Wicked Soul (Ancient Blood #1)(9)
When Warin groaned low in his throat, apparently at the taste of my blood, I was suddenly thankful for my miserable state. I was pretty sure it’d be highly inappropriate to enjoy getting eaten.
He gave my collarbone and shoulder three long, slow licks before he paused, mouth hovering above my clavicle at the bottom of my first cut. “I need you to move behind me,” he rumbled. “Give me a moment. Then untie me.”
“Trying to fight off the urge to suck me dry?” I joked shakily.
Judging from the glare he shot me, I wasn’t as funny as I thought. Probably because I’d hit the nail on the head.
“Excuse me for trying to lighten the mood,” I muttered as I slid out from in front of him to hide behind his back.
He didn’t respond, and I focused my attention on not passing out while I waited for his self-control to strengthen.
“Untie me.”
At least the vampire sounded like he was back in control of himself again. I sent a silent prayer to my goddess and reached around his body to work the knot. It was harder than it’d been to tie it, partly because I couldn’t really see what I was doing and partly because my fingers seemed less obedient. The dripping of blood from the wounds on my shoulder and collarbone had slowed down after Warin licked them, but I was still not doing too great. It wouldn’t be that much longer until my need for a hospital visit became urgent.
“Look away,” I said when my fingertips slipped on the knot for the fifth time. “I need to see what I’m doing.”
Warin turned his head to the left, and I slipped out from behind him to his right side and bent over the chain. Now that I could see, it only took me two tries to get it loosened. Two seconds later, I pulled it off him with a triumphant smile. “There. Free vampire!”
The vampire shot me another “you’re either insane or high from blood loss” look, but instead of commenting, he crouched down—and then punched the floor.
The cement cracked like a broken plate under his knuckles.
I yelped and stumbled back against the bars when the floor shifted under my feet. Warin didn’t so much as glance in my direction. Instead, he grabbed a large piece of the broken cement and began digging. It took less than a minute before there was a large hole right up against the front part of the cage, next to the door. Warin tossed the chunk of cement aside and continued with his hands, scooping dirt up into an ever-increasing pile next to me at a pace no human could ever have replicated.
Once it was deep enough, he jumped in with all the grace of a panther and continued clawing at the side of the hole with his fingers. He’d scooped out so much soil only his legs were sticking out by the time I realized exactly what his plan was.
“You’re actually… you’re digging a tunnel. We’re legit going to make our grand escape by digging our way out?” My legs wobbled, and I sank to the broken concrete floor with a dizzy giggle. My head felt so woozy, images from old movies featuring files baked into cakes and Wild West cowboys flickered in front of my eyes. Warin didn’t answer me, and I decided it was probably a good idea to lay down and rest my eyes.
It felt like a second later when rough hands pulled on my shoulders. I jerked, and then squealed when the same hands dragged me into the hole. Dirt fell into my eyes, and I screwed them shut. The next moment, I was pulled by my shoulders through a claustrophobia-inducing space. Mass pushed in from all sides, and the smell of dirt surrounded me as clumps drizzled onto my face and body. I began to let out another squeal of protest, and promptly got a mouthful of dry soil.
I was pulled up through another hole, hacking and spitting dirt, before the distinct sensation of being lifted up into the air made me realize I was finally free.
Carefully, I cracked my eyes open to squint at the room. We were, indeed, out of the hole again, and judging from my view of Warin’s dirt-streaked face, plus the feeling of iron bands around my hamstrings and back, he was holding me, bridal-style.
“I can walk,” I croaked, wiping at my mouth with my arm to get the dirt out. Only my arm—and the rest of my body—was also covered in crumbled up soil, so all I managed to do was wedge more of it in between my lips.
The vampire let me slide to my feet, and I noticed the two ragged holes in the floor, one inside the cell and one outside where we now stood. Then my legs gave out and I landed in a graceless heap next to a mound of dirt.
Warin didn’t pay my swooning damsel routine any mind. He leapt to the door, kicked it once, and sent it plus the frame flying into the stairwell beyond. Then, in a blink of an eye, he was gone.
That’s what I got for being all “independent female, can walk herself out of the creepy basement.” Gritting my teeth, I got to my knees before my head began to swim. I decided to not brave my feet again and began crawling toward the now very much open door.
I made it to the new hole in the wall and grimaced at the pile of broken metal and wood I’d somehow have to climb over. Then a pair of leather shoes and black-clad legs landed on the rubble right in front of me with a thud.
I looked up and saw Warin staring down at me with a blank expression.
“Turns out I can’t walk,” I said, grimacing at the pangs of pain from the cuts on my thighs. Getting dragged through a hole and then crawling across concrete was apparently too much for my impromptu bandages. “Do you mind giving me a hand before you disappear into the night?”