For what felt like several minutes the only sounds that echoed through the air were that of nearby pained moans and the scattered drops of water from the various areas of the basement that always seems to be seeping groundwater.
Finally, Gwen pulled herself up to a sitting position against the back wall of her cell, wrapping her arms around her knees. If she were anyone else I would take this as a defensive position, but she doesn't strike me as a woman who feels defensive about much.
"So," I start, "what brings you to town?"
A smirk plays on her lips. "Well," she puts one arm out palm up, gesturing at her cell, "you just can't beat that southern hospitality."
I smile back at her. "I'm glad we've made you feel so welcome. I'm sure we can prolong your stay here, indefinitely. You look hungry. Are you getting enough to eat, Gwen?"
Her eyes and face are sunken, a greyish tone taking over her skin. I've never seen a starving vampire before, but I'd bet the farm that's what I'm looking at right now. "Crash diet. Trying to get rid of those stubborn last ten pounds. You know how it is, skinny little thing you are."
I spare her a little chuckle. "As much as I'm enjoying your company, and I'm willing to bet I'm the friendliest face you've seen since the last time I was down here, maybe we can move this along."
She tilts her head to the side. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. Azrael's face has been extremely friendly and I've seen his face just about every day since I've gotten here. It's a handsome face, wouldn't you say, Jolene?"
I tensed, struggling not to show how her comment affected me. Azrael hadn't told me that he had been down here at all. I wonder what types of conversations they've been having. I swallow back my jealousy, channeling Az as I adopt a confident stance, folding my arms against my chest and staring down my nose at her.
"Is that why you came back? To see his handsome face? If you were so fond of it, why did you leave in the first place?"
She pushes herself to stand, clumsily and comes towards the bars, stopping just short. She's uneasy on her feet, her balance fraying the longer she stands. It looks like it's taking all of her strength just to stay upright. Evidently, Azrael hasn't been that nice to her if she's still starving.
"Well, being married to the King of all vampires isn't exactly all it's cracked up to be. I didn't leave the man, I left the king. Does it sound fun to you? Jolene? These last few months of your life must have been just exhausting. A human can't do it forever. Is that what you want? To be a vampire queen?"
I struggle not to make a nervous gesture, but I can't quite open my mouth to answer her, either. No, I don't want to be in the seat of power, but it isn't like I have a choice. Wherever I end up is a forgone conclusion.
"If you know anything about me, you know all too well that it doesn't matter what I want."
She lifts a shoulder in a noncommital shrug. "I don't know about that. There are ways around prophecies. Maybe there's a vampire out there who would be happy to just let you go on your merry way once you provided him an heir."
I scoff. "So, I'd be a breeding mare, then?"
She smiles, narrowing her eyes. "Or you could be a pack Luna? Don't pretend you don't have choices, Jo. You're selling yourself short."
Somehow she's managed to turn this conversation around on me and that bothers me more than I'd like. I don't have any of the information I came down here for, and all I've managed is to get talked in circles. I dug my fingers into my biceps and tossed a sideways glance to Claudine, who didn't look any more entertained with Gwen than I was. Time to step up my game.
I put out my hand to Claudine, palm up. "Knife, please?"
She hesitates a fraction of a second before pulling the knife she always carries on her person from a sheath at her side and placing the polished wood handle into my waiting palm.
"Here's what we're going to do, Gwen," I open the vein at my wrist with a small slice, causing Claudine to take a few steps towards me, apprehension in her eyes. I shook my head at her, turning my gaze back to Gwen.
Her pupils are blown out, her fangs visible, her face pressed into the rusted bars. A couple of drops of my blood hit the concrete beside my foot before my wrist closed. "See, I'm chock full of vampire blood, so I can't bleed very long. But I can see that your 'crash diet' isn't exactly taking. So, for every question you answer for me to my satisfaction, I'll let you drink from me for one second. Deal?"
She ran her tongue over her fangs, unable to take her eyes off the few drops of blood now sitting on the dusty concrete floor. "Fine."
"Good. I'm glad we were able to come to an agreement. For obvious reasons, I'm going to wait until the end of my questioning to give you my wrist." I pace a few steps to the side of her cell before turning around and doing the same thing in the other direction. The filth and pebbles crunch against the bottoms of my boots, the sound echoing throughout the space. "Now, are the witches here for me? Or Azrael?"
She clears her throat, looking disdainfully into my eyes. "The witches are here for you, but aren't above taking out Azrael if the opportunity arises."
I quirk a brow. "Is that what you want?"
"I was honest when I told you I didn't leave the man. Personally, I'm here to make sure that if anyone goes, it's you."
I take a deep breath at the mention of my mortality. I don't know what I was expecting. It's what I was hoping to hear, I suppose. I have more control over what happens to me than I do with what happens to Azrael. Sometimes I would swear he fears nothing, forgetting that although he is immortal he isn't impervious.
"And Marley?"
She rests her head against the bars, gripping a bar within each hand tightly enough that the skin stretched around her knuckles turns white. "I don't know where she is now, but she was here in New Orleans. She has plenty of allies here, so my guess is she's still around. I can't see her leaving without satisfying her objective."
Claudine steps into view of the cell, standing beside me. "Are there other vampires with her? Or just you?"
Gwen rolls her eyes, "I don't talk to dogs."
I clear my throat. "Hey, that is a valuable second of drinking my blood you'll be missing out on."
She lets out an audible groan as though she were a spoiled teenager. I don't know if that is just her personality or if she's just extra fussy after several days without food. "I'm the only one that came with the witches from Salem, but I'm not the only one opposing the current status quo." She turns her teasing glare to Claudine. "You, however, might want to be more worried about your own kind. You think everyone is on your pack's side? You're wrong. There are those that don't take so kindly to the way your alpha is handling things."
Claudine's brows dip and a frown mars her soft features. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Gwen smiles, leaning her weight back and pulling against the worn steel bars still clutched in her hands. "Down, boy. Don't bite the messenger. It just means you're not the only pack in town. Maybe not everyone is willing to accept Azrael's rule so easily."
Claudine and I share a meaningful look. I almost wish I hadn't had this conversation. I don't even want to know half of this shit. Other vampires? Other wolves? If I'm supposed to be this great uniting force, why the hell am I creating fragments within races that have been connected for centuries? I shake the thought off. I don't want to think about that any further right now. That's a little more mental gymnastics than I'm prepared for this early in the day.
I walk toward the cell, pulling my sleeve further up my arm. It might be black, but that doesn't mean I want to get my own blood all over one of the only things I own that make me look like a respectable adult.
Claudine walks over to the bucket of Black Sea saltwater that has since been refilled and is sitting off to the side of the cell. I can smell it. It smells of the ocean. She grips the tin cup, dipping it in the water.
"That's just in case you struggle with portion control. You get four seconds. If you don't release when I tell you to - you get the water. Okay?"
Gwen nods, licking at her lips. I push my arm through the bars and she grabs it, sinking her teeth into my wrist and latching her lips around the wound to catch what spills out, only a small amount escaping her.
I watch the ticking of my watch until it reaches four seconds. She stops on her own without me even having to tell her to. The color is already returning to her cheeks. Before I was able to pull my arm back through the bars I felt strong arms hauling me back, and turned to find myself face to face with a very angry Azrael.
"You fed her?" I swallowed hard but refused to look away, holding his stare.
Gwen starts laughing in the cell behind me. "Uh oh, Daddy's home. You're in trouble."
Neither of us spares her a single glance. "You know, when Hassim came and woke me, telling me that you were coming down here unescorted, I thought that couldn't possibly be correct. And here you are, feeding my ex-wife your fucking blood!"
Each word grows to an inevitable crescendo that bounces from each empty surface in the basement causing the muscles in my shoulders to tense. The anger is coming off him in waves, and I feel every single fingertip as they press into my arms. I thought he'd be mad, but I didn't think he would be this angry. Ever the master of stoicism, it's rare to be able to read any mood of Azrael's this clearly. Claudine comes up beside me, making a motion as though she's here to defend me, but Azrael cuts his eyes to her. "Do not, Claudine."
Claudine thinks better of saying anything and before I get the opportunity to come to my own defense, I find myself slung over Azrael's shoulder as he ascends the stairs at inhuman speed.