of course the sun never goes down, so you can’t see them as well.
Not…romantic.” He smiled at her, again, slowly this time, and Elena
looked away.
And in looking, she saw something in front of her that captured her
entire attention. In a side street a cart had overturned, spilling large rolls
made out of fur and leather. There was a thin, hungry-looking old
woman attached to the cart like a beast, who was lying on the ground,
and a tall angry man standing over her, raining down blows with a whip
on her unprotected body.
The woman’s face was turned toward Elena. It was contorted in a
grimace of anguish, as she tried ineffectually to roll into a ball, her hands
over her stomach. She was naked from the waist up, but as the whip
lashed into her flesh, her body from throat to waist was being covered by
a coating of blood.
Elena felt herself swelling with Wing Powers, but somehow none
would come. She willed with all her circulating life-force for
something—anything—to break free from her shoulders, but it was no
good. Maybe it had something to do with wearing the remains of slave
bracelets. Maybe it was Damon, beside her, telling her in a forceful
voice not to get involved.
To Elena, his words were no more than punctuation to the
heartbeat pounding in her ears. She jerked the rope sharply out of his