Which it does, I remind myself firmly.
The only way to get out of this alive is to get out quickly. The longer I stay here, the worse all of this is going to get.
“Thank you,” I say to Rome, shifting awkwardly. The fire inside me is down to its last embers now. If I can just get out of this room without touching him again, I should be able to put it out entirely. He nods his head to me in an almost gentlemanly sort of way and holds out an elbow.
“Let me take you back to the dining hall.” Another look of irritation and anger darkens his features. “James never has let a tribute finish their meal.”
I thank him again, wishing I had invested some of my education into learning how to make small talk. All I want to do is slip away from him, but I’m starting to understand the way things work around here. From the dining hall to the female tribute quarters, I’m free to move around. Anywhere else, I should have an escort.
So I let Rome take me back to the great hall. Once we’re there, I wait until his back is turned to slip away. I don’t really feel like going back to sit down with the other girls and facing a bombardment of questions. Given how unsettled my emotions are right now, I’m sure I’d end up saying something I couldn’t take back. Knowing me, it would be something way out of the character I’m supposed to be playing, something snarky and harsh—an overcompensation for the conflict brewing inside me.
There’s really only one way to handle this.
The vampire palace and everyone in it is throwing me off balance, fucking with me, unraveling me. And the only way to stop that is to get out.
I have to make headway on the next part of my rescue plan. I have to find a way out, and I have to do it now.
As I creep away from the dining hall, I see other tributes wandering around unattended. They all have the same glossed-over look on their faces, and it sends a shudder down my spine. Some of them grant me a dreamy smile as they pass, but their eyes don’t quite focus when they look at me. It occurs to me that I’ve been doing this all wrong, trying to creep around when the vampires are sleeping—because when they’re awake, they’re busy feeding on tributes and apparently just dumping them wherever and letting them find their own way back.
Which is shitty of the vamps, but excellent for me. It gives me an easy way to blend in and not draw attention.
I try the look on as I gaze at my reflection in a small mirror hanging on a corridor wall. Vacant, unfocused eyes. Dreamy smile. Limp, listless arms. Loose legs. Looks like I just got fucked hard and put up wet.
Good.
A shiver runs through me as the memory of Rome’s touch fills my senses, but I don’t force it back like I usually would. That’s the feeling, right there. That’s the authenticity I need to get away with this.
I begin a spiral search pattern, looking for any weaknesses in the defenses. I’ve done plenty of recon on their lair from above ground, so I slowly start connecting what I’ve seen on the surface to what I’m now glimpsing below.
I finally figure out where all those smoke stacks on the surface are coming from—it’s the vampires’ various industries. Kitchens and smitheries and things I can’t even guess at, nor do I want to. I wander into the kitchen at one point with that idiot smile plastered on my face and look up one of the pipes. It’s at least forty feet tall, but only about fourteen inches across.
A tight fit, but not impossible. The problem is that down here, near the stoves and ovens, it’s hot enough to make waves in the air around it—not to mention the crisscrossing metal grates every five feet or so. That’s one hope dashed.
“Come on, girl. Out with you. You’re not allowed in here.”
The head cook chases me out of the kitchen with more patience than I would’ve expected, muttering about bubble-headed tributes, and I wander away.
Guards are posted at every intersection during the day, and they wander around their designated areas, always alert. Some of them snicker as I stumble by, giving each other looks I would expect to see on middle-school boys. Jesus. I guess being immortal means you never have to grow up.
Eventually, on one of my not-so-random wrong turns, I discover where the deliveries come in. It’s a set of stairs a lot like the ones we came down when we were first brought into the palace, and at least half a dozen guards patrol the hallways around it. If I could ambush the guards, I might be able to use that as an escape route, but it’d be dicey.
That’s about as far as I’m able to get before dinner. I don’t even realize how much time has passed until Anastasyia finds me in the hallway and snags my elbow, pulling me after her. I quickly realize that she’s rounding all of the tributes up like a mother hen, and I hurry through the corridors after her as she gathers the pack of girls.
Jessica slips up beside me, her hazel eyes wide as she nudges me with her elbow.
“Where were you?” she asks. “I thought that horrible James killed you.”
I shudder. “No, he didn’t . But not for lack of trying. Lack of skill, maybe.”
She lets out a short, humorless laugh, but then her expression sobers. “He could bond with you, you
