Forbidden (The Preternaturals) by Zoe Winters

Author:Zoe Winters [Winters, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: IncuBooks
Published: 2014-05-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Angeline had lost track of how long she’d been locked in the black room. Time didn’t seem to exist here as there was no way to mark it. It had definitely been longer than hours. Days? Weeks? Months? Those words felt meaningless. Everything was meaningless. The only true sense she had of the length of time she’d been here was how weak and tired she felt, the result of a lack of light, being shut up in this darkness so long. It wouldn’t show on her body, but it would show in her eyes.

She’d thought Rodolfo would arrive soon after Kurt had left her. She’d hoped she could reason with him, pray for mercy and hope to be given one more chance to be good.

The voices had started calling for the destruction of her soul. And it hardly seemed to matter. She’d lost the will to fight their constant accusations.

It hadn’t taken long for the voices to move beyond verbal taunts. The glass walls had transformed into screens, projecting stark images of her life as a vampire with Linus. All her crimes repeated without end. And when she closed her eyes to make it stop, the voices screamed at her, swearing they would give her the final death for her refusal to watch.

Even the terrible things Linus did to her were twisted to make it seem as if somehow they were all her fault. Everything was her fault. The rest of the world was virtuous and happy and at peace without her existence messing things up. The world didn’t need her to ruffle the fabric of existence with her tainted soul.

Then they’d shown her Hadrian, her obsession with him, giving him her blood.

“Abomination!” they’d shrieked at her. Hundreds of voices overlapping with that single accusation and taunt.

The door swung open, and Angeline looked up, moving her hands from her face. She’d crouched in a corner of the black room to shield herself from the constant onslaught of their mental torture and cruelty.

“Angeline,” Rodolfo said.

He pulled out a remote, and she cringed away, afraid it was something meant to hurt her, but one of the walls simply opened and pushed out a platform with a desk and two chairs. The senior angel settled in one of the chairs and extended a hand to the other, his face mild.

“Sit, and let’s talk,” he said.

She slunk to the small straight-backed chair he indicated. Her limbs were sore and tired from no light and from being crunched in such a small ball to try to disappear away from them.

“H-how long have I been in here?” she asked, fearing it had to be years or decades. If she was ever allowed out of here, she would never be the same. They’d broken her into small pieces. She was sure nothing could form those pieces back into a single whole.

“Two days,” he said.

Two days? Two days. She’d marked the time when her friend had been kept in the black room. It had been four weeks. What could they have thought to do in four weeks? What more was coming?

“P-please let me out.

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