I refused to meet his gaze because a part of me was angry. Imagine if the Guard hadn’t determined that I’d been framed and offered me a chance to go undercover. My entire life could’ve been destroyed, and it would have been his fault. True fury burned within me. The monster who lay dormant inside me struggled to be let free, to lash out and attack.

  But no, that was a terrible idea. I was weak, and attacking anyone wouldn’t end in my favour. That was the problem with anger. It was the emotion I endeavoured to listen to the least because it always wanted me to make stupid, impulsive decisions.

  When I was done eating, I picked up my tray and stood. I walked in the direction of the exit, but I couldn’t manage to keep my eyes to myself. I glanced at Vasilios instinctively, and a shocking whoosh of air expanded in my lungs. I’d forgotten how bright and blue his eyes were, and right then, they were levelled directly on me. Sven was busy eating, but Vasilios sat still as stone, his gaze inscrutable and unwavering as it fixed on me. His dark blond hair had been shaved tight, the floppy, wavy locks he sported the last time I saw him gone completely. I almost stopped moving, but I forced my feet to keep walking. I made sure he saw the hatred in my gaze before dragging my eyes away and leaving the dining hall.

  Outside, I had to lean against the wall for a second to gain some composure. I hadn’t anticipated seeing him would affect me so strongly, but it had. I wanted to burn the entire prison to the ground just to watch him burn. It took a while for me to calm down. I was so lost in the anger that I hadn’t even noticed I’d left the dining area entirely and was almost back to my cell. I was still a little bit amped up because when someone put their hand on my shoulder, I swung around, grabbing them by the throat and slamming them against the railing.

  The short, brown-haired man made a choking sound as he struggled in my grasp. I realised he was merely a warlock as I took him in. I released my hold and stepped back.

  “Fucking hell, you nearly killed me!” he exclaimed, pawing at his throat as he gulped in air.

  “You shouldn’t have touched me like that,” I replied. I mean, come on. We were in prison. Who went around grabbing people by the shoulder and not expecting to be attacked in response?

  “Well, I’ve been calling out to you for a good five minutes, and you didn’t hear me, so it was a last resort,” he complained, and then I felt bad. Clearly, I’d been so lost in my anger at Vasilios that I hadn’t even heard him calling for me.

  “Okay, well, sorry about that. What do you want?”

  “I’m Baker. I head up the boat repair crew, and I’ve been informed that you’ll be working with us starting today,” he said, and it all made sense. I was supposed to be given a job, and apparently, I’d report to him.

  “Boat repair crew?” I asked, curious.

  “There are boats that bring the prison guards to and from the island for their shifts. We’re responsible for the ones that fall into disrepair.”

  “So, you fix them up?”

  “And clean them out. Basically, we get them back into working order. I was a marine mechanic once upon a time, so they stuck me with this. Come on. Your first shift starts in a few minutes.”

  He didn’t make a single comment on my beaten and bloodied appearance as he motioned for me to follow him. I briefly considered it might be a trap, but it seemed unlikely, so I limped my way behind him. If only those vampires hadn’t drained so much of my blood, my leg would’ve already been healed.

  We reached the same steel door the guards had unceremoniously shoved me through yesterday. Several other inmates waited by the door, and to my dismay, they included Vasilios and Sven. I knew that was coming. Sergeant Davis had told me as much, but still, the prospect of working alongside those two didn’t exactly fill me with warm fuzzies. Neither of them looked at me when Baker and I joined the group, which also consisted of two elves and a witch. Baker went to converse with the witch while the two elves huddled close, chatting in hushed tones.

  The elves eyed me as I stood alone, my body aching, scalp smarting. I’d never felt so shitty in my life, and all the while, I was aware of Vasilios standing just a few feet away, his presence heavy like dark clouds hovering in the sky above me.

  It was obvious that he hated me. He didn’t have to look at me. I could sense it. Sergeant Davis had been dead wrong about him framing me as some twisted romantic gesture. As a way of bringing us together. What a joke. The framing had been purely malicious. He’d done it to make me suffer for betraying him, and now I bet he was silently revelling in his success. The very thought made me want to break something.

  My mind went to that night at Nic’s house. Vasilios used his vast magic to trap me in the house. Then he revealed his true identity and told me how he’d used a glamour to make me believe he was my friend Nic for months. My parents, Peter, and the Guard had been outside, trying to find a way past his magic, a way to get inside and rescue me.

  And that was when I’d used Vasilios’s supposed feelings for me against him. I’d kissed him, distracting him long enough to break down the magic blocking the house. It hadn’t taken long, and before he’d realised I’d tricked him, the Guard had burst in and arrested him.

  So, yeah, it was understandable that he hated me, but it didn’t negate the fact that he deserved to be there. He’d intended to murder my parents, alongside others he’d determined had a hand in his father’s death. He’d also had Mr. Williams killed, and now, Belinda.

  I folded my arms and levelled my attention on the steel door. Clearly, we were waiting for guards to arrive and escort us to wherever the boat repairs were done. Oddly, my mind wandered as I stood there, and the crackly sound of leaves fluttering in the breeze whispered at the back of my mind. There was a flash of an image, ruby red branches, followed by a dreamy, seductive feeling. I wanted to know where those leaves were. Where was the tree? How could I find it?

  I shook myself from the strange, invasive thoughts just as the steel doors creaked open. Two guards stood behind them, a stern-looking man and a tall woman with a no-nonsense expression.

  “Right, you lot,” the woman said, “out you come. Single file, please.”

  We shuffled out. I stood behind the two elves while the male guard took up the rear. The entire time Vasilios didn’t acknowledge me in any way. I found myself studying his shoulders and the back of his head, wondering at his lack of reaction to my being there. Surely, he should be gloating, rubbing it in my face that he managed to have me convicted and he didn’t even have to step foot outside the prison to do it.

  We walked down the dark, musty corridor through several doorways that the guards had to unlock before arriving at a set of stone steps. They appeared to go down into some kind of basement. My legs ached going down the steps, and the guard behind me huffed with impatience.

  “Move faster, new girl,” he grumped, and I did my best to bite my tongue. I wanted to snap back at him, but I resisted the urge. Besides, he had no clue I was undercover. To him, I was just another prisoner.

  When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the narrow space opened into a sort of underground harbour. The water was dark and murky. Several boats that looked like they’d seen better days were lined up along the dock. Again, it smelled damp but with an earthy, mossy undertone.

  One boat was out of the water and sat on wooden stilts. The two elves and the witch climbed aboard and got straight to work. The metal was rusted, the paint peeling off. Baker approached and handed me some gloves, alongside a scraper and a cloth.

  “You can help those two remove the rusty paintwork,” he said, gesturing to Vasilios and Sven. Both stood at the far end of the boat, quietly working on the exterior, their backs to us. By the tense set of Vasilios’s shoulders, I got the sense that he was listening to what Baker said.

  Bristling, I took the proffered items and approached the boat.

  I made sure to stand a few yards away from Vasilios and Sven, working on a separate section. They were both still going out of their way to ignore me, and I had too much pride to try and make conversation. I knew the whole point of my being there was to get close to Vasilios, but I’d only just arrived, and I wasn’t ready to start chit-chatting with him yet. Besides, I was annoyed by the silent treatment. That night when he’d revealed his true identity to me, it seemed like he could talk forever. Now, it was the opposite—utter silence.

  My entire body ached, my injuries still unhealed. I needed blood to get back to fighting form. The problem was that there was no one there I could feed from. I’d hoped feeding from Peter before I’d left would see me through. Unfortunately, I hadn’t anticipated being attacked by a gang of bloodthirsty vampires the moment I set foot inside the prison.

  The guards stood by the wall to supervise us, and I screwed up my face as I scraped away sections of rusted paint covered in barnacles. Well, at least I’d been given a set of gloves to work with. Vasilios and Sven were talking quietly to one another, and I strained my ears to listen.

  “Wonder what she did,” Sven pondered.

  “I don’t care. It’s not our business,” Vasilios muttered dispassionately in response, and I frowned.

  If he set me up, then he obviously knew why I was there. Maybe it was part of the act, feigning ignorance, so I wouldn’t suspect he was behind the whole thing. Gritting my teeth, I continued working, every part of me protesting at the strain it put on my body. I scraped the rusty parts and wiped them away with the cloth. I wasn’t entirely sure I was doing it right, but it seemed to be getting the paint off, so I kept ploughing ahead.

  We’d been going at it for about two hours when one of the guards announced, “Okay, take a five-minute break.”

  In relief, I went to sit on the ground next to an old anchor that was just as rusty as the boat we’d been working on. I rubbed at my leg where it hurt. Standing for an extended period of time could be tiring, even if you weren’t injured. I massaged the aching tissue and sensed someone’s attention.

  Glancing up, I found Vasilios standing with the other prisoners as they took turns filling paper cups with water from a small drinking fountain. He was staring at me, his eyebrows drawn together, his expression furious. The fierceness in his bright blue eyes startled me, and I suddenly felt immensely irritated. His plan had worked, hadn’t it? As far as he knew, I was imprisoned for a crime I didn’t commit, so why was he still so angry? He looked like he wanted to murder me, and I felt like telling him if he kept frowning like that, the wind might change, and his stupid, handsome face would get stuck that way.

  Yes, I could admit he was handsome, despite the scarring and the horns. Well, the horns weren’t precisely ugly, but they were certainly menacing.

  I dropped my gaze and continued rubbing my shin until the guard told us our break was over and we could resume working. I stood and returned to the boat. I’d made a fair amount of headway, which meant I was standing substantially closer to Vasilios. There were only a handful of feet between us, and it was impossible not to be aware of his presence. He beamed his hatred at me with the heat of a thousand suns.

  I regretted not taking the opportunity to get some water because I was suddenly parched. My arm ached from scrubbing and scraping away the rust, and the places where I’d been bitten felt raw and bruised. I paused and glanced over at the guards. Neither of them was paying me any attention, so I took the opportunity to go to the water fountain and get a drink. I was almost there when the male guard cleared his throat.

  “Where do you think you’re going, inmate?”

  I coughed, then replied, “I just need some water.”

  “You should’ve thought of that during your break. Get back to work.”

  “But—”

  “I said get back to work,” he ordered, his voice brooking no argument.

  The fact that I couldn’t quench my thirst seemed to make me even thirstier, my dry throat almost torturous. I limped back to the boat, lifting my head as I approached and noting Vasilios’s attention was pinned on the guard who’d reprimanded me. If I thought he’d been shooting me murderous looks, it had nothing on how he stared down that guard, who, by the way, was completely oblivious.

  I returned to scraping, unsure how much time had passed when I sensed movement. I paused, glancing to my right, but no one was there. Vasilios and Sven were silently working. Then something on the ground caught my eye. A small paper cup of water had been placed by my feet. I peered at it in confusion, having no idea who’d put it there. I should’ve perhaps thought about it a moment before drinking, especially since drinking poisoned water started this whole thing. But my thirst was so great that I didn’t hesitate to pick it up and down the lot. Thankfully, it didn’t taste like it’d been tampered with. In fact, it was the best water I’d ever tasted.

  Obviously, one of the other inmates had snuck it over to me while the guards weren’t looking. Baker, perhaps. He seemed like a decent guy. Well, as decent as anyone could be in a place like that. Then another thought hit me … Had it been Vasilios? I glanced in his direction, but his back was turned to me, muscles moving and flexing under his jumpsuit as he scraped at the paint. No, there was no way he’d gotten me water. I was pretty sure he’d stand by and watch me die of thirst if the situation allowed. But then, why had he been staring daggers at the guard after he’d denied me access to the water fountain? Surely it was unrelated, and he hated that guard for another reason entirely. Yes, that had to be it.

  I returned my focus to my work, hoping there weren’t too many more hours left in the shift.

  8.

  A few hours later, our shift was over, and the guards escorted us back upstairs. I was tired and hungry as I limped to the dining hall again, where they were serving sloppy mashed potatoes with a brown stew. I took the food without complaint, absolutely starved after working all day. I also grabbed a glass of water, downing it all in record time before refilling it and taking the same seat I’d taken earlier.

  Again, no one sat next to me. My attention wandered across the hall to where Vasilios and Sven sat. They appeared to be deep in conversation, and I wished I was sitting closer to hear what they were saying. I looked away before either of them noticed me watching and got suspicious. Instead, I let my eyes wander over the other prisoners, taking in the dynamics.

  I spotted Serg sitting with a group of other shapeshifters. They claimed the largest table right in the centre of the dining hall. Other prisoners seemed to give them a wide berth, and I remembered what my cell neighbour, Lara, had said about the shapeshifters ruling during the day while the vampires were in charge at night.

  Glancing out the window, I was relieved there were still a few hours of daylight left. Once night fell, I would make sure I was safely tucked away in my cell so that I didn’t cross paths with Mack again.

  When I was done eating, I stood and returned my tray before heading for the exit. I hesitated, forgetting whether I was supposed to go left or right to reach my cell.

  “Get out of the way,” a gruff voice complained, and I glanced behind me to find a bunch of shapeshifters. Then I saw Serg standing among them, and he raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “You okay, princess?” he asked, and I quickly nodded. Now that I knew he was one of the most powerful prisoners, my demeanour around him changed. I wasn’t sure if his calling me “princess” was a term of endearment or something more predatory. Lara had said he could be scarier than Mack, so I thought it wise to be respectful. I kept my eyes downcast.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I replied, glancing at him a moment before looking at the floor again.

  “You don’t look fine,” he said, stepping closer as he inspected me up and down. “You look like you’ve been through the wars, though, I must say, you gave those vamps a good showdown last night. I was impressed.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They still got me in the end.”

  Serg frowned, then turned and nodded to his crew, some silent signal for them to leave us alone. They went, and I suddenly felt less safe. Why did Serg want to be alone with me?

  “They drained you bad. You’re gonna need to feed soon. I can help with that.”

  “Are you even supposed to be talking to me?”

  “I can talk to whoever I want,” he answered, eyes hard, almost as if I’d insulted him.

  “Sorry, I just … I was told we’re only allowed to interact with our own kind in here, so I thought—”

  “That rule doesn’t apply to me,” he said, cutting me off.

  “Oh,” I breathed.

  “Listen, Darya, I like you. You’ve got a spark most people don’t have in here. I can protect you from Mack, but it comes at a cost.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll have to belong to me.”

  The statement hung in the air as I stared at him. The insinuation was clear. It would be a sexual arrangement, and though he wasn’t an unattractive man, my stomach turned. The very thought of being with anyone other than Peter was unthinkable, especially as some kind of exchange. I’d be entering his protection, and for that, I’d have to pay the price, one I didn’t want to think about.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I have a boyfriend on the outside,” I told him honestly.

  “The outside doesn’t exist anymore, princess. This is your world now, and if you don’t have someone to feed from, you’re gonna get weaker and weaker. If you were mine, you’d have all the blood you need.”

  “That’s very generous of you, but I can’t accept.”

  Serg’s eyes hardened. “I won’t make this offer again.”

  “I understand,” I said, dipping my head.

  “No, I don’t think you do. This isn’t a holiday camp. This is prison. And if you want to survive, you’re going to have to—”

  “What do you think you’re doing talking to her?” asked a familiar, accented voice, and I shivered. Vasilios. I turned my head to see him and Sven approaching us. Serg’s shoulders tensed, and for all his talk of being able to speak with whoever he wanted, he seemed wary.