The Legend of the Eight: The Wicked (Book 2)

17: The Cell

SEVENTEEN: THE CELL
MARCH 26
NICOLE BRADLEY

CONSCIOUSNESS RETURNED TO HER IN a series of flashes. First, it was the ground. Cold and hard like stone. Then it was the emptiness. Like she was trapped in some kind of voice that swallowed sound. Then came the dampness. Moisture hanging in the air and dripping like a pipe with a slow leak. Darkness filled the room but up above, through a small window at the top, a sliver of light slipped in from the moon.

She saw the texture of the bricks in the walls around her but couldn't make out anything else. Wherever she was, she was trapped.

"Hello?" She tried to speak but a cough replaced her voice and she wheezed weakly. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth and when she did, she heard the sound of metal chains dragging across the stone. Her wrist felt heavy and in the light, she saw shackles around them, chaining her to the ground.

Panic set in and she began pulling on the chains, tugging as hard as she could to break free. What was that spell again? She tugged again until she was sure she'd lose her hand.

"Nicole?" A weak voice said through the dark. "It's me. It's Kate. Are you okay?"

Nicole coughed again before she could answer. "I—I'm okay. I think. Where are we? What happened?"

"I don't know. We were at Luke's and then..." Her voice trailed. "I don't know."

Nicole's head hurt and she lifted her free hand to massage her temples.

"Illuminabit," Kate spelled quietly, straining to cast the spell. At the center of her palm, a faint light appeared like a flashlight with dying batteries. She moved it around the room, shining it on four other figures—Liam, Drew, Phoebe and—

"Logan?" Nicole gasped, recognizing the dark mop of hair and fair skin. He was marred with dirt and dried blood and looked like he hadn't gotten a decent meal in weeks. His shirt was torn, revealing pieces of a tattoo down his side—until then, Nicole never knew where his Eight mark was.

But before she could figure out how Logan ended up in the cell with them or how long he'd been there, outside, the lock clicked and the heavy door was pushed open. Kate quickly shut her light in her fist and Nicole sat up straighter. As the door opened, light from the hall outside spilled in. When it did, the others stirred awake and groaned weakly.

A man entered the room and didn't bother introducing himself. No, a man like him needed no introduction. He was of average height and he looked scrawnier than the last time she saw him. With blonde hair to his shoulders and dark blue eyes set far back in his head, he smiled at his room of teen captives and revealed two rows of jagged teeth like he'd been chewing on glass. Bartemius Thawne.

"Good morning," he said with a wicked laugh and behind him, two other Darks appeared. "I hope you find your new accommodations—" He looked around and smirked. "—Satisfactory."

Nicole squinted to see him more clearly and Kate fired out,

"Why did you bring us here? Where are we?"

"Last time we met, we weren't on an even playing field."

In the corner, Drew jingled his chains and then snickered.

"And you consider this an even playing field? Wow. We must be much more powerful than we thought."

Bartemius shook his head, impressed by Drew's nerve. Then he turned to the men on his hips and whispered something incoherent before leaving. The next thing Nicole knew, the men marched into the room towards her.