23. Chapter 23

Rowan

I sit in the darkness of my cell, the stone hard against my back. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the occasional whimper from nearby prisoners. Suddenly, I feel a warmth in my mind, faint but unmistakable.

Darick.

My heart races, and I close my eyes, focusing on that tiny spark of connection. "Darick," I whisper, not daring to speak louder.

As I concentrate on our bond, I realize something that leaves my head spinning. I've been fighting this connection, pushing him away at every turn. But now, trapped in this hellhole, his presence is the one thing keeping me sane.

I think back to our encounters, the tension between us, the stolen moments of passion. I'd told myself it was just physical attraction, that I couldn't trust him. But sitting here in the dark, I can't lie to myself anymore.

You want him. You've wanted him all along, Rowan.

The truth of it washes over me, and I feel tears burn my eyes. How much time have I wasted fighting this? Fighting him? Fighting us?

Our connection flares briefly, stronger, and I catch a glimpse of his determination, his worry for me. It's overwhelming, the intensity of his emotions.

How could I have been so blind?

"I'm sorry," I murmur, praying he can hear me. "I'm sorry I pushed you away."

As the connection fades again, I'm left with an ache in my chest. I've been lying to myself, pretending I didn't care, that I didn't need him. But now, with everything stripped away, I can finally admit the truth.

I'm falling for Darick Drake, and I've been fighting a losing battle all along. Well, that all changes now.

You have to get out of here!

Determination flares once more. I can't just sit here.

"Hey!" I say softly. "You okay over there? You've been awful quiet."

A moment passes before a weak voice responds, "Good as can be expected, I guess."

"That's better than nothing, right?" I say, inching closer to where I think the voice is coming from. "How long have you been here?" She'd been confused about it before, but it can't hurt to try again.

There's a long pause. "I- I don't know. Days? Weeks? Months? It's all a blur."

I press on, desperate for any information. "Have you seen others come and go? I've been looking for my sister."

"You already asked me that." The voice sounds irritable. "I said I don't know."

"But others? You're not the only one they've taken. Who are the others?"

"I'm not sure. We don't speak anymore. Sometimes…sometimes I hear screams."

Shit.

"Do you know anything about who's keeping us here?"

Heath and his cryptic bullshit about "big pictures" just don't cut it. He's not acting alone, and I can't see a group of vampires working with him purely for the greater good of all witches. There must be others of our kind with him.

"No. They don't talk to us," she replies.

"What do they want?" I try another line.

"Blood," the woman's voice breaks. "They want blood."

I swallow down bile. It's as we suspected. And the thought of my sister being kept as a living blood bank makes me want to throw up.

"There was someone else here before you," she suddenly volunteers, surprising me.

"Where is she?" I ask. I glance around as if this phantom occupant might suddenly appear.

"She fought. A lot." There's a long pause. "It's not good to fight."

"What happened to her," I push, wishing I didn't already know the answer.

"She stopped…fighting," she whispers.

Her words trail off into incoherent mumbling, leaving me with more questions than answers and a growing sense of dread.

Shit. Shit, shit!

I have to get out of here. I really have to get out of here. And I'm taking her with.

I close my eyes, focusing on that faint warmth in my mind. Darick's presence, even just the ghost of it, gives me strength. I picture the train station near the Moonshadow home, willing the image to reach him.

"Come on, Darick," I whisper. "I'm here. Near the Moonshadows. There's a train…"

I concentrate on every detail I can remember. The platform, the scent of oiled metal. The sound of wheels on rails. I push these sensations through our bond, praying they'll reach him.

The connection flickers, maddeningly inconsistent. Sometimes, I feel a surge of warmth as if he's caught a glimpse of what I'm sending. Other times, there's nothing but cold emptiness.

But I don't give up. I keep trying, picturing the station from every angle I can remember. The tracks gleaming in moonlight. The ticket booth with peeling paint. The eerie quiet broken only by the occasional rumble of a passing train.

"Please," I murmur. "Find me, Darick. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I need you."

A wave of comfort washes over me, and for a moment, I swear I can almost feel his presence. It's gone in an instant, but it leaves me with a flicker of hope.

I lean back against the wall again, exhausted but determined. I'll keep trying, keep reaching out. It's all I can do now.

Seconds tick by, dragging into minutes that feel like forever. It's possible that I doze off for a while because my head is lolling when the sound of voices has my eyes snapping open.

I strain my ears, trying to make out the muffled voices in the hallway. My heart nearly stops when I recognize Heath's urgent tone.

"We need to move quickly," he says. "The deadline's tonight."

Another voice responds, too low for me to catch.

Heath's reply freezes me. "I know she's important, but we can't risk exposure. We may have to get rid of her."

"He'll be furious," the other person hisses. "We need her."

"And if the covens learn I'm connected to this? My entire operation will be compromised," Heath snaps. "I've spent too long creating this cover, doing this work. If it comes down to it…I'll do what's necessary."

My mind reels. Heath, my mentor, the man I've known for years – my freaking childhood crush, for God's sake – is talking about killing me. The betrayal cuts deep, leaving me hollow.

"Tonight," Heath emphasizes. "One way or another, this ends tonight."

I strain to hear more, but the voices fade as Heath and his companion move away. My mind races, trying to piece together the fragments of information I've gathered.

Why am I so important? It can't just be about luring Darick. There's something more, something bigger at play.

I think back to the strange symbols etched into the walls, the mix of ancient and modern technology surrounding me. This isn't just some makeshift vampire hideout. It's a facility with a purpose.

And then there's Heath's involvement. He's no ordinary witch – he's part of the Moonshadow family, one of the most powerful and respected covens. For him to risk everything…

Pieces start to click into place. The blood. The prophecies Gran hinted at. My connection to Darick.

"Oh, shit," I whisper. I'm not just bait. I'm a key component in whatever twisted plan they've concocted. My blood, my bond with Darick – it's all part of something bigger. But what? What could be so important that it would drive Heath to betray everything he stands for?

I close my eyes, trying to focus. There has to be more I'm missing. I think back to every conversation, every odd occurrence over the past weeks. The attack on the Starlight Vigil. Lucien's cryptic comments about family history repeating itself.

It's like a puzzle with half the pieces missing, but I can sense the shape of it now. Whatever they're planning, it's going to change everything – for witches, for vampires, maybe for the whole damn world.

And somehow, I'm right in the center of it all.

Unless you die tonight.

The silence is suffocating now. Panic wraps its claws around my throat. I have to get out of here. Now. I close my eyes, desperately reaching for that faint warmth of my connection to Darick.

"Please," I whisper. "I need you. They're going to kill me."

As I focus, I feel a flicker of response. It's weak, but it's there. I cling to it like a lifeline, pouring every ounce of desperation into our bond.

"Darick," I plead silently. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please find me. I can't die here."

The connection pulses, stronger this time. I feel a surge of determination that isn't my own. He's coming. Somehow, I know it with certainty.

Now, I just have to stay alive long enough for him to get here. I look around frantically, trying to figure out if there's something I could use to defend myself if they come back here. I may not have magic, but for the first time, that doesn't bother me – I spent a lifetime figuring out how to live without it. I'm resourceful. And right now, I have grim determination on my side.

I keep scanning the cell, desperation fueling my search. The stone walls are damp and unyielding, offering no obvious escape routes. My fingers trace along the edges, seeking any loose stones or hidden crevices.

"Come on, there's gotta be something," I mutter, peering around to examine the floor.

Moving cautiously to avoid drawing attention in case there's someone watching the cameras, I run my fingers over the floor. My hand brushes against something metallic. I squint in the darkness, making out the shape of a bent nail partially embedded in the ground. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. I work it free, clutching it tightly.

"Hey," I whisper to my cellmate. "Are you still there?"

A faint murmur answers me. I inch closer to the sound, trying to keep my voice low and steady.

"Listen, I'm going to find a way out of here. But I need your help. Can you tell me your name?"

There's a long pause before a trembling voice responds, "Sarah."

"Okay, Sarah. I'm Rowan. We're gonna get out of here together, alright?" I try to inject confidence into my words, even as doubt gnaws at me. "Can you move? Are you hurt?"

"I- I don't know," Sarah mumbles. "Everything hurts. I'm so tired."

I reach out, encountering bars – they must be what separates us. I fumble further, my hand finding her arm in the darkness. She flinches at my touch but doesn't pull away.

"I know you're scared," I say softly. "But we can't give up. There are people out there looking for us. We just need to hold on a little longer."

I pause, listening for any sounds of approaching guards. When I'm sure the coast is clear, I continue, "I found something we might be able to use. A nail. It's not much, but maybe we can pick the lock or…or something."

Sarah's breathing quickens. "They'll hurt us if we try to escape. It's better to just…just stay quiet."

"No," I insist, squeezing her arm gently. She's so damned thin. "That's not an option. They're planning something big, and we can't let them use us for it. We have to try."

"We can't," she whimpers. "They're coming. They're coming!"

As she says it, I hear footsteps once more, and I tense as the sounds outside our cell grow louder. There's a flurry of activity – equipment being moved, voices barking orders. Something's changing, and my gut tells me it's not good.

"Sarah," I whisper urgently. "Can you hear what they're saying?"

She whimpers once more, curling in on herself. "They're coming," she says yet again. "They're going to take us."

I strain my ears, catching snippets of conversation.

"…move her now…"

"…can't risk waiting…"

"…if he gets here…"

My heart races. They're planning to move me, and soon. If that happens, Darick might not be able to find me.

"No, no, no," I groan, gripping the nail tighter. "Come on, Darick. Where are you?"

I reach out through our bond, desperately trying to boost the connection. But the wards in this place are too strong. All I feel is a faint warmth, not nearly enough to communicate.

Sarah's breathing grows ragged. "It's happening again. Just like before. They'll take you, and I'll never see you again."

"That's not going to happen," I insist, even as doubt gnaws at me. "We're getting out of here together, remember?"

But my words sound hollow even to my own ears. The activity outside is growing more frantic. Time's running out.

I grip the nail so tightly it bites into my palm. My heart pounds, and I force myself to take deep breaths. I may not have magic right now, but I'm not going down without a fight.

I hear footsteps approaching, purposeful and steady. This is it. Whatever happens next could determine whether I live or die.

I hold my breath and brace myself.