bobby pin like in movies. Something I can bend to fit whatever shape the tumbler requires to turn. But where the hell can I find one of those?
I climb to the Piano Level and plop onto the deep emerald couch. It gives me a decent view of this floor as well as the stairs going both up and down, so I tend to perch here when I’m in-between searches. The upside-down castle is its own enigma. Why so many rooms when Valen and Melody seem to be the only vampires in residence? How has no one noticed it’s here?
Leaning back, I look up at the black ceiling far overhead. I know that beyond it, the sun is just now rising. I wish I could feel it.