Page 2 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

I stopped in the entryway, staring out at the large space in front of me.

It was a massive, open area with a cafeteria and tables on one side, and what looked like old, shitty sparring mats that were almost solely duct tape on the other. The space was three stories tall, with rows of cells on every one of those.

All of the cell doors were open, at the moment. There weren't nearly enough bodies there to fill the space, but that was intentional. A prison for immortals that never let anyone leave needed to have enough room to hold a lot of them.

Out in the main area, there were multiple pairs of enormous men in gray jumpsuits, grappling on the mats. The colors of the auras glowing around them were a wide variety of bright and dark, which made the show a little dizzying for me to watch.

More prisoners were sitting at the tables, a few women among the many men. Because of the way their auras radiated off their skin, the only way I could differentiate was through their size difference.

Immortal males' heights and builds were based on their power. Every one I could see was gigantic; at least six feet of pure muscle and magic.

There was a large staircase off to my left, and another one straight across the room, both leading up to the rows of cells.

I didn't dare look at the stairs.

Because every one of the immortals who weren't in the middle of a fight, were looking at me.

Their auras flickered around them like flames, contrasting vibrantly with the dark magic that ran along the walls, holding them captive.

Multiple people were already on their feet.

Instinct told me to run the other direction. Back to the elevator.

But I couldn't leave without the demon royals. They were the whole reason I was there.

I'd looked up pictures of them, and I'd assumed they would have some sort of power position in the penitentiary. They probably wouldn't be that hard to find.

…Assuming everyone else who was looking my way at the moment didn't try to kill me.

Which didn't seem like a safe assumption.

The prison's magic separated violent immortals from nonviolent ones, but that didn't necessarily mean I was safe. Or that I would make it out of this shitty situation without a problem.

Three men jogged toward me.

My gaze flicked over each of them, but I had a hard time seeing facial features when people weren't right in front of me. The auras I could see constantly were just too bright. They hid everything else unless I really focused.

One of the auras was electric blue, a fairly normal variety.

One was a deep, murky green that made me nervous.

The other was... colorful.

Colorful people were rare. Interesting. Powerful, and complex.

This man in particular was made up of shades of red and gold and purple that shifted around him, twisting and tangling with the shadowy magic that clung to his body, marking him as a demon.

Demons of all kinds were born with shadow magic, and it mostly lingered around their body, like an aura that they could control.

I gripped the straps of my backpack. A long time ago, I would've tried to tap into my magic to protect myself. Now, I barely had any.

When the men approached me, I could see them better. My gaze flicked between the three of them. They were all gigantic, made purely of muscle and power, and wearing the gray prison jumpsuits as pants with the sleeve part tied around their waists.

All three guys were bare chested, revealing a lot more abs than I had seen in a long time.

Blue aura had pale skin and white-blond hair that stuck up wildly. He was covered in magical tattoos from toes to hairline, including his face.

I vaguely recognized him as a psychopathic hybrid of some kind who had been all over the news a few decades earlier. I had no idea why the fae hadn't killed him, but I figured there was probably a reason.