them find their own way back.
Which is shitty of the vamps, but excellent for me. It gives me an easy way to blend in and not draw attention.
I try the look on as I gaze at my reflection in a small mirror hanging on a corridor wall. Vacant, unfocused eyes. Dreamy smile. Limp, listless arms. Loose legs. Looks like I just got fucked hard and put up wet.
Good.
A shiver runs through me as the memory of Rome’s touch fills my senses, but I don’t force it back like I usually would. That’s the feeling, right there. That’s the authenticity I need to get away with this.
I begin a spiral search pattern, looking for any weaknesses in the defenses. I’ve done plenty of recon on their lair from above ground, so I slowly start connecting what I’ve seen on the surface to what I’m now glimpsing below.
I finally figure out where all those smoke stacks on the surface are coming from—it’s the vampires’ various industries. Kitchens and smitheries and things I can’t even guess at, nor do I want to. I wander into the kitchen at one point with that idiot smile plastered on my face and look up one of the pipes. It’s at least forty feet tall, but only about fourteen inches across.
A tight fit, but not impossible. The problem is that down here, near the stoves and ovens, it’s hot enough to make waves in the air around it—not to mention the crisscrossing metal grates every five feet or so. That’s one hope dashed.
“Come on, girl. Out with you. You’re not allowed in here.”
The head cook chases me out of the kitchen with more patience than I would’ve expected, muttering about bubble-headed tributes, and I wander away.
Guards are posted at every intersection during the day, and they wander around their designated areas, always alert. Some of them snicker as I stumble by, giving each other looks I would expect to see on middle-school boys. Jesus. I guess being immortal means you never have to grow up.
Eventually, on one of my not-so-random wrong turns, I discover where the deliveries come in. It’s a set of stairs a lot like the ones we came down when we were first brought into the palace, and at least half a dozen guards patrol the hallways around it. If I could ambush the guards, I might be able to use that as an escape route, but it’d be dicey.
That’s about as far as I’m able to get before dinner. I don’t even realize how much time has passed until Anastasyia finds me in the hallway and snags my elbow, pulling me after her. I quickly realize that she’s rounding all of the tributes up like a mother hen, and I hurry through the corridors after her as she gathers the pack of girls.
Jessica slips up beside me, her hazel eyes wide as she nudges me with her elbow.
“Where were you?” she asks. “I thought that horrible James killed you.”
I shudder. “No, he didn’t . But not for lack of trying. Lack of skill, maybe.”
She lets out a short, humorless laugh, but then her expression sobers. “He could bond with you, you know. Or me, or any of us. God, can you imagine being bound to him? All that brutality, all the time.” She wraps her arms around herself and shudders. “And a magical element that makes you want it. Ugh.”
“They aren’t all like him,” I tell her, trying to sound comforting. “Some of them are… nice.”
She shoots me a suspicious look, looking equal parts shocked and horrified. “You sound like Winona.”
“Ouch. Take it back,” I say with a grin. “Before I start pointing out obvious shit like it’s some scandalous discovery. If I start stealing that signature move from her, then you’ll know I’ve really lost it.”
Jessica grins as we both pick up our pace a little to keep from getting too far behind the pack. We walk in silence for a moment, then she shakes her head. “I’m really afraid of him.”
“Well yeah, you should be.” I squeeze her hand. “Just avoid him at all costs.”
“How?”
I shrug. “Do it like Elise does, or hell, even Winona. She might be a bitch, but she’s not a dumb bitch. Flirt with someone more powerful than—what’s-his-name.”
I know the fucker’s name. There’s no way I’ll ever forget it. But there’s also no way I’ll say it unless I absolutely have to.
Jessica snorts, looking a little less pallid and terrified than she did this morning. “So, basically