CHAPTER 12
“Oz, Oz,” Isabel whispered. She had been stuck in the same position for a couple of hours now; it was getting cold and she had no extra clothes, nothing to keep her from shivering convulsively. The cells were darker than last time; she thought it was because the winter was setting in. “Oz,” she said again, and this time, she felt a movement in the cell next to her.
“Hey,” he said, his knuckles the only thing visible behind the wrought iron bars. “I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to lay low, don’t want to cause any more problems.”
“Yeah,” Isabel breathed. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” he said, his lips curving to a wry smile. His teeth had a yellowish tint to them; Isabel couldn’t care less. She leaned in and kissed him, but he pulled away, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I just can’t focus on anything right now. I won’t be able to give you my full attention, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said, the silver of her eyes glowing in the moonlight. It seeped in through the barred windows, illuminating Oz’s face. Suddenly she felt a hand come over her own, and she let out a gasp, pulling her hand away.
“Isabel, it’s Presten,” a voice said. Isabel reached out and, realizing the iron bars didn’t hinder her, touched Presten’s face.
“Presten, is that really you?” she asked. “It sounds like you.”
“It is me,” he said, grabbing her hand and kissing it. Isabel didn’t know whether to feel awkward or flattered. The place was pitch dark; it was almost impossible to make out the faces of the people in there.
“Are we in the same cell?” Isabel asked, feeling around for his hand again.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I just didn’t realize it until, you know, I heard smooching sounds.”
Isabel’s chuckle sounded more like a sigh. She was careful not to make a noise, but in the silence of the cells she was secretly suffering, Presten’s presence was but a roadblock to her, a reminder of how hungry she felt. Suddenly she heard a sound that made her jump. “What was that?” she asked. Her eyes were darting back and forth, trying to discern the source of the noise. Her gaze landed on the ashen face of a little girl staring back at her through the bars. Strands of her hair were glowing in the light and she smiled at Isabel as if trying to reassure her. A little more light seeped into the room, illuminating the girl’s face. Once again, Isabel recognized her as the girl from the coffee shop.
“I know you,” she said in a small voice. “I’ve seen you in my dreams.”
“You know me?” Isabel asked, blinking at her. “What do you know about me?”
“I know that you’re the chosen one,” she said, her pearly teeth showing through her smile. “And I know he’s the chosen one, too.” She patted Presten on the back, making him jump. “There, there,” she said again. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“How do you know me?” Presten asked, squirming away.
“Like I said, I’ve seen you in my dreams.” She patted Presten on the back again, but this time, he didn’t flinch. She flashed Isabel an even wider smile, but before Isabel could say anything, the girl’s face fell away from the light, and she disappeared again.
“Isabel! Isabel, look,” Presten said, nudging her with a piece of rolled paper.
“What is that?” she asked, taking it from him.
“She left this. It literally just fell off my back,” he said. Isabel unrolled the paper and lifted it up in front of her. The blue haze of the night allowed her to read what was written; I will be back by sunrise.
“I will be back by sunrise?” Isabel asked, her eyebrows furrowed. “Who do you think this girl is, and is she on our side?”
“Guards!” a woman’s voice echoed across the cells. “Bring them to me!” The gates swung open and Isabel found herself being handcuffed and forced to leave the cells. Presten was right behind her, but they didn’t take anyone else.
“Isabel! Isabel!” she heard Abeo yell, his voice getting more and more distant as she went up the stairs. She squinted at what seemed to be the light at the end of the tunnel, but when she saw that same old woman standing at the top of the stairs, she rolled her eyes in disgust.
“You don’t look so happy to see me,” the woman snarled, her eyes darting from Isabel, to Presten, and then to Isabel again. “Now, let’s just cut to the chase; is Gavin dead or alive?”
“He’s alive, but not for long,” Isabel said.
“So you’re dead set on being stupid, on being reckless?” she asked, her nostrils flared. Isabel didn’t say anything. “Alright, then. Guards, take them back! And listen here, Isabel, we’re going to send out rescue missions all over Paris… and we’re going to find Gavin and the others, whether you like it, or not!”
“Well, good luck finding them,” Isabel said coldly.
“Oh, we’re going to,” she hissed. “And when we do, we’re going to kill off all the rebels, including you!”
Presten snarled at her like a dog before the guards took him away. A million thoughts were racing through Isabel’s head and when she finally settled into the depressing quietude of the cells, she felt powerful again. It was ironic, but she reminded herself that this was all cause and reaction; if they didn’t intimidate the vampires, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. “It’s almost dawn,” she said, rather to herself. A little under an hour later, the sun’s rays slashed through the windows and Isabel could breathe again. She waited for the girl to show up and when she noticed her shadow on the wall, Isabel rose to her feet attentively. Her hands were balled up; Isabel could tell she was holding something. The girl walked slowly towards Isabel and, making sure no one could see her, she handed Presten another note, and Isabel, a brown cloth bag.
“What is this?” she asked, but before she could even raise her eyes to the girl again, she was gone.