Under normal circumstances, a break in the shadows would be cause for celebration, but something about the light had Nikhail’s stomach twisting.
The stairs ended, the hallway grew tighter, and the violet glow grew steadily brighter. And then, almost as if it had appeared out of nowhere, the passage opened up into a large room.
The change in scenery was so sudden that they stood in the doorway for a moment and stared at their discovery.
Two wooden tables, which could each easily seat a dozen men, were pushed together in the middle of the space. Half a dozen chairs were spread throughout the room, and stacks of paper were scattered on every surface. An empty mug sat next to a carafe, and a cream-colored woman’s cardigan was folded over the back of a chair.
There wasn’t a single speck of dust.
Nikhail stepped into the room, his eyes adjusting to the violet sheen covering the papers. Light Elf orbs rested in iron sconces on the walls, burning brightly and casting their iridescent illumination through the room.
His heart was booming so loudly, he was surprised no one else could hear it. There was a click as he released the safety of his gun, and he met Jayson’s gaze.
“You see that?” he mouthed, gesturing towards the lights.
The Death Elf nodded grimly, pulling crimson ribbons of magic from his palms. Nikhail drew on more of his power, the light confirming a suspicion he’d had since they started down the stairs.
Castle Sanguis wasn’t as abandoned as it appeared to be.
Light Elf orbs had been the vampires’ preferred form of lighting for as long as they had lived in the north. Fire was deadly to their kind, and when the castle was occupied, it would’ve been filled with the violet globes. But Light Elf magic didn’t run indefinitely. Like the wick of a candle, the orbs ran out and had to be relit.
Someone had been here recently.
Nikhail reached this bone-chilling conclusion a heartbeat before the room darkened. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and the air cooled.
Castle Sanguis had never been warm, but now it felt as though they’d been transported to the Black Sea and dumped in its inky, icy waters.
Jayson shouted a series of commands, but it was too late.
A blanket of darkness fell, smothering the light as if it had never existed.
A sharp, ominous cackle came from behind him, robbing his lungs of breath. Wings snapped out on his right.
“I’m sending a distress call!” Jayson yelled. “How many, Galebringer?”
Releasing the magic he’d gathered in his palm, Nikhail sent it out in a wave. He turned, facing the darkness as the wind returned to him, whispering in his ear.
“Seven!” he shouted, gathering more magic in his palm and swapping his gun for one of the stakes strapped to his chest. “Seven vampires.” As if the shadows weren’t enough confirmation, he could tell by their slow heartbeats. “Aim for the heart or remove their heads, nothing less will kill them?—”
A blow landed in his middle, and his last words were little more than gasps. The powerful punch sent him flying, and he tightened his grip on the stake as he slammed into the wall. Stones crumbled, dust falling on him.
There was no time for pain.
Groaning, he clambered to his feet and sent out a wave of powerful magic towards his shadowy attacker.
All around him, the sounds of a brutal fight filled the air. Shouts. The flapping of wings. A gunshot. A roar. An agonized scream.
Death Elf magic sliced through the darkness. The sharp red ribbons illuminated the scene for a moment. The vampires were dressed in black, but the light disappeared before Nikhail could see their faces.
He sent out wave after wave of his magic, letting the wind guide his movements.
Ahead of you,said the wind in its ancient voice.Move.
He obeyed without thought, ducking. His sleeve fluttered as a vampire raced by.
Behind you.
Nikhail turned and kicked, a grunt confirming that his foot had made purchase. There was no time to think about what was happening, no time to panic. The vampires were strong opponents, and they had them outnumbered.