Chapter 15

Excited whispers that meant nothing to my pounding head echoed around me. I groaned, trying to cover my head with a pillow only to find I was on a cold stone floor, my wrists and ankles bound.

My eyes flashed open and I leapt agilely to my feet, a snarl filling the air. There wasn't much slack in my bound ankles and I had to hold myself absolutely still so I wouldn't topple over, my head swimming and pounding as my body fought whatever drug they'd given me.

Looking around, I saw I was in a cage in an unfinished basement that smelled of mildew, earth and feces as well as unwashed humans and blood.

Almost immediately, I spotted the two girls that had been on my front porch as they circled the room, tittering like school girls. I could see more cages with huddled figures but I couldn't focus my senses enough to tell me what they were or if they were even alive.

"Well, now," the dark-haired Vampire said, "the little Shifter is awake."

"And pissed," I snarled. "Where am I? Who do you work for? What the hell did you give me? And how would you like your corpses taken care of?"

"My, what a big mouth she has," the annoying blonde Demon tsked. "Just wait," she told me, stopping just out of reach of my cage. "All will become clear soon."

"The 'wise old crone' act only works if you're old, wise and smart," I snapped; "too bad you two are none of the above." Maybe it wasn't smart to antagonize my captors but angry people make mistakes, like moving closer and opening cages. "Now, why don't you twit-ettes run along and send down someone in charge so I can quit wasting my time." "You'll pay for that, bitch," the Demon said, taking a step closer, just like I'd planned.

"Maybe, maybe not," I shrugged as much as my bindings allowed, "in either case, I'll be rid of your worthless hides." I watched as the Vampires eyes started turning red, her fangs sliding out as she balled her fists in anger. "Babies," I scoffed. Both girls were slim, shorter than me with little to no muscle. That didn't mean they were easy prey; even the weakest Vamp or Demon was more than a match for a human. But I was willing to bet I could take them both; I fight dirty and, right now, I was fighting for freedom.

"Ladies," a male voice called from the stop of a set of stairs, just out of my sight. "Why don't the two of you help Bobby finish getting things set up?"

The instant they heard his voice, they turned almost docile, there fear easily identifiable even with my crippled senses. I couldn't smell who or what waited at the top of the stairs but I recognized the voice.

"Zaire," I growled as the door closed, leaving me alone with whatever else was in the cages.

I carefully lowered myself back to the ground, trying futilely to get the cords around my wrists and ankles undone. I knew without looking that my pocket knife, as well as the special knife in my boot was gone and, with my wrists bound behind me, I couldn't chew through them. They'd even taken my silver hair sticks.

With nothing else to do as I struggled with the cords, I surveyed the room. My cage was tall enough to stand in but only four feet by four feet otherwise, nothing in it but me and a battered metal bucket that smell strongly of urine. The bars went into the cement under me and were hooked up to a car battery nearby, electrified. It wasn't a bad idea, seeing as how Shifters weren't allergic to anything and could easily escape a common cell.

The walls were concrete as well, water dripping down one crumbling wall well away from any of the cages, though I thought that kind of odd: why would they care about their prisoners?

Other than being a little dirty and still groggy, I was in decent shape. My clothes were undamaged, though scuffed, and my body was functioning without pain, besides my wrists and ankles.

After a while, I started to doze, laying my head on my knees as I let the drug completely work its way out and my senses returned. The sound of voices filtered down, the ceiling creaking as people paced upstairs. I counted the cages around me, though I couldn't see all the occupants because of various obstacles. There were, counting mine, twelve.

Eleven humans were taken from various clubs over the past two months, I thought to myself, comprehension dawning. Eleven other cages; this can't be a coincidence.

At some point, the door opened again, bringing with it a bulky Werewolf and food. He slid the shallow bowls into the cages via a rectangular slot near the floor. He launched my food in from a couple feet back, avoiding the bars entirely, not saying a word or even really looking at anyone. I didn't know him, didn't recognize his scent at all, though something about him caught my attention.

I watched as the other captives fell on their plates like rats, shoveling the steaming stuff into their mouths with their bare hands; I lacked even that luxury.

I tried shifting half-way, thinking to use my claws on the cords. After a few minutes of intense concentration, I'd succeeded only in making my head hurt worse. Coming to the conclusion that either the cords were spelled or whatever they'd given me prevented me from changing, I yanked at my bonds in frustration, forcing them to cut in more and bleed.

"Shh," someone implored. "They will hear you and then they'll punish you." The voice was so hoarse I couldn't tell if it was male or female.

"I doubt these people will care," I told the voice. "They would hear me no matter what and hurt me no matter what. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. Who are you?"

"I'm Jordan." I figure stood up a few cages away from me. The only reason I knew it was female was because of the tattered remains of a dress. She was so filthy, her hair matted and tangled, blood and dirt and maybe other things covering her exposed flesh to the point that I had no clue what she really looked like. "You're human, aren't you?" I asked her softly. "How long have you been here?"

"We all arrived here last night, but I was the third one captured." She slumped back down, leaning against her bars where I could see her. "And yes, I'm human. How about you?"

"I'm not, though I might as well be for whatever they've done to me." I noticed that everyone else was looking at me, some looking as rough as Jordan, some merely a little dirty; they all stank of fear and sorrow. "Let me guess: all of you were going out to a club?" Some of them nodded, some merely stared around themselves, unseeing. I sighed. "Does anyone know where we are?"

"I think we're still in Montana," one of the cleaner men said. "I heard a meadowlark before they hypnotized us to get us down here."

Montana, I thought frantically. What the hell am I doing in Montana? I tried to squash my rising panic, thinking over what had happened at the club before I'd been drugged. My breathing hitched, thinking about Talon. I was very much afraid they'd done something to him.

I have to get out of here, I thought, struggling again. I screamed in rage when I brushed against the bars and electricity jolted through my body. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" I screamed at the ceiling, and then whispered, "I'll kill you all."

Energy expended, I slumped over, laying my cheek against the cold concrete. I was angry, scared, upset, confused and worried about what I didn't know. I didn't know where I was, why I was there or what was going to happen. But most important of all, I didn't know what happened to Talon.

I awoke sometime later to the sounds of a large number of people talking excitedly just outside the basement door.