“Then let’s get to it,” I say.

  I walk up to him, look up, and see the latch. I forgo the metal ladder coming out of the wall, instead, choosing to leap up and grab onto the ceiling with my claws.

  I push the hatch up, carefully, and flare my senses. There is nobody around above ground. I shove it all the way open and jump through.

  Moments after, Victoria, Smithson, and Paul join me there.

  I take stock of the surroundings. We are in the basement of some sort of industrial building. Dust and cobwebs abound.

  Nobody has been here for a very long time.

  “What is this place?” I ask.

  “An abandoned building owned by the Crusaders,” Paul replies absently. He’s peering about the room, obviously looking for something.

  “What are you trying to find?” I ask.

  He holds one hand up in a motion to wait. Then, his gaze lands on a far wall.

  I follow his gaze to find out what he’s looking at.

  Immediately, I recognize the very faint, very well hidden outline of a garage door.

  Paul approaches the wall. His hands move over the surface, looking for the switch.

  He finds it. His hand presses in. That small part of the wall shifts, and suddenly the wide door is rising.

  I’m impressed with what is found on the other side. Four heavily armored vehicles stand as if in a showroom. Around them, on the walls, are rows and rows of all sorts of guns.

  “Voila,” Paul says, motioning us inside. “Right here, exactly as needed.”

  We all walk into the room. The door closes behind us. Unlike the dilapidated basement we just left, this room is spotless. Bright lights shine down. Of course, since the light is not from the sun, it barely affects us.

  Paul steps up to a computer kiosk at the side. He punches in a password, holds his hand to the scanner. For a moment I’m not sure if he will be able to enter the system, what with the transformation and all, but that concern turns out to be unfounded as the computer screen lights up.

  “From here I have access to the whole of our facility,” he tells us, punching the keys rapidly. “Once the system verified it was me, it gave me that.”

  “What are you intending to do?” Victoria asks.

  “Inform my second in command where I am,” he says. “And tell him to keep the Crusaders in order until I return.”

  “You mean Beast,” I say flatly.

  “Yes,” Paul responds.

  Victoria gives her head a quick shake. “I don’t like him. Something about him struck me as… off.”

  “Beast has that effect on people.” Paul chuckles. “Don’t let him get to you. I would trust the man with my life.”

  “Even now, when you’re a vampire?” Smithson asks obliquely.

  For half a moment, Paul falters. He tries to hide the reaction, but I picked up on it.

  I come to his side. “Beast would kill you now, if he knew what you are,” I say.

  Paul snarls. “Yes, and that’s what makes him reliable! He holds the purpose of our organization above all else.”

  “And yet he lets your child live,” Victoria mutters. “Strange how that sort of loyalty works.”

  “Leave my daughter out of this,” Paul hisses.

  “Paul,” I say sternly. “You forget yourself. Don’t make us exert our influence over you.”

  He grinds his teeth in obvious displeasure. “Will you hold the damn hierarchy over my head forever?”

  “As long as you live, you are bound by it,” Victoria says swiftly. “In my estimation, it is a small price to pay compared to the gifts you’ve been given.”

  Paul shoots her a menacing look, but wisely holds his tongue.

  “It’s done,” he says after a moment, looking back at the screen. “Beast has received my instructions. As an added bonus, I told him to keep all our men at the compound until further notice. That means we have free rein to move about above ground.”

  He opens the driver’s side door of one vehicle and steps in. “Come on,” he says, motioning to the other trucks. “There’s enough for each of us.”

  “Oh, no,” I say. “I’m not letting you go on your own. I’ll drive. Smithson, you stay in the back with Paul. Keep an eye on him. Victoria, you can take the second vehicle if you want.”

  “If I want,” she sniffs under her breath, as she turns around and gets in.

  Paul raises his arms without protest and changes seats. “As you wish, James.”

  I climb behind the wheel. I run my hands over the hard leather.

  “Not bad at all,” I mutter.

  I put the key in, switch the engine on. The moment I do, another set of garage doors rise upward, exposing us to pure night.

  “Well, isn’t that convenient,” I say and drive into the darkness.

  Chapter Seven

  Eleira

  The Haven.

  I stalk the woods of The Haven, trailed by ten of the guards.

  I am on high alert. We are traversing every last bit of land, trying to find the screechers. I have offensive weaves ready to be unleashed at a moment’s notice: great balls of fire, more of those horizontal, deadly portals, and all sorts of other nasty surprises.

  At the same time, I have weaves ready that would erect an instant barrier around us, shielding us from their screams.

  My hunter’s instinct tells me that things are too quiet. It feels wrong. We are supposed to be stalking prey, but it feels like all we’re doing is wandering around, without aim, without purpose, waiting for an ambush by the damn things.

  It does not help that they are able to run over the earth without disturbing it one bit. They are almost like ephemeral ghosts, existing on a plane parallel to ours.

  Almost, but not quite. I’ve seen how easily they succumb to fire.

  In the back of my mind, a vague, nagging worry pesters me. Should I have left all The Haven vampires in one place, alone, to be easily attacked by the screechers?

  I know I gave them the best protection I could. The soundproof barrier will shield them from the screams. If the screechers are dumb enough to venture past the border, they will quickly be picked apart by the more vicious vampires.

  Still, after all I’ve done to ensure the safety of The Haven, it troubles me to be away from where the fight might be hardest.

  Yet that is precisely why I’m here now. To find the screechers, to destroy them all, before they can attack.

  “My Queen?” one of the guards says.

  I look back at him. “Yes?”

  “Over here, look, I think I have found something.”

  I step over to him. He’s looking at a boulder that’s been recently upturned.

  “It’s been flipped over,” he says. “But I don’t see any holes in the ground to explain why.”

  I focus my gaze on the ground. All of it looks solid enough. The same mix of dirt, rocks, leaves, as is found anywhere else.

  But then, from the corner of my eye, I catch the barest flicker.

  “Don’t move!” I exclaim, throwing my arm out in front of the guard.

  He goes totally still.

  I approach the spot warily. Carefully, I direct a thin stream of Fire at it.

  Immediately, the illusion vanishes, and a gaping hole the size of a large dining table is revealed.

  “Magic,” the guard whispers. He visibly swallows.

  “Yes,” I say. I probe at the forest with an intricate set of weaves. I don’t feel a trace of residue anywhere else. “But I am not sure of what kind.”

  “What do we do?” another guard asks. “The traps could be dotted all over The Haven.”

  “They undoubtedly are,” I say. I hesitate. “There is a possibility that the creatures all retreated.” I peek into the never-ending hole. “They could be all congregating down there, biding time until the next attack.”

  I turn away. “If that’s the case, then I want to take the offensive to them. I will not rest until The Haven is well and truly secured.

  “But… if I’m wrong, and they’re still hiding somewhere in our midst, going down would take me away from wherever I’m needed most.”

  “What do you suggest we do?” the guard asks.

  I shake my head. “We’ve been looking for them for hours. We’ve found nothing yet.”

  I take a deep breath. “I think the best thing, now, is to go back to where we left the others… and wait for the imminent attack.”

  “It’s your decision, my Queen,” the guard says.

  “I just wish there was some way to lure them to us. To coax them out of hiding.”

  “How would we do that?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “But I bet there is one person here who does.”

  “Who?”

  “Morgan.”

  ***

  We quickly make our way back to the others. I find the vampires all exactly as I left them, albeit significantly more antsy than before.

  Felix approaches the barrier, takes a look around, decides the path is clear, and takes the risk to leave the safety of the magic enclosure.

  “Finally, you’re back,” he says. “The vampires are growing restless. They don’t like feeling as if they do not have freedom to move.”

  “They know what’s out there,” I say tersely. “Left to their own devices, they stand no chance.”

  “They say the only reason they fell the first time was that they were caught unaware. They vow, to the man, that they will not let those creatures get the better of them again.”

  I bark a laugh. “Please tell me you did not encourage that.”

  Felix snorts. “Of course not. Do you not remember what I sacrificed to bring them all from the brink?”

  “I remember,” I say softly. “And they should, too.” We step inside the safety of the barrier. “They owe their existence to you.”

  “Don’t let them hear that,” he deadpans.

  I give a thin smile in reply.

  As soon as the vampires see me approach their attention falls instantly on me. One of the Royal Court Elite speaks up.

  “So? Is it done?”

  “Sadly, no,” I say. “We went around and around but could not find them. Those creatures have certain gifts that make tracking them impossible. Our senses do not catch them. They are invisible to us. And somehow, they are able to move without leaving a trace.”

  “So then, what?” another vampire demands. “We’re all to be held hostage here? The Haven was supposed to be safe after the wards were put up!”

  “This is a threat that has been festering underground for God-knows-how-long,” I say tightly. “Don’t blame the wards I made, which are impenetrable, with the failings of your past Queen. She is the one who let these creatures spawn and gather strength underground.”

  “So, then what do we do? We’re not going to be fenced in here like sheep forever!”

  “Of course not,” I bristle. “That’s why we need bait. Something to lure the screechers out—”

  “My Queen,” Geordam interrupts. I look at him. He’s pointing at the far crest.

  I follow the direction of his fingers.

  There, miles and miles away, I see a swarm of the white creatures galloping over the land.

  “Careful what you wish for,” Felix whispers in my ear, as I turn to ready myself for the horde.

  Chapter Eight

  Raul

  Beneath the mountain of the Forsaken Sisters.

  My entire body feels numb, as if it’s not quite mine but borrowed from someone else.

  I guess that sort of explanation isn’t all that far from the truth.

  I hold my arms stiff at my side as I plod on, following Phillip and the three witches. I do not trust the alliance he’s made with them. Something about it strikes me as rotten.

  At the same time, I think I have to be grateful. Were it not for them—and him—I’d be dead.

  I think I should be grateful, but I am absolutely not.

  The only thing I really feel is an all-encompassing rage, an evil sort of hatred, that boils inside me with each step I take.

  If this is the same sort of darkness that took me before, so be it.

  It is beyond time that I accept it.

  My body is numb, but my instincts are raging.

  We’ve been walking a long time in silence. Not once have any of them glanced back at me. I should be up there in the lead, but this borrowed body is not capable of overcoming them without a supreme display of effort.

  And the one thing I do not want to do is appear try-hard before the Forsaken Sisters.

  Eleira told me what they did for her—how they saved her in her time of most pressing need. For that, I was supposed to give them my blood. Not Phillip. Eleira warned me to give them the least amount needed to start the transformation. Granting greater power to three witches who have been alive, while still human, longer than I have, is asking for trouble.

  Yet Phillip has given them so much of his blood that they now surpass even me in strength!

  Gruffly, I shake my head. There is no way that should be possible. The vampire gift does not work that way.

  Yet somehow, there they are, three fledglings less than a day in the blood, holding more power than I.

  There is another sort of discomfort. My perception of their strength is… hazy. It is not the laser-sharp knowledge that I’m used to having about other vampires around me.

  It might be a manifestation of the same haziness affecting my body, I don’t know.

  Soon we reach the exit of the cave. Night is turning to day out there.

  This will not be a pleasant trek to the plane for the fledglings.

  “Wait,” the witch who I woke to find by Phillip says. She stops on the threshold, tests the air.

  She turns back to me. “The sun will harm you?” she asks.

  “It will harm all of us,” I scowl, hating the fact that she picked me out as the weakest.

  “Yes, but you in particular,” she says. She nods her head. “I see it in your eyes. You fear the rays.”

  I take an angry step toward her.

  “I fear,” I hiss, “nothing.”

  She dismisses me with a little laugh. “Maybe once that had been true, but not in your current condition.” She motions for the other witches to join her. “Come.”

  The three of them line up at the exit, looking outside.

  I tense, waiting for something to happen…

  In one coordinated move the three witches throw their arms forward. From them bursts a flame pillar—but the flame is night-black. It streams through the opening, over the valley, and far into the trees.

  It does not burn or destroy anything it touches. Trees, bushes, shrubbery, all remain intact.

  The witches plop their arms down. The pillar of flame vanishes.

  But in its wake is a long column, inside which everything is… slightly darker… than the rest of the world.

  “Now, you don’t need to worry about the sun,” the main witch says to me over her shoulder. “The residue of the rays is gone. Stay on the path and you’ll be safe. Come.”

  They walk out into the fresh air. Phillip marvels at the land before him for a moment. “Remarkable,” he mutters, and then shakes himself out of the stupor and looks at me.

  “Come on, brother. You don’t want to be late for your triumphant homecoming.”

  I growl at him in response, feeling his words fuel my hatred, but go out without a word.

  As we follow the path the witches made, the morning sun rises. I don’t even realize it until it is all the way up. The air the flame singed through is protected. The rays do not penetrate.

  The few turns we have to make before reaching the plane are preceded by another casting of that mysterious flame.

  I am pleasantly surprised when we clear the final bit of forest and the plane is revealed before us. With the way things had gone, I wouldn’t have been wholly surprised to find it missing.

  “You remember that spot?” Phillip asks, pointing to the ground. “It’s where you slapped that collar on me, and everything went to hell for you.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Just think. If only you had trusted me, we could have both gone back to The Haven with you being in control of the three new fledglings. Now, they are mine, and your well-being depends on me. Even if you wanted, you couldn’t lift a finger against me.” He grins. “Quite a turn of events, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Get out of my way, you goddamn bastard,” I mutter, elbowing past him and climbing into the plane.

  I get in the cockpit. Phillip climbs in after me.

  The three witches remain outside.

  “What is that?” one of them asks.

  I roll my eyes, annoyed at them. If I am the one who has to fly this thing, I don’t want them to be on edge around it.

  “This is an airplane,” I say slowly, holding back my irritation. “It will take us to The Haven.”

  “A teleportation device?” they ask.

  “No,” I say, unable to keep the annoyance from my voice. “A flying device.”

  “How does it work?”

  “Not through magic, I’ll tell you that. Get in.”

  Reluctantly, cautiously, they climb onboard. “This is a marvel of modern man,” I say, as I close the door and go back to the cockpit. “Take a seat in the cabin, and you’ll see how it works.”

  “Why aren’t you in command?” they ask Phillip.

  My brother shrugs. “Raul is the better pilot.”

  “This thing will take us into the air? Without magic? How?”

  “Propulsion and turbines and engines and stuff,” I mutter under my breath, slowly starting the plane.

  A few minutes later, we’re in the air. The witches get over their discomfort quickly enough. They soon start muttering in their own language, one I’ve never heard before.

  Except… it sounds suspiciously similar to the ancient language that is sometimes used to cast spells.

  Phillip joins me in the cockpit. I ignore him for as long as I can. But his presence alone, even without him saying anything, is grating.

 

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