I start to pull back and that’s when he takes over. Flipping us over, so I’m the one trapped below him. Glass cuts into the back of my head as I try to slide out from under him. He uses force to knock my knife out of my hand and pin my arms above my head.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. “I just need you calm.”

Then he sinks his teeth into my neck.

Chapter 32

“What do you think it’s like to live in the outside world?” I’m twelve, maybe thirteen years old, sitting on the concrete floor.

The guy I speak to is a few years older, with dark hair, and eyes as black as ash. Sylas.

“Better than in here,’ he says, pointing at the red door. “Anything would be better than living in here.”

A scream reverberates from the hall and I shudder. “You don’t think that’s Aiden, do you?” I ask.

Sylas looks at me, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Do you worry about me like that? When I’m back there?”

“Do you want me to worry about you?” I try to sound confident, but he makes me nervous.

He smiles, leaning in. “Never. I only want you to worry about yourself.” The he brushes his lips against mine.

“You’re next,” Aiden says and we pull away. His arms are covered in cuts, bruises covering his face.

I jump to my feet, leaving Sylas on the floor. “You’re not healing.” I touch his bruises.

He covers my hand with his. “He didn’t want me to heal today.”

I frown. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

“It’s okay.” He brushes my hair back. “I’m feeling better now.”

Sylas jumps to his feet and stomps down the hall.

“You shouldn’t let him confuse you like that.” Aiden sits on the ground and crosses his legs. “He loves to get inside your head.”

I sit down beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt me.”

Aiden shakes his head and then rests it on top of mine. “He’ll hurt anything if it means he gets something out of it.”

“You shouldn’t be so mean to him,” I say. “He’s you brother.”

“Only by blood,” he whispers. “And maybe one day that will change.”

My face rests in warm, sticky liquid that coats my hair. Blood, leaking from my neck. My eyelids flutter open and I see shoes, black with clunky soles and broken shoelaces.

“You sure she’s not dead?” A voice says. “You dropped her pretty hard when you brought her in here.”

“She’s not dead,” another answers. “Look, she’s still breathing. And if you listen really really hard, you can detect her tiny little heart beat.”

“So she’s turning human,” he says. “That means Aiden wasn’t lying—she chose not to take the medicine.”