A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)(10)

“Fair enough. That’s one guy who might not belong here. What about the rest of them?” He glanced at me, his hands busy covering the satchel in the hole with the chunks of rock he’d carved out. “I mean, people of all species commit crimes. It’s obviously in our natures—be we dragons, fae, vampires, or humans. As members of GASP, we’ve seen it over and over. Then we got here and… Well, it’s the same.”

“Do you think they deserve to die, though?”

I wanted to better understand Blaze. He offered viewpoints that were dramatically simple, but very honest. He wasn’t a man of many words, but the thoughts he did voice, he dispensed carefully and eloquently. I liked that about him.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think any of us are capable of determining who deserves to die and who doesn’t. I’ve killed plenty of creatures so far, but they were all trying to kill us first… Self-defense, you know? But these people here? I doubt it. I bet they’re already paying for their crimes.”

Blaze had a point. Even if Arrah was right and her brother was, indeed, innocent, we couldn’t be sure about the other prisoners. Maybe they did deserve to be behind bars. Then again, maybe they didn’t. With everything else that was going on in this city, the Exiled Maras’ legal system was slipping farther down to the bottom of our priorities list.

I only hoped that the charmed satchels would work this time around. After the attack on the Lords’ mansions, we desperately needed a win against the daemons, even if it was in the form of a protective spell.

Too many lives depended on us, including our own.





Blaze





We moved over to the south side of the prison, occasionally looking around at the cages in the middle. Most of the prisoners were Imen of different ages, but I’d seen a couple of Maras, too. They were all chained, dirty, and weak, barely moving, and their eyes had sunk into their heads.

I carved a hole into the southern wall, while Caia kept me company. The Correction Officers didn’t seem very happy to see us, but I’d already gotten used to their natural reluctance toward outsiders. It was mostly a cultural thing, from what I could tell. However, they had no choice but to let us do our jobs—we were trying to protect them, too, after all.

“I still find it weird how fast the daemons moved to plant those explosives,” Caia murmured.

Once I was done with the hole, she handed me another satchel.

“That is, if the daemons were behind this attack,” I replied. Frankly, I wasn’t convinced. Sure, the prison was suspicious, but not suspicious enough to make me think less of the Exiled Maras. But the timing just didn’t fit.

“You think someone else did it?” She raised her eyebrows, and I needed a second to pull myself out of the deep teal pools of her eyes. Caia was simply mesmerizing.

“I wouldn’t exclude the possibility just yet. Think about it this way: they had to have precise knowledge about the mansions and the servants’ movements to be able to plant explosives in the Xunn mansion. Based on our last study of their patterns—at least before we met Tobiah and Sienna—the daemons were barely expanding their hunting grounds up to the second level of the city. As far as we know, Tobiah was the only daemon to reach the top floor, and he’s been keeping his distance since he took Sienna. Maybe the daemons had inside help.”

“Who do you think would be willing to assist the very creatures trying to kill them?” she asked, as I covered the hole. We walked along the edge of the wall until we reached the western side.

The Correction Officers’ eyes followed us around as they patrolled the higher levels.

“Maybe someone who had a bone to pick with the Lords themselves.” I shrugged, then stopped and carved another hole. “We know there are rebel Imen living on the other side of the gorge. Maybe they have loved ones here. Maybe they can’t get back to each other because of the Exiled Maras, for example. It’s just a shot in the dark, but you never know. Or maybe even the Exiled Maras themselves. What if they have some deal going on with the daemons that we know nothing about?”

“That’s highly unlikely.” Caia rejected the premise without hesitation. “Scratch that. It’s downright impossible. They killed Darius and dozens of Maras in the process. Even if they were conspiring with the daemons—and, by default, shamelessly lying to us—they wouldn’t kill their own. No, this was definitely aimed at the Exiled Maras. And frankly, given the tunnels leading up to the higher levels of the mountain… I’m thinking maybe the daemons have been lurking around those parts for longer than we initially presumed. Maybe they’ve been studying the Maras and spying on them for months, even years.”

“That might explain how they had such knowledge of the mansions in the first place.” I nodded as she handed me the third satchel. Our fingers touched, and an electric tingle rushed through my arms, heating me up on the inside.

She had a fascinating effect on me. There was something between us, though I’d yet to formulate coherent thoughts about it. I could feel our chemistry, as it thickened the air whenever we were close to each other. Caia kept me on high alert and had even slipped into my dreams. But my celibacy oath took precedence. I didn’t want to put her through the ordeal of waiting around for me. It wasn’t fair to her.