glanced over her shoulder as she made her way down to the Manor’s wine cellar. Well, to what
used
to be a wine cellar. Now it was a dungeon. And, if her dad caught her going down here, she was toast.
Allai followed the steps leading down to the dungeon door, counting the echoes her shoes made on the concrete floor. Her fingertips trailed along the rough wall, and she tried not to let her heart beat too fast. She hated these walls. They were confining and narrow, and gave her a tingling feeling of claustrophobia.
The dungeon door came into view, and she hedged back a step. A young Charger guard glared at her from in front of the door, his claws half extended and his wings flared just enough to look threatening. He took a moment to lazily examine her face, and his lip lifted in a snarl when he recognized her.
“I want to see Drake,” Allai said. There was no point bothering with a greeting; it wouldn’t be returned.
“You’re on a first-name-basis with Rhaize’s son?” The guard scoffed. “Figures.”
Allai straightened to her full height. She felt a little stupid, trying to intimidate this guy with her four-feet-ten-inches. “Let me through. Or I’ll have you doing a job worse than guarding the dungeon.”
He growled at her, and for a moment Allai felt just a little guilty. She didn’t usually use her dad’s status for leverage. But she didn’t feel like playing games with this guy, and she wanted in that door. Preferably
without
being sliced to ribbons.
“Fine.” The guard stepped to the side, allowing her access to the entrance. “You can go in. But if Ardus ever asks, tell him it’s not my fault I let you in, and that you threatened me.”
“Sure.” Allai stepped forward and yanked at the steel door, glaring at him when he didn’t help open it. “I’ll be glad to tell your superior you just got manipulated by a Nox.” Before he could respond, she slipped inside and slammed the door closed behind her.
The dungeon looked nothing like its name implied. There were no rusting iron bars, no dank dirt floors. It was more like a bunker, complete with concrete walls and steel-rebar supporting nearly everything. The military-grade cells were the only way to contain the Demon occupants.
As far as she knew, Drake was the only current prisoner. The Sentinel didn’t take many captives, and when they did, people didn’t last long down here. The dungeon was really more of a holding cell, until enemy Demons were either released or killed. Usually the latter.
It was a straight shot through the narrow entranceway to the first cell, but she still had to take deep breaths to calm her nerves. She knew dungeons were supposed to be creepy, but this one seemed to go above and beyond.
Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, never flickering or wavering, and giving the dungeon a dream-like feel. And the acoustics didn’t make things much better. It was dead silent, except for her hesitant footsteps. She made a mental note to never, ever get on the bad side of the Sentinel; she’d hate to stay down here long.
Her dad would also hate that. Well, he’d just hate having her down here. No one was allowed in the dungeon without the accompaniment of a guard or a Sentinel superior. But the guard on duty didn’t seem to have any interest in keeping her alive, and she wasn’t about to go fetch Luke. He’d just scold her with a bunch of panicked swearing, and then drag her back upstairs.
And he’d have every right to do that. Because she shouldn’t be in the dungeon in the first place, especially when she really had no reason to even come here. That’s what she kept trying to tell herself: She had no reason to come down here. This little trip was pointless. Maybe even stupid.
But her feet just kept carrying her forward, toward the first cell, toward Drake. Allai approached cautiously, her footsteps growing lighter and more hesitant. She really had no idea what she was doing down here. The cell would prevent
used
to be a wine cellar. Now it was a dungeon. And, if her dad caught her going down here, she was toast.
Allai followed the steps leading down to the dungeon door, counting the echoes her shoes made on the concrete floor. Her fingertips trailed along the rough wall, and she tried not to let her heart beat too fast. She hated these walls. They were confining and narrow, and gave her a tingling feeling of claustrophobia.
The dungeon door came into view, and she hedged back a step. A young Charger guard glared at her from in front of the door, his claws half extended and his wings flared just enough to look threatening. He took a moment to lazily examine her face, and his lip lifted in a snarl when he recognized her.
“I want to see Drake,” Allai said. There was no point bothering with a greeting; it wouldn’t be returned.
“You’re on a first-name-basis with Rhaize’s son?” The guard scoffed. “Figures.”
Allai straightened to her full height. She felt a little stupid, trying to intimidate this guy with her four-feet-ten-inches. “Let me through. Or I’ll have you doing a job worse than guarding the dungeon.”
He growled at her, and for a moment Allai felt just a little guilty. She didn’t usually use her dad’s status for leverage. But she didn’t feel like playing games with this guy, and she wanted in that door. Preferably
without
being sliced to ribbons.
“Fine.” The guard stepped to the side, allowing her access to the entrance. “You can go in. But if Ardus ever asks, tell him it’s not my fault I let you in, and that you threatened me.”
“Sure.” Allai stepped forward and yanked at the steel door, glaring at him when he didn’t help open it. “I’ll be glad to tell your superior you just got manipulated by a Nox.” Before he could respond, she slipped inside and slammed the door closed behind her.
The dungeon looked nothing like its name implied. There were no rusting iron bars, no dank dirt floors. It was more like a bunker, complete with concrete walls and steel-rebar supporting nearly everything. The military-grade cells were the only way to contain the Demon occupants.
As far as she knew, Drake was the only current prisoner. The Sentinel didn’t take many captives, and when they did, people didn’t last long down here. The dungeon was really more of a holding cell, until enemy Demons were either released or killed. Usually the latter.
It was a straight shot through the narrow entranceway to the first cell, but she still had to take deep breaths to calm her nerves. She knew dungeons were supposed to be creepy, but this one seemed to go above and beyond.
Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, never flickering or wavering, and giving the dungeon a dream-like feel. And the acoustics didn’t make things much better. It was dead silent, except for her hesitant footsteps. She made a mental note to never, ever get on the bad side of the Sentinel; she’d hate to stay down here long.
Her dad would also hate that. Well, he’d just hate having her down here. No one was allowed in the dungeon without the accompaniment of a guard or a Sentinel superior. But the guard on duty didn’t seem to have any interest in keeping her alive, and she wasn’t about to go fetch Luke. He’d just scold her with a bunch of panicked swearing, and then drag her back upstairs.
And he’d have every right to do that. Because she shouldn’t be in the dungeon in the first place, especially when she really had no reason to even come here. That’s what she kept trying to tell herself: She had no reason to come down here. This little trip was pointless. Maybe even stupid.
But her feet just kept carrying her forward, toward the first cell, toward Drake. Allai approached cautiously, her footsteps growing lighter and more hesitant. She really had no idea what she was doing down here. The cell would prevent
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