“The girl from the mess hall—the one who screamed. Where would they be keeping her?”
The girl keeps shaking her head.
“Look,” I hiss, my patience running out. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you, but I will if you don’t tell me the truth. Where is she? Speak. Now.” I lower my hand to her chin.
“I—I really don’t know,” she stammers. Tears spill down her cheeks onto my hand. I drop my arm to my side.
“Say anything to the guards about this conversation and you’ll regret it.”
She stumbles out of the bathroom, whimpering quietly. I’ve hit a new low.
I go into a stall and change into the nightgown—the last thing I need is to arouse more suspicion. When I come out, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My bruises have faded to a pale purple, but dark rings lie under my eyes and my skin is the sallow kind of pale you see only on the sickly and those from Minnesota. I almost don’t recognize myself.
When I walk back out to my bunk, I sweep my eyes over the room as inconspicuously as possible, looking for another exit besides the guarded double doors at the front. But there’s nothing but rock, rock, and more rock. Obviously, these sorcerers don’t care about fire code violations.
As soon as I crawl back into bed, the lights flick out. A few people have whispered conversations in the dark, but it’s not long before the room goes silent, the only sound that of slow breathing.
I can’t believe I’m spending the night in Los Demonios. The witch said the length of my visit would vary each time, but I must have been here for more than twelve hours already. Aunt Penny will have noticed my absence by now—and Bishop too. I cringe thinking about their reactions when they discover I’ve gone MIA again. Aunt Penny might try to send me away to that witch boarding school after all. I won’t get another chance to come back here. I have to make this one worth it.
My eyes adjust to the dark, and the shapes in the room come into focus. The guards are silhouetted against the pale strips of light around the door. Surely they don’t stand there all night. And when they leave, I’ll make my escape. Finding Paige and getting out of a fortified mountain compound shouldn’t be too difficult.
I groan inwardly. Sure, I passed long expanses of empty hallways when those guards dragged me in here earlier, but all it would take is coming across one sorcerer who sees us trying to escape and everything would be ruined. I need a weapon.
I rack my brain for something I can use against a guard, but the only thing remotely weapon-shaped I own is my sorcerer-issue Oral-B.
I get an idea.
I grip my toothbrush in one hand, then roll over in the bed and let my arm dangle over the side. Like I thought, the ground under my bed is made of rock. Huzzah. I press the handle end of my toothbrush firmly into the rock, then begin quietly grinding it back and forth. After a minute of this, I check my progress and am pleased to find that only a few more centuries of grinding should result in a fine shiv for combat. But I keep working at it anyway. It doesn’t take long before my arms feel like they’re made of gelatin and my eyelids are heavy with sleep.
I’m starting to doze off when the doors click quietly open. My breath hitches. A third guard enters, and the three of them talk in the doorway in low tones that I can’t make out. I’m already planning my escape when the original two guards exit, leaving the new guard in their place. It must be change of shift.
I sag with disappointment, and I have to tell myself that this is still an improvement—one guard is better than two.
He starts padding down the center aisle, scanning the beds, for what I don’t know. Ace pops into my head. What if he’s returned to get another shot at me? I stiffen with fear, but I tell myself it can’t be him. He was dead. Or very near it. This guy walks with a breezy swagger that would be near impossible after the beating Ace received.
Still. My heart races hard as footsteps approach. I’m not going to get a better chance than this—I need to get rid of this guy, whether it’s Ace or not. If I can take him down, then maybe I can escape before anyone notices that something has gone wrong. And before anyone wakes up and screams loud enough to draw attention.
There are serious holes in the plan, but I don’t see a better one emerging, so I choose to ignore them.
I grip my half-sharpened toothbrush and slowly slip out of the bedcovers, trying to make as little noise as possible.
The walkie-talkie clipped to the guard’s pants hisses white noise as he nears. Each one of his footsteps sends a fresh bolt of fear through me, and when he’s right next to my bed, my heart thumps so hard it’s a miracle he doesn’t turn and beam a flashlight in my eyes. But he doesn’t stop. He passes right by me in the dark.
It’s now or never. I leap out of bed and in one fluid motion land on his back as I jab the toothbrush into his neck. The guard grunts, but he doesn’t go down like I expected him to. My arms cling to his neck, and I strain with all my muscle power to cut off circulation as I hit him hard and deep with the toothbrush. He stumbles left, then right. A few people shift in bed. Someone coughs.
“Stop, it’s me,” the man gasps.
I keep strangling. The singular goal in my mind is to get this guy down, one way or another.
“Stop. It’s Cruz.”
Finally, his words sink into my kill-happy mind. I let go of his neck and slide down to the floor, my bare feet landing on the cold tiles. My heart goes rapid fire in my chest as Cruz feels his neck for damage.
“Damn, girl,” he whispers.
“I didn’t know it was you,” I hiss back.
He grabs my wrist and leads me quickly to the bathroom. He lets go of my hand when we’re inside and paces away from me. I shift from foot to foot.