Free Changeling: Zombie Dawn by Steve Feasey

band of metal, like a waist belt, was fastened around his abdomen, and it was to this that his wrists were handcuffed. Bound in this way, he was forced to shuffle on his side away from the pool of filth, every movement resulting in a knifing pain in his head that caused him to groan and whimper. Trey wished he were back in that black void. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a small, tight ball and allow the darkness to return, but he resisted the urge, taking a deep breath and tipping his head backwards instead, straining to see what he could. The workshop was dark, but Trey thought he could sense somebody in the shadows watching him. He shifted his weight, throwing his hips up and over – the terrible, harsh racket of the chains crashing into each other and the floor filled the place for a moment – so he was lying face down. The concrete floor beneath him was black with car oil that had been spilt over it through the years, and the smell of it filled his nostrils. At least it was better than the puke. He bucked his body and somehow succeeded in getting his knees beneath him. The metal girdle about his waist had two chains snaking out from either side of it, and these were fixed on short chains to the hoops in the floor he’d seen when he first entered this place. The set-up meant there was no way that he could get fully to his feet, and he was forced to kneel with his arms by his sides.
    ‘I’d try and stay still for a while yet if I were you,’ Ella said, stepping out of the gloom and approaching him. ‘I might have got the dosage of that sedative a bit wrong.’ She was swapping something between her hands, pouring it from one to the other like grains of sand. Except it wasn’t sand. The dull silver colour of the chain caught Trey’s eye, and he knew without needing to look down towards his own chest that she’d removed the amulet he wore round his neck.
    Ella followed the direction of his gaze and smiled. ‘I didn’t want you just morphing into that wolf-man creature you become with this thing on and undoing all of my efforts to get you here.’
    ‘What’s going on?’ Trey said, swallowing hard to try and moisten his dry and sore throat. ‘Why have you brought me here like this?’
    ‘Would you like some water?’
    Trey glared back at her.
    ‘It’s for your own safety, Trey. You’ll thank me for this one day.’
    Trey lowered his head and studied the floor between his knees, trying to make some sense of what she was saying. ‘I don’t know what’s up with you, Ella, but you’d better unlock me from these chains and let me out of here. You have no idea what is going on in this world right now, because if you did, you’d know that I can’t be here. I need to get back to Lucien and—’
    ‘And what, Trey? Hmm? What is so important about your vampire friend that you’re willing to sacrifice your life for him? The fight between him and his lunatic brother is not your fight, Trey. Let the vampires tear each other apart. Let Caliban take over the human realm and subjugate everyone on it. What does that have to do with you and me and our kind?’ She looked down at him, shaking her head. ‘You’re not human. You’re a lycanthrope just like me. And whatever they’ve told you about your duty or your . . . destiny, well, it’s all lies!’
    Trey struggled to take in everything he was hearing. The waves of pain and nausea made it difficult for him to concentrate, and he frowned as he tried to put together what he’d just heard. Ella knew about the forthcoming attack by Caliban. It occurred to him that she might be working for the vampire, but he quickly dismissed the idea. He would already be dead if that were the case. No, she must have found out about it from another source – perhaps she had a contact inside Lucien’s organization, somebody she’d befriended so that she could find things out about Trey. He shook his head, realizing that it didn’t matter how she’d found out. What