“We have plans. You’ll find out—in time.”
“Whatever. Open the door, please.”
Darian gestured to one of the guards, and he grabbed the large handle and slid the steel door back.
The room inside was a wide open space, with a clear-walled cube in the center, anchored between ceiling and floor. A single door was the only way in or out, and multiple steel bars held it sealed, bolts driven into the transparent material, each as thick as Cally’s fingers. Nico waited inside, wearing pants and a shirt made of hemp or something similar. Featureless, drab, and designed to dehumanize.
Every crime of prejudice begins by dehumanizing the victim.
But wasn’t it justified in Nico’s case? Did she really feel sorry for him?
He turned as the door opened, his red eyes finding hers, crouching as he watched her like a panther about to pounce. His fist thumped into the wall of his cell. A dull thunk reverberated through the space.
Only then did she realize she’d seen him before: in the Curia’s house, after she’d been with Belle.
Shit. He saw me with Antoine. Will he tell them?
Cally stopped in the doorway, mind racing.
I shouldn’t have come.
The vampire watched her, his eyes narrowed and a hint of his fangs showing.
It’s too late.
“What’s the material?” she asked, to cover her hesitation. “Will it hold?”
“It’s a polycarbonate, thick enough to stop bullets.” Darian’s tone was laced with his amusement at what he probably assumed was her timidity. “Don’t worry, it’ll hold.”
“Then I want to talk to him alone.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Because I need to know if he’s recognized me. If he knows who I am.“I’ve told you already,” she said, like it was the only thing that mattered. “He killed my mother.”
Darian regarded her like he didn’t believe her, then relented. “Very well. Five minutes.”
“Is there some kind of kill switch? In case something goes wrong?”Maybe I can hit it before he—
“Nothing is going to go wrong. The cell is all that’s needed.”
Damn.
He let her walk in, then the door slid closed behind her, the lock engaging with an echoing clang.
Nico watched every step she took with his fangs bared. She stopped a few feet short of the walls of his cage. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear everything,” Nico sneered. “What do you want?”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Nothing but prey.” He pressed his hands to the glass. “Dead, when I get out of here.” One fist struck again, more out of frustration than a serious attempt to breach the wall.
His answer was generic enough. She tried not to show her relief; maybe he didn’t know who she was.
“I have questions for you.”
“I have no intention of answering.”
