Quickening my pace, scanning constantly, I finished crossing the room, emerging into a round area with two hallways leading away, one off to the right, and the other mostly straight ahead, both cloaked in shadow. A painting of a boat hung next to a closed doorway on my left, and a short column supporting a vase of flowers stood just inside the hallway to the right.
I licked my lips, knowing time was limited.
If I stayed straight, I would be heading deeper into the house, toward the side that (I was pretty sure) pushed up against the neighbor’s house. My only chance for escape would be the possibility of servants’ stairs.
The hallway leading right would eventually take me to a wall with windows that led to the outside world. Of course, I was on the second floor, and jumping to my death was not on my agenda.
The only other option was back the way I had come.
I looked behind me.
In the middle of the room I’d just crossed stood a single newbie vampire, a line of spit hanging from its mouth. Its gnarly claws clicked off each other, glistening in the low light.
“Butterballs.” I couldn’t go back.
I had to choose. Two options, and the wrong one might get me killed.
12
Emery stood at the top of a cliff in the Realm, watching magical creatures of all kinds zip past him on the fast-track paths. The elves had set up the system of paths, which magically sped up travel from point A to B, allowing magical creatures to travel through the Realm at high speeds.
Emery sank to the ground and tucked his legs under him, content to watch all the species sail past.
A faerie giggled as she or he—it was hard to tell the fair folk apart from a distance—drifted past. Purple magical dust sparkled and swirled behind her or him, washing into the eyes of a sylph, a species of notoriously ill-tempered air sprites about half the height of humans. The sylph waved his hand in front of him in annoyance, trying to wash away the magical dust before sliding to the side.
Emery let his gaze drift up to take in the other flying creatures, but a cloud of black mist rushed in to disrupt the scene. He went on edge immediately, ready for the premonition that would tell him from which direction the danger would come.
Penny’s beautiful face came into view. Her luminous blue eyes held blind terror and sweat beaded her forehead. She stood at the mouth of a darkened corridor in what looked like a well-appointed house. An oil painting of a small boat in turbulent sunset seas hung on a wall to the left, and a small column to the right held a large vase full of flowers.
If she went down that corridor, she would die. He felt it as clearly as he did the dirt under his suddenly clawed fingertips.
Throat constricting in panic, he scrambled to his feet. But what could he do? He was worlds away, literally. If he took the absolute fastest route back, it would still take him a week or more. That, and the fastest route through the Brink would put him on display. Considering how easily the Guild had tracked him so far, they’d catch sight of him in no time, and he’d essentially lead a hostile army to Penny’s door.
A sick feeling twisted his gut.
He’d told himself he had to leave, that she’d be better off without him, but he’d walked away and left her in danger. He’d all but put her on display for the Guild, then abandoned her.
He shoved away the guilt, trying to think rationally. Trying to use logic.
She was extremely valuable. The Guild wouldn’t kill her. Neither would Darius. They would protect her and try to use her to further their own ends.
So why had his foresight kicked in?
Because trying to control Penny was like trying to keep a candle flame lit when running in the wind. Getting into trouble was as natural for her as breathing, no matter how much the people around her wanted to keep her safe. The best thing to do was stick by her side and run with her through the middle of chaos. Try to be on her team, letting her lead as often as she followed, and hold on for dear life.
He’d barely had any time with her, but he’d learned that much. And using that method, they’d made it through impossible odds.
He paced, waiting for another premonition. Wondering if he would somehow feel it if something happened to her.
His head said not to go to her right then. It said to stay apart from her and force the Guild to split their resources. Logic dictated that one of the most strategic, powerful, and ruthless vampires alive would not let one of his prized assets fall into irreparable harm. If Emery had to trust one vampire, it would be Darius. In all of their dealings, he’d learned that Darius’s strict code kept him largely predicable and trustworthy…for a vampire.
Emery bit his lip.
It was that last part that threatened to unravel that line of thinking.
For a vampire.
That wasn’t saying a whole helluva lot.
The black mist drifted in again.
13
Heart hammering, knowing I should turn and fight rather than run, I jogged toward the hallway on the right and peered down it. The old-fashioned electric candles bracketed to the wall were turned down low, and dark shadows lined the walls and pooled along the ground. There were doors on either side, probably bedrooms. The sweet smell of flowers from the column on my right tickled my nose, helping to calm the magic gathered above me. Even so, the picture up on my left felt like a perfect representation of my mood. A small boat rolling amidst crashing waves, its passengers wondering if this was the end.
It won’t be the end.
It couldn’t be. I couldn’t die before I got to slap Emery in the face for failing to meet my expectations. I didn’t even care if it wasn’t his fault; he’d still get a slap.
And Darius needed that punch in the kisser.
But as I stood in the archway of that hallway, the hard clicks of nails on wooden floor of my newbie pursuer getting ever nearer, joined now by other clicks from other pursuers, I couldn’t seem to will myself forward. Vampire magic hung heavy in the air like a fog, hot and sticky. The vampire lurked in these walls somewhere. Not Darius and not a newbie.
A soft hiss invaded my decision-making. The clicks stopped, so damn close.
A glance back and I started.
The newbie vampire stood in the archway behind me, braced and ready to attack, claws out.
“Fickle blanket weavers.” Adrenaline dumped into my body.
I spun and launched forward, readying a spell to toss behind me as I went. Movement registered in my peripheral vision before I could even gasp. Strong fingers wrapped around my forearm and yanked me back.
“No,” I heard, low and urgent.
Magic swirled through my fingertips as I came to a stop, facing Mr. Devilishly Handsome Vampire.
Electricity surged around me, charging my skin before pumping into Darius’s hand and arm. A bug zapper sound preceded him flinching away, and I jumped to the side, my hands already up and weaving a spell. The act strangely felt like knitting, and a stray thought curled away—I wondered if that was why my mother had taken up knitting (before failing at it and stabbing the couch in frustration).
Darius stood in front of me, his hair standing on end and his hands fisted at his side. He looked like he’d just stuck his finger in a light socket.
His hard hazel eyes beat into my head. “No,” he said, and despite his hair issue, his voice came out calm and unaffected. “Do not go that way.”
I glanced down the dark hallway before looking back at the room from which I’d come. The green monster stood frozen in place, looking at me with bunched muscles and thick cords of drool falling from its mouth.
“Why should I trust you?” I whispered.
“I am training you, not trying to kill you,” he said, unconcerned about the newbie vampire panting in the doorway behind him.
“You didn’t do a lot when that other one had its fangs on my neck.”
“I was about to step in when you handled the situation beautifully. I would love to leave you alone and see what new surprises you have in store, but you are exuding a lot of magic right now. Strong, powerful magic. Helpful in keeping weaker creatures at bay, yes, but I worry it might awaken aggressive urges in the elder residing down that hall. I am not sure I could defeat her should she decide to engage, so I would rather not take the chance.”
There was a lot to unpack in that speech, like his belief that my magic would keep weaker creatures at bay when they were still clearly chasing me through the house. Or how my anger toward him softened just a bit from knowing he’d kept an eye on me this whole time. Or the absolute terror of imagining a vampire capable of intimidating him.
Hard clicks sounded, and I tore my focus away from Darius and shifted it to the newbie vamp edging closer. A strange sort of growl preceded a glob of drool dropping from its mouth.
“That must destroy the rugs,” I mumbled.
Another vampire waited behind the first, impatiently shifting.
Darius barely moved, his head turning just slightly, and a wave of his spicy magic filled the space. The closest vampire stopped where it was, but the one behind it scooted up so they were clustered again. Their bloodlust was rising; I could feel it in the dizzied magic mingling with mine. With Darius’s.
My mind whirled, back to wondering if I could trust him, or if he’d purposely stopped me from escaping.
“Why would you let such a powerful creature hang out in your house?” I asked, watching his face for signs of lying. “Especially when you invited me over?”