Page 45 of Captive Hybrid
Chapter Sixteen
Zenna
Warm, golden sunlight streams into the room, illuminating the round room of the Dome. Inside, I take a deep breath. The air is no less stale here, but it’s the closest to freedom and fresh air I’ve been. I half-close my eyes, feeling very much the prisoner getting a glimpse of the outside world, unable to reach it.
But even prisons have libraries.
To my relief, the books stacked neatly on the shelves around the Dome are freely available to anyone. I pick a paperback, settle into a chair and loll my head back, bathing in the sunlight I’ve been starved of.
Though Aidan brought me here, he’s backed off. He’s two tables away, chatting to people I don’t know. He’s realised I need space from everyone. Especially after that nightmare.
Everyone in here looks to be human or witch (or, technically, fae, though there’s none of those in here but me). While I’m not sure if the old human myth that tells of sunlight burning vampires is true, I haven’t seen one come in here. Are they playing along?
That will be my next question for Aidan.
I’ve been lazing in here for hours now, switching between reading a book I plucked from a shelf, sipping the tea Aidan brought me, and dozing in the warm sunlight with my head tilted back.
I realise I’m letting my guard down, and it does feel risky. Stupid. But I need it. After that awful nightmare, my mind and body need to relax, and as though I have no control, under the sunlight, I feel the pleasure of the warmth as though I’m getting a full-body massage, melting with bliss into the armchair.
Mordecai has been attempting to talk to me since this morning, and I’ve given him only the briefest, shortest answers, only to confirm that I’m still alive and safe. For now.
I open my eyes again, returning to the book propped open in my lap. I’m a sucker for romances, so that’s what I’ve picked up. My gaze flicks up to Aidan, then around the room. I feel slightly safer here, clearly (for whatever reason) in a no-bloodsuckers zone, but when I look closely at the people around me, I wish I hadn’t.
They are riddled with bite marks, some wearing chokers, some without. The bite marks are mostly on the side of the neck, wrists or inner thighs (a few younger women are wearing rather revealing clothes which makes their marks easier to see, as though they’re doing this intentionally, showing them off). I lower my gaze, still turning this over in my mind.
What’s just as strange is that everyone who meets my gaze smiles at me. As though we’re not being held captive—or, at least, me—as though we’re all friends, part of the same book club or something. They can see my vines, maybe even my ears, but they seem… friendly.
It’s like another world down here, and no one has tried to hurt me (okay, Callen was creepy, but did me no harm). I definitely feel as though I’m in danger… but they seem okay with me being here.
Finally, I set the book down on the table, rubbing my eyes. A guy comes and plants himself in the seat opposite me. ‘Hey,’ he says brightly. ‘You looked a little lonely. Mind if I join you for a minute? I’m Will.’ He holds out a hand.
I reach out and take it, a vision slipping into my mind. ‘You’re a witch,’ I say, sensing his power. ‘You—’ I lower my voice. ‘You have offensive spells. You could get out of here.’ In my mind, I saw smoke and flames erupt from his hands.
He offers a smile as our hands part. ‘I could, but I don’t want to.’ He’s a little older than me, by the looks of it. Maybe twenty-six, with smooth, tan skin—as though he hasn’t been down here for long, or infrequently—and soft-looking sandy-blond hair. He folds his arms on the table between us. ‘I wanted to see if you needed anything. We all know who you are, and—well, we thought someone should reach out to you.’
I blink. ‘You’re kidding.’
He cocks his head. ‘No. I’m not. Why would I?’
My gaze finds Aidan, who gives a little nod, assuring me Will is okay. I look back at the witch before me, searching him for bite marks. He’s wearing jeans and a white t-shirt which makes his grey eyes stand out. I can’t see any. ‘Are you—do you have a vampire?’ No collar, I note, but he is wearing a thin, leather-strap necklace, completing his surfer-look.
Will smiles. ‘Yes, I do. It’s a little… hmm, impolite to openly gawk at someone’s bites though. Just so you know,’ he adds.
‘Oh. But you don’t have any.’
‘That you can see.’ Will winks.
I can’t avoid the cringe.
‘I’m kidding.’ He sets a hand on the table between us. ‘I’m kidding. Sorry. No, actually, my girlfriend—the vampire—she heals me. So, you know, no scars.’
My brows stitch as I try to wrap my head around that, too. ‘Ew. You drink from her?’
A fishhook raises his brow. ‘Not judgmental at all.’ He taps the table. ‘Look, we’re trying to be friendly. You might want to put some effort in, too, before you alienate everyone. Enjoy your book.’ At that, he slides out of the chair and leaves.
I blow out a breath. That went well. That’s me, always making lasting, meaningful relationships. I’m tempted to send an angry accusation about breaking my fundamental ability to connect with people down the bond to Mordecai, but that seems unhelpful. Instead, I rest my head in my hands as the murmur of chitchat in the room picks up.
Will returns to his table, clearly gesturing to me in an annoyed manner. The rest of his table frown and turn to stare at me. Soon, this spills through the whole room like a tidal wave, and I’m left with thirty-odd glares burrowing into me.
