Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Hello, gorgeous,” she said in a seductive voice, her gaze traversing his horns before drifting down his torso.
“Monica,” Vasilios replied, dipping his head in greeting. I noticed his body language was tense. Why was he so wary of her?
When she was done looking him over, she finally deigned to glance my way. “Ah, I see you brought your little friend.”
“Darya,” I told her. “We haven’t formally met.”
She continued to eye me. “I saw you the other day. It appears your fortunes have changed for the better.”
“Just a little.”
“Well,” she went on, and though her tone was cordial, I sensed the inner fury that Vasilios had brought me with him. As a matter of fact, I still hadn’t gotten around to asking him why he wasn’t interested in her. She was very beautiful and could clearly add to his position of power within the prison. “I hope you realise how lucky you are. New inmates are rarely invited to Sarasin’s Midnight.”
“I’ve gathered that,” I said before taking a sip of wine.
Monica pursed her lips, staring me down. When I continued to hold her gaze, she finally looked away, bringing her attention back to Vasilios. She peppered him with flirty conversation, and I took the opportunity to scan the room.
How did this place even exist in the prison? It didn’t feel like a part of it. It felt like another world. Like a spaceship in the form of a Victorian glass house that had landed on the roof and made itself at home.
A variety of plant life crawled up the glass walls, and there was a humidity that didn’t exist in the main part of the prison. I wondered why the warden and the rest of the guards allowed Sarasin to live there unchecked. Evidently, he still had use of his powers since the thorn tattoos blocked magic, not psychic abilities. I imagined the wards surrounding the prison prevented him from using those powers to communicate with the outside world.
I was still busy observing the gathering when Lara, alongside several other elves, began placing plates of food in front of each guest. I stared at the meal before me, and my mouth watered. Where had they gotten all that stuff? Not to mention the wine tasted delicious.
The meal was entirely vegetarian, with beetroot, sauteed green beans, spinach, and cherry tomatoes, drizzled with a delicious herb sauce. After spending the last however many days eating nothing but the bland food served in the dining hall, it was a feast for the senses. As I took a bite, it suddenly occurred to me where all the food had come from. It had been grown right there in Sarasin’s glass house. Come to think of it, he probably even made the wine himself, too.
I noticed the vampires didn’t bother with the food, preferring to sip the wine as they waited for their host to make an appearance. Obviously, the meal wasn’t the reason why they came. They came with hopes of having the Gift bestowed upon them. It was understandable, really. Many of them probably wanted to know their futures, mainly to find out whether they’d ever get out.
“You know, I’ve been speaking with some of the other demons,” I heard Monica say to Vasilios, “and a lot of us think both you and Sven should be accepted into our group. You’re both half demon. That should be enough. It’s silly to reject you just because you might be half something else.”
I stiffened at that news because if Vasilios and Sven were allowed to integrate with the demon population of the prison, that would leave me high and dry. I realised I was being a little too obvious about eavesdropping when Vasilios dropped me a glance. I quickly focused back on the plate in front of me and felt his stare before he turned back to Monica.
“That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure others wouldn’t allow it.”
“Oh, screw them. They’re just a bunch of old fogeys who need to get with the times,” Monica said before knocking back a gulp of wine. My attention went to her slim, toned arm, and I wondered again why Vasilios, or Sven for that matter, didn’t return her obvious interest.
“I don’t think it’s as easy as that,” he said before turning his attention back to me. “How are you liking the meal?” he asked quietly.
“It’s amazing. Do you think they grow all the vegetables here? And the wine? Where does it all come from?”
“I don’t know, but it’s certainly nothing like the food they serve downstairs.”
“This used to be a greenhouse where prisoners were permitted to garden and grow their own produce once upon a time,” Monica explained. “Then Sarasin took over, and now, it belongs to him and him alone.”
“What about the servers?” I asked.
“They come when he summons them, but they don’t live up here. Sarasin is a solitary man. I think he prefers to be alone most of the time.”