Chapter 59

As soon as Natasha left, Lynda forced herself to eat the food on the tray. Nothing tasted good and even the wine held a bitter aftertaste. She wanted to get out of here and find her men. Was Pierre okay? What about Mihnea and Andrei? How long had she been here? The chains binding her ankles and wrists linked up to four points on the floor, allowing her to move around the room and stretch her legs. An ancient-looking chamber pot sat in the far corner but she had no pillow or blanket in this stoned prison.

With no window only stone walls to look at, Lynda didn’t know if it was morning or night.

Boris sauntered inside and she guessed it was night since vampires were in hibernation during the daylight. Doubtful that her blood would allow him to be in the sun for days.

“Good to see that you’ve eaten, finally.” He nodded.

She wanted to spit into his smirking face. Instead, she didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding.

“I don’t like keeping you a prisoner, Lynda. But you are too powerful to allow to roam on your own.” He whistled and a young vampire rushed into the dungeon with a bucket of water and rags. Another came in behind her and took out the empty tray.

“Am I supposed to thank you?” Lynda held up her wrists, red and chaffed from the shackles.

His face hardened but he said, “I’ll get your injuries healed. But this is for your protection. With me and your magic contained, you need not fear the witches who wish you dead.”

“So I’m trading my freedom, my life for a prison sentence?” She shook her head. “No thanks.”

“We can help each other, Lynda.” Boris knelt across from her. “You give me the gift of your blood, and I tell you all I know about your ancestry and what my cousin told me about her necromancer magic and how to harness it.”

“Tempting.” She rubbed her chin as if considering. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. Best if I screw up all on my own than have to worry about killing you to keep you from doing this to anyone else.”

His hand flew out of nowhere and struck her across her cheekbone. The young vampire girl squeaked. He stood, his fists clenched. “Clean her up but no matter what she says, don’t take the chains off or I will skin you and your entire family alive.”

He stormed out of the dungeon. The iron door banged shut in his wake.

Though her cheek stung, Lynda smiled. If she could rile up Boris enough he might make a mistake. She just had to be ready when the opportunity came.

Lynda tugged on the metal band around her wrists. Runes and other symbols she didn't recognize had been etched across the surface. A spell to block her powers. She needed to find a way around the magical shackles and get to her men. The thought of them hurt or worse sent a hot poker into her gut. Her magic wasn't working, but if she could get her wrist free then the magic holding her would weaken. Iron scrapped her flesh and she hissed out a breath. There had to be a way out. Something she was missing. All spells had a weakness...an escape...except a death spell. There was no returning from the grave unless she became a vampire or paid a necromancer to bring her back to life. She let out a hoarse laugh at the irony.

Pressing on the latch of the cuff, she searched for a kink in the metal. Maybe there was a spot, rusted from time that would allow for a direct magical hit and break.

Nothing.

She checked her other wristbands, then both of her ankles. Here, a sliver of a crack showed in the faint electric light. If she could pinpoint her magic into that spot, she could break the enchantment and weaken the entire lock. Then she'd have to test each band to find the next weakest point and so on. But it was a start.

Carefully, she focused her emotions into a fine point and pushed her magic forward into the crack in the metal, testing the strength. An invisible whip struck her across the back. Pain seared her but not as bad as before when she tried to get out of the shackles using her magic.

This was painful but tolerable. She could keep doing this until she broke the crack open.

Using the same amount of magic she used before, she probed the crack again. Another whip of magic slashed across her lower back. She straightened from the impact but had tightened her body expecting the blow so this time it didn't hurt as much. Three more times she used her magic to weaken the metal cuff.

Sweat beaded her brow and the scent of her blood made her stop. If the vampires came in they would smell her blood and wonder what she had been up to. Then Boris might make her unconscious, hook her up to an IV and that wouldn't help her or her princes.

Since she couldn't heal herself, she needed to wait until her wounds stopped bleeding a bit before trying again.

An hour or so later, when the door creaked open, Lynda jammed her wrists and ankles into her cuffs, reopening her wounds and to hide the fact that her back was bleeding from using her magic. She scooted as far as she could to face the vampire bringing her water and food. His nostrils flared but she didn't lower her gaze.

Seeing her wrists and ankles, he snorted but left the tray for her. He left, and Lynda let out a breath.

She returned to forcing her magic into the crack. This time the backfire slashed her across her arm. The jagged injury bled too freely. She wrapped the edge of her shirt around the wound. Altogether, she had four locks to break before she was free.

Soon the vampire would return for the tray and wonder why the scent of blood was so strong and her food not eaten.

She ate as fast as she could.

Then she lay on her side, tucking her damaged arm close while she pretended to be asleep when the vampire retrieved the tray. Moments later, the door swung open and a thin vampire strolled in. He removed the tray without a word, locking the door behind him.

Lynda shot up. Her injuries stung, but she had to do this. A painful hiccup bubbled in her throat as she pressed her magic into the lock. This time the whiplash struck her cheek.

She brought her fingers up to her cheek and when she looked at them, blood covered the tips. How the hell was she going to explain what happened?

No sense worrying about it, she had to keep going. Two more tries and the metal cuff clicked open. Elation surged into her heart. Now, she had three more bands to break and then she was getting the hell out of here before Boris could use her as a living blood bag.

With the one cuff open, the spell would be weaker on the other bindings. She had to hurry though. Any second Boris or Natasha would enter and discover what she'd done. Sweat broke out across her brow. Her hands fumbled for the lock on her wrist, sending her power into the joint.

In her mind, she imagined Pierre, Mihnea, and Andrei safe and waiting for her to return to them. Picturing them any other way would rip her to shreds.

Another slash hit her upper thigh but she continued pushing her magic forward.

She gritted her teeth, trying again. Her ears strained for any sound that one of the others was coming.

The lock on her wrist popped off and a cry of joy burst through her lips. Two more and she'd be free. The next lock snapped open after the fourth attempt.

One more. The scent of blood filled the small chamber and she pushed aside the fear clutched at her heart.

She could do this. The last lock and she'd get out of here. Blast anyone who stood between her and freedom.

First try didn't do anything except lash deep into her shoulder. Clenching her teeth, she worked again. Another wound stung her across her abs and her scream lodged in her throat. Once the pain subsided a bit, she whispered, “C’mon, c’mon.” The magic in her swirling like she was going to be nauseous.

Heavy footsteps sounded near the door. She was out of time.

The door swung open, and she couldn’t wait any longer. She thrust all of her magic at the shackle. It busted apart and Lynda stood just as the door swung open.

Natasha’s eyes widened at seeing her free. Her hands flew up, and a ball of fire zigged straight for Lynda.

“No!” Lynda dove out of the way of the attack.

The fire crashed against the far wall, sliding down in smoldering ash.

Before Lynda could stand, another bolt of magic shot toward her. Defensively, she held up her hand. The magic bounced off Lynda’s palm, stinging it like she’d slapped her hand against a hot pan. Lynda pushed her magic forward, and it slammed into Natasha, tossing her against the wall. The half-vampire slumped over.

A yell broke through the air. Lynda scrambled to her feet, her body trembling from losing blood and using so much magic. Even without trying, she knew her power would produce nothing more than a fizzle until she recovered. She swayed on her feet. Still, she clenched her hands ready to fight her way out however she could.

In the doorway, with rage in his eyes stood Boris.