Fabian was never going to let them out of here. And, at this rate, Vintry was going to die before they ever got a chance to talk to him.
If he wasn't already dead.
Chapter Seventeen
It was another hour, and three orgasms later, before Fabian finally acceded to Arturo's thinly veiled demand to find "Jillian" food and a bedchamber in which to sleep.
"See her fed, then return to me at once, Mazza," Fabian called, as they reached the door behind their guard escort. "Our feast awaits!"
They'd no sooner entered the back hallway when another guard stepped forward.
"I'll take them from here."
Quinn immediately recognized the voice if not the man. Micah.
The original guard nodded and left.
"I found Vintry," Micah said when they were out of earshot of the guard. He looked nothing like himself, his hair long and blond, his face broad as a bowling ball. His glamour was pretty amazing. Then again, so was her own. "He's in the dungeon, locked in a cell in the very back. Alone. They're afraid of his death wind. Access is through the second pantry, behind the wine casks, but I've yet to find the key to his cell."
Micah was speaking fast and low. "I asked him if he could help the sorceress, and he said yes, he could, but he would not. He hates vampires, wants us all to die, etc., etc. Then he started yelling bloody murder for me to leave. A bitter old cuss."
"I'd probably be bitter, too, if someone locked me in a dungeon to die," Arturo muttered. "We'll have to grab him out of there and run. Perhaps Tarellia can convince him to help us."
"You'll be implicated in his sudden disappearance. But you can spin it easily enough."
"I can. Find us an empty bedchamber close to the dungeon where we can set up base."
"Already done." He led them down a second hall with far too many doors, which meant the rooms were microscopic. Probably the Slavas' quarters. Pushing open one of the last doors, Micah stepped back for them to enter.
The room was just as she'd expected, a dingy little closet with a tiny bed that took up the majority of space. She took a seat on it since there was so little room to stand.
Arturo's hand rested on her shoulder, but he turned back to Micah. "I must return to Fabian for the feast, but once it is done, we'll move. Find the key."
"Roger that."
Arturo squeezed her shoulder. "Stay here, cara. I'll find you food. You should be safe here."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Micah promised.
Quinn wasn't entirely sure she wanted Micah keeping an eye on her. There was no way she was sitting here twiddling her thumbs while Arturo attended Fabian. Not when Vintry could be freeing her magic and might die at any moment.
As Arturo started for the door, the sound of a commotion erupted nearby, along with the unmistakable sound of a crying child.
Arturo froze.
"What's a kid doing here?" Micah muttered.
The two vampires strode forward as one. Quinn pushed off the bed and followed, horrified at the thought of a child's witnessing, let alone experiencing, anything that happened in Vamp City.
They didn't have to go far to find the source of the disturbance. A couple of doors down, the hall crossed with another. As they turned, Quinn caught sight of the two pantries Micah had mentioned, one with wine casks in the back.
A short distance farther, the hall opened into a huge kitchen. Standing in front of the door at the back, a trembling young woman cradled a towheaded boy. He couldn't be more than three or four, tears running down his cheeks as he hiccuped with sobs.
The pair were flanked by men Quinn assumed to be vampires, talking to a third dressed in guard's black.
One of the vamps smiled. "Found them outside, just wandering around. They must have escaped the Traders."
Arturo's eyes narrowed, tension stiffening his shoulders even as his face took on a casual, curious expression.
"Has the ban on children been lifted, then?" he asked with mild curiosity bordering on indifference. An indifference she sensed was wholly faked.
"Apparently so," the guard said, "since they were declared fodder for the next Games."
Fodder. Children . . . toddlers . . . sent into the arena to die?
Quinn swayed, grasping the nearest wall. Her gaze flew to Arturo as he and Micah exchanged looks, something passing silently between them. A question, a nod, a shrug.
"I've seen those two," Micah said, stepping forward. "They were running from Sakamoto's contingent several hours ago. I'd have grabbed them myself, but those who steal from Sakamoto have a bad habit of turning up dead."
The two vampires blanched. Sakamoto sounded a lot like Cristoff.
"They were alone," one of the two complained. "We didn't steal them."
"I'm heading out now to do a perimeter check. I'll see if the contingent is still out there and hand them back before Sakamoto declares war on Fabian's Palace."
The vampire pair stepped away from the woman and child like they'd suddenly become radioactive. "Sure, sure. Take them."
The woman stared around her, visibly shaken, pale as snow and clinging to her toddler for dear life. But to her credit, she wasn't crying or begging. Just trying to figure out how to keep her and her son alive.
"Come along," Micah said, gripping the woman's arm lightly. Quinn thought she saw him wink at the woman. "You don't belong here."
The woman didn't fight him, allowing him to steer her out the back door.
Arturo stepped forward. "My Slava is in need of food," he bellowed, drawing all attention. "Where can I get food?"
Most who'd gathered to witness the commotion dispersed. One woman hurried to him with a sandwich on a plate and a can of Coke. Arturo took them from her and walked away, brushing past Quinn without a glance.
Playing her role, Quinn followed him as meekly as she could manage back to her bedroom. But the moment she closed the door, she dropped the fa?ade. "What's Micah going to do with them?"
Arturo handed her the plate, then opened the Coke for her, cocking his head in challenge. "What do you think a vampire will do with two fresh humans?"
Rolling her eyes, she took the Coke. "He's either going to set them free or take them somewhere safe."
"You're so certain?" The look in his eyes told her that her answer mattered. Very much.
"Yes, I'm certain. I saw the look on your face when you heard that kid, Arturo. You turned to stone."
"Children do not belong in Vamp City." His brows drew down in an expression of bafflement. "It is the law. It was the law. No children. Ever. When did it change? When did everything change?"
Now it was her turn to cock her head. "Your reaction was more than annoyance at unauthorized rule breaking. You were horrified."
"Yes." Arturo met her gaze for a long moment before answering her first question. "We are a quarter of a mile from the Boundary Circle. He'll find a way to set them free."
Thank God. But her curiosity was peaked. "You feel a certain protectiveness toward kids, don't you?"
"They deserve a chance to grow up."
She sensed there was more to his reaction. The situation had hit a nerve, but he clearly didn't feel like talking about it with her. Not here. Not now.
She picked up her sandwich. "Micah won't be able to get that key, now, will he?"
"Not yet, no. Unless he runs into trouble, he'll be back very soon."
As if trouble didn't stalk them at every turn.
Arturo eased past her. "I have to return to Fabian. Sleep, if you can. I'll fetch you when I am able. Lock the door as soon as I leave."
"Enjoy your dinner."
With a small smile, Arturo left, closing the door behind him.
Quinn got up and threw the dead bolt, one hundred percent certain it wouldn't actually keep out a vampire who wanted in. But it might dissuade one who didn't want to suffer Fabian's displeasure.
Returning to the bed, she wolfed down the sandwich and Coke. She was exhausted, desperately in need of sleep. But Vintry was still alive and might not stay that way much longer.
Her pulse began to escalate as she formulated a plan. Not only were there vampires out there, but most of them were males with no compunction about taking what they wanted from any human, female or otherwise. Especially a Slava.
She palmed her switchblade, opened the door, and peered cautiously down the hallway. When she saw no one, she stepped out, closing the door behind her, and strode the short distance to the second pantry, then ducked inside and slipped back to the wine casks visible in the light flickering in from one of the small wall torches in the hallway.
She found the door behind the casks just as Micah had described. Though wooden and old, it was well oiled and barely made a sound when she pulled it open. But whatever lay beyond was dark as a crypt. She was going to need a light.
Stealing across the hall, she pulled one of the torches out of its holder, hoping no one would miss it before she returned. Once again, she made her way to the cellar door and pulled it open. Her light illuminated a long, wooden stair and a dark void beyond. A tingle of dread danced down her spine, though she found it reassuring that Micah had just been down there and lived to tell the tale.