Blue Flames

Chapter 15

My head was swimming. My stomach roiled, threatening to empty its contents. In a blink of an eye, my surroundings had morphed from a blood soaked battleground to a dimly lit, hot and dingy room.

Sweat dripped down my neck and back, and my entire body felt as though it had been through the rack. I faintly realized I'd lost consciousness at some point, though I couldn't recollect when or how.

I was hanging from the ceiling.

The thought pierced the haze in my mind. A tug on my wrists confirmed it. My wrists were burning, as if the manacles were made of silver. That was not good. Why would the manacles be silver? But it was so difficult to stay alert. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and go to sleep. My head lolled to the side.

No!

With gritted teeth, I forced my eyes open and tried to focus on my surroundings again. Old stone walls with fire torches hung along them. The flames' shadows danced on the ground. It was so damn hot. Too hot. The heat was not helping me get my shit together.

Focus, damn it.

Despite the dizziness, I looked around. The only door was a metallic one behind me, and it was closed. My ankles were also bound to the ground, the shackles stinging my skin upon contact.

Great, just great. Why would the killer use silver chains? Either he knew I wasn't really human, or he did it as a force of habit.

I thought of the other crime scenes. It took me a few seconds to get my head clear enough to remember that he'd only used rope to bind his other victims. Which meant he suspected I was not human. Fantastic.

With this much silver in direct contact with my skin, I couldn't actively use my magic. It had retreated deep within me, into my heart, where it was safe.

The longer I was exposed to silver, the more tired and weak I would get. I needed to act now. Think, Elle, think.

I was alone in the room. Another glance at the door revealed it had a small opening with bars I could see nothing beyond.

I looked at the shackles. They were embedded in the ceiling and the floor. Only the manacles looked silver, though. The chains were steel. Not that it helped.

Further pulling and tugging on them only got me more burns. My skin turned a lovely shade of dark purple.

My weapons were gone. I was in the t-shirt I had under my sweater and my pants, my feet bare. Well, at least they let me keep my clothes. Being butt naked while hanging from the ceiling was not a very enjoyable thought.

I always strapped a small steel knife on my bare thigh under my pants. It was still there. Good, at least one thing went right.

Obviously, I couldn't get out of this little cell on my own. And I had no idea what awaited me outside. I certainly hoped Arthur and the others were looking for me.

Hope was a dangerous thing. The lone girl who grew up in the woods, and then later spent a life as an outsider with humans, shied away from the idea of embracing that hope.

I had always been alone, I had been brought up to count on myself, never lean on anyone else. The thought that there was someone out there, right now, looking for me was so foreign as to be an illusion.

Whatever the case, I had to act on the supposition that there would be no help from anyone.

Staying put while my wrists and ankles rubbed against the silver would only make me weaker, and I didn't know when my captor would drop by for a visit. It was better to get him out now while I was still relatively strong.