“As far as I can tell, the whole thing is run by a man who calls himself the Promoter. And the audience that gathers every week? Mortals, also. They keep all this a secret from the press to prevent the Sanctuary from noticing them and sorting them out. I’ve come to the conclusion that mortals are far worse than any vampire or sorcerer.”

“What’ll happen when they realise I’m still alive?”

“If I don’t feed on you, they’re going to give you to someone who will. What day is it today?”

“Thursday.”

“Then you’ll be dead by tomorrow night.”

Valkyrie didn’t say anything to that.

She didn’t have anything to say for the next four hours, either. She was cold, and getting colder, and she was hungry, and she had other needs.

“I have to pee,” she called out.

For a moment there was just darkness and silence.

“Well,” Caelan said slowly, “that’s a little awkward.”

Embarrassment made her angry. “So what do I do? Knock on the door, or what?”

“I’m really not sure. No other meal has survived long enough to want to go to the bathroom. You’re going to have to just go in here.”

Valkyrie got up, felt her way to the door, and banged her fist against it. “Hey!” she shouted.

She heard the voices from the other cells shouting “Hey!” back.

She kicked the door. “I have to use the toilet!”

The responses she got to that one were predictably disgusting.

And then a new voice, clearer than the others. “Shut up in there!” It wasn’t a voice she recognised.

Most of the other prisoners quietened down, and those that didn’t got a sharp rap on their iron door as a warning. Valkyrie waited until she could be heard.

“Hello?” she called. “I need to go to the bathroom. Hello?”

She heard striding footsteps getting louder, and then the door rattled and the viewing hatch slid open. The beam of a torch blinded her and she immediately looked away.

“What’s going on?” the man demanded. “Why isn’t she dead?”

“I need to use the toilet,” she told him, blinking her vision back.

The man ignored her and repeated his question. “Why isn’t she dead?”

“I’m on hunger strike,” Caelan said.

The man shoved the torch through the hatch in an attempt to see into Caelan’s corner, and Valkyrie reached out and grabbed it, wrenching it out of his grip.

“Give that back!” the man roared.

“You let me go to the bathroom and I’ll give it back.”

“You’re supposed to be dead!”

“Well, I’m alive and I need to pee.”

“Keep the bloody thing!” he snarled, and slammed the hatch shut. She heard him striding away.

“I won’t look,” Caelan said, “I promise.” Angrily, Valkyrie swung the torch to the sound of his voice.