A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)

“You’ve seen them, too?” I felt my jaw drop.

“Only in books.” He shrugged and moved to the side of his bed. His pupils were also dilated, but he seemed much calmer, more composed than Merin. A better sight than the Imen in the other cages, too. “I heard them last night, but… I couldn’t see them. Only white lights leaving the cages…”

“Oh… you witnessed the whole soul-eating part, then,” I said, then flipped back into my state of urgency. It was only a matter of time before a Correction Officer passed by Demios’s cell. I listened carefully to the footsteps, which were currently on the other side of the block. “Demios, I’m here to help you.”

“Help me how?”

He’s as blank as the other one…

“I’m going to get you out of here and take you to your sister,” I replied, and took my little jar of invisibility paste out of my backpack, holding it out for him to see. “Eat half of this, and we’ll be out of here in minutes.”

“Wait… Wait… Hold on.” Demios frowned, then shook his head. “I’m in prison. I committed a crime. I belong here.”

“Are you sure about that?” I raised an eyebrow, somehow sensing exactly how deleted his brain was. Once more, Heron’s accounts of extreme mind-bending came to mind, and Demios looked and sounded like an excellent example. His movements were slow, his responses even slower—not to mention the blank look on his face, the mild slur in his speech, and his dilated pupils, all signs of Mara intervention. He nodded, his lips parting as if his jaw couldn’t keep up with the rest of his head. “Okay, why are you in prison, then?”

“I… I committed a crime…”

“What crime?”

“I… I… I think I…”

I could almost hear his train of thought derailing and crashing into a dark abyss. He had no idea why he’d been jailed in the first place. His brow furrowed as he scratched the back of his head, struggling to remember.

“That’s what I thought,” I muttered. “You’ve been mind-bent, Demios. You don’t belong here. Your sister sent me. She knows you’re innocent.”

“You know my sister?”

“Yes, and I promised her I would help. Do you want to see Arrah again?” I asked. He nodded in response, so I gave him the jar. He took it with trembling fingers and stared at the shimmering paste inside for a moment, before he gave me a questioning look. “Eat half of that. It will make you invisible, like I was just now. I’ll need the other half. Once we vanish, we’ll be able to move freely and quietly get out of this place. They won’t even know what happened to you.”

The Correction Officer’s steps seemed closer than before. I needed Demios to move fast, so I removed the lid from the jar and took his hand, helping him scoop out some of the paste. He finished the rest of the movement and swallowed the glimmering cream, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. He cringed a little.

“Yeah, not exactly honey and plums, I know.” I scoffed and consumed the rest of the jar before I put it back in my bag. No way was I leaving any evidence behind. I took Demios’s hand and helped him up, then hooked his finger into one of my pockets. “Okay, we’re about to vanish now. Whatever happens, do not let go of me, okay?”

Demios gazed at me with fascination. We were shimmering away, and disappeared before I heard the Correction Officer move forward on the other side. We still had about thirty seconds to get out without bumping into the Mara.

“Remember, Demios,” I whispered. “Don’t let go!”

“I won’t let go,” he breathed.

At least he was paying attention.

I fluffed up the raggedy pillows and sheets on Demios’s bed, enough to make it look like he was still in bed—at least from a distant, casual angle. We then left the cell, and I carefully pulled the door shut behind me and put the lock back in place.

It would require an extra ounce of attention from a Correction Officer to notice something wrong in Demios’s cell. If the universe worked in our favor, they wouldn’t notice he was gone until morning, at least.

I took a deep breath, and we quietly slipped down the stairs, all the way to the bottom level. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I took comfort in the fact that Demios was still clinging to my pocket—he was obeying me, which was important if we wanted to get out of here in one piece and without triggering any alarms, or, worse, some massive Iman-hunt…

We reached the gate through which Caia and Blaze had come through. I picked the lock, then gently opened it, and went through, frequently looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking our way. Fortunately, the Correction Officers were scattered above, their backs to us.

I closed the gate behind us, and then went up the stairs. About two minutes in, I could hear Demios breathing heavily. It was a long way up, and he didn’t have the physical strength to keep up with my usual speed.

“I’m guessing we’ll have to take a couple of breaks along the way.” I sighed. “It’s a long way up, my friend.”

“It’s… It’s okay… I can do it… But yeah… Breaks… I need… I need a break…”

Demios was already out of breath. I stretched my neck around, bracing myself for a slightly longer trip back to the top. It was either that or carry him on my back, and I didn’t want it to get to that just yet.

I’d had a long freaking day already, and I was exhausted. That bed at the Broken Bow Inn was already on my mind. And so was Zane and my experience as his prisoner. Weirdest six or seven hours in my life.

“Ready to go?” I asked, eager to drop him off at the South Bend Inn, where his sister was checked in, along with the other Lords’ servants.

The sooner I got Arrah on our side, the quicker I could just sink into a bed and black out for a few hours. Demios didn’t answer.

“Demios?”

“Yes?”

“Are you ready?” I reformulated my question.

“Yes, I nodded yes…”

“I can’t see you, buddy.” I almost stifled a grin before I remembered he couldn’t see me either. “Let’s go.”

We kept moving. It wasn’t long before he needed another break.

By the third pause, however, I groaned with frustration and grabbed him, tossing him over my shoulder like a bag of potatoes. He whimpered for a while, but eventually got accustomed to being carried up hundreds of stairs.

“You’re strong,” he croaked at one point.

Indeed, I was. But I was also very tired. Every minute that passed made me cry out for my bed. The adrenaline was finally leaving my body, and exhaustion was slowly settling in.

Just a little more, Fi. Just a bit.





Fiona





(Daughter of Benedict & Yelena)