“Excellent.” Root gestured to the castle behind them. “Our instructions are clear. We’re combing the ruins, searching for signs of life. You find anything, big or small, you call it inimmediately. Understood?”
The commander waited until everyone had verbally agreed before continuing. “Good. Galebringer, you and Clearbrook will go with Kilarn. Start in the eastern corner and go from there.” He tapped a few buttons on his phone, and Nikhail’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “I’ve sent all of you a set of blueprints. Follow them, and we’ll meet in the middle.”
“Yes, sir.” A Death Elf with dark brown skin stepped out from the group that had arrived in Isobel’s SUV. Black curling horns like a ram rose above his head, and his wavy, inky hair reached his ears. Crimson whorls and swirls formed a collar around his neck, a marker of his power. The man, presumably Kilarn, was taller than Nikhail, and a bit bulkier, too.
“Ready?” Kilarn asked, a hand on the gun at his side.
Nikhail nodded, checking all his weapons and his magic one more time. “Let’s get this over with.”
The sooner they cleared the ruins, the sooner he could get back to River.
If the exteriorof Castle Sanguis spoke of death and destruction, the interior of the long-abandoned structure held the ghosts of times past.
Kilarn, who had told them his first name was Jayson on their trek inside, led their band of three. The Death Elf’s back was ramrod straight, his shoulders tense as they traversed the ancient fortress’s empty corridors.
Every door they passed was open, every room void of life.
It was unnatural in every single way.
Castle Sanguis was referred to as a ruin, but that wasn’t really the case. Powerful witches had imbued the fortress with ancient magic that prevented its decay. The hands of timehadn’t touched the stone exterior, even though the vampires had long since vacated the premises.
It felt strange, walking through these walls that once hosted life. Now, the emptiness felt foreboding.
Shivers swept down Nikhail’s spine, and he called magic to his palm. Even the winds weren’t whispering to him, as if they, too, were affected by the eeriness of his surroundings.
He followed Jayson down empty halls and through vacant rooms. They checked every corner, every piece of furniture, and every closet.
“What happened to the vampires who used to live here?” Isobel asked in a hushed whisper while they cleared yet another empty bedroom.
Once-white sheets covered in thick layers of dust were draped over furniture, sporting numerous holes where critters had chewed straight through them.
“Asleep,” Nikhail replied, his tone equally quiet.
Even though the castle was empty, and they were clearly the only living beings who’d been in these rooms for years, it didn’t feel right to speak in a normal voice. As if it would be disturbing the peace.
Nikhail’s youngest sister, Laney, had been obsessed with the vampire royals during her pre-teen years. She’d collected every history book written about the King of Darkness and his queen, read every recovered piece of correspondence between them, and even watched documentaries about the historical figures. As a result, Nikhail knew far more about the vampire couple than he would’ve otherwise.
The Last Vampire King and his wife had ushered Eleyta into a period of peace and prosperity that had been long overdue. Their reign had gone on for far longer than any other vampire monarch in history.
When the Four Kingdoms had merged into the Republic of Balance after the Great Migration, the royal vampires and many of their brethren decided to enter a magical sleep. They were not dead, not in the truest sense of the word, but after living for thousands upon thousands of years, they were tired. Ready for a break.
According to Laney’s texts, no one knew where the vampire royals and their court were sleeping. They, along with any Bound Partners they had taken along the way, were resting. Blessed by the gods, they were alive, but they didn’t require food or drink or blood. They justwere.
Isobel shivered, and she looked like she was about to say something else, when Jayson held up a hand. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide. He pointed to his ears, then out the door, and mouthed, “Did you hear that?”
Extending his senses, Nikhail released a flicker of magic from his palm. As an air fae, communicating with the wind was his birthright, and he could often hear things others couldn’t.
At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Castle Sanguis was so large that the other soldiers’ movements weren’t audible, even for his fae hearing.
He was about to shake his head when the wind carried a strange sound to his ears.
Scratch. Scratch.
It was rhythmic and getting louder.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Nikhail met Jayson’s eyes and dipped his chin, confirming that he’d heard the same sound.