Revolution (The Risen Series Book 2)

Chapter 27 ~ The Blame Game

The Final Chapter!

Thank you all for following Shylah's story, we've come so far.

I've already started writing book 3 but I like to get at least five chapters ahead before posting anything, and I need time to make a cover ,and come up with a blurb and title.

If you have a title idea, comment and let me know!

Till then, I will be posting the chapters I have for The North starting, hopefully, next week.

Chapter 27: The Blame Game
***

Kincaid unlocked the basement door, or maybe it was a more a prison door now, but paused before opening it. He turned back to with a grim expression, which didn’t bode well.

“Gideon is doing better but it’s only been a week, so don’t feel disparaged by his state. He comes in and out of awareness about where he is and who he’s talking to, and he hasn’t been feeding well from bottled blood.”

Straightening my spine, I nodded once. My mind had already been conjuring images of what I might see since I found out he was here. All I could imagine was how he looked when we found him; a howling, rabid animal covered in gore and his own mess. While I assumed they’d done their best to clean him up, I knew he wouldn’t be a pretty sight.

“I know what to expect, don’t worry,” I assured him, studying the unfamiliar concern etched in his features. “Are you coming in with me?”

“King’s orders.” He swung the door open. “I don’t let you out of my sight.”

Just how literally was he going to take that, I wondered. Though, there were worse people to be stuck with. Like Thierry. He and I would probably end up tearing each other apart, especially if Elaine wasn’t there.

The laugh that escaped me was humourless and Kincaid cast me a look over his shoulder that I ignored. Closing the door behind me, my nose immediately went to the air but every scent was overpowered by the stinging chemical smell of paint and something else. Wood polish maybe?

Gods. Atanas hadn’t lied when he said the basement cells were being redecorated. Descending the stairs, I took note of how much it had changed. Work must have started not long after we’d left for Rome. Flickering lights now hummed steadily overhead, almost blinding, but I supposed it meant no corner was left untouched. The red bricks walls had been plastered over and painted a dark cream to brighten the windowless space, and the floors had been scrubbed and redone in dark tiles.

Peering round the corner at the bottom step, I found the first few cells empty - of occupants at least. Work tables with tools scattered on the surface, paint, wood and everything else needed to build a prison capable of holding ancient vampires filled the small rooms. The ones towards the end appeared nearly finished. The cell I guessed was meant for Leyla even boasted a toilet and shower, but the blinking red lights of the cameras placed at every angle meant there was no lie about privacy. We would be able to watch her every move, and I didn’t doubt there was something in place for us to listen in too.

There must have been a security room set up, unless Kincaid was keeping it all on his laptop. He seemed to be the go to man for this type of thing. It was no wonder Airell had kept him close, and I wondered just how he’d managed to hide his loyalty to Atanas. Probably using whatever skills were keeping me from being handed over to the police.

“Was it really just a week I was out?” I muttered, rapping my knuckles against the strange thick glass that had replaced the old bars and rusted doors. Was this really strong enough to keep in Ancients?