The Vampire Gift 8: Shadows of Mist

With a deep breath, I do as he asks.

When I do, I realize the orb is not all black. Tiny, dark red marks mar the surface, smaller even than capillaries but definitely there. They seem to pulse with every full rotation of the orb.

“That is what the outside torrials are feeding their magic into. I suspected it all along, but we had to come here to confirm it.”

“What is it?” I ask again.

Riyu looks up at me. “You truly don’t know?”

I shake my head.

“It is the vampiric essence, solidified and made real by demon blood. It is the vampiric essence, strengthened by the most potent blood in existence. It is the vampiric essence, transformed into something much, much worse.”

Suddenly, the sheet loses its transparency and the vision is lost.

“Damn,” Riyu mutters. “It slipped out of my control. I can try again…”

“No, no,” I say. “That’s fine. I saw enough.”

What I didn’t tell him is that I felt, in my heart of hearts, the most pure, vicious, darkest sort of evil emanating from that orb.

An evil much deeper, much more distorted, much more frightening, than the worst of the darkness contained in any living vampire.

Immediately, I get a great urge to return to the physical realm and destroy her. Kill Morgan, eviscerate her with fire, so that the evil does not spread.

But the moment I think those thoughts, the skin on my body tightens, reminding me of the unbreakable oath I made.

Frustrated, angered, I spin around. “Take us back, Riyu,” I command. “We’ve wasted enough time here.”

Even though I know that no time at all has passed outside, I want to get out of this place, away from that core of evil, as soon as I can.

“Very well,” he says. “Get ready for one hell of a ride.”

Suddenly, he disappears, just like that. I hardly have time to comprehend it before I’m sucked back into my body and then spin through an enormous vortex.

The world goes black. I know I’m back in my physical self, but my soul is reeling. Bright lights flash at random, breaking up the black. I spin and spin, not knowing which way is up, which way is down. That all-consuming cold envelops me, and I’m helpless to do anything about it. I spin and spin, feeling myself lengthened, shortened, expanded, crushed…

Without warning, I crash fully into myself and stagger back, away from Riyu, as if I’d been burned.

He opens his eyes a second later. He sees the look on my face.

“It’s not a pleasant journey,” he says knowingly. “The good news is that each time it feels a little different. You never know which of your sensations the trip will trigger.”

“How is that a good thing?” I almost scream, obviously still reeling.

Riyu’s eyebrows go up in surprise. I scold myself, reminding me who I am and quickly pulling together a mask of composure.

“I need to see Morgan,” I say, and start over to her resting place, then fling the cover off.

I half-expect to see the black orb in her chest.

Thankfully, it remains a feature of the other plane.

“Now that you realize how dangerous she is,” Riyu tells me, “why do you let her live?”

“The Forsaken Sisters,” I mumble under my breath. I look at Morgan’s hideous face, shudder, and cast the sheet back over her.

Then I turn my attention to Riyu.

“You know what’s happening above us,” I say. “We face impossible odds. None of the vampires are any use against the screechers. It is only you and I who can do anything against them.”

“Whatever you require, I will do, to the best of my abilities,” he promises.

“I’m taking the vampires underground,” I say. “I cast an inverted spell that will make it seem to the Tentoria up top that we are all still there. We go beneath the earth, and I will erect more protective wards for The Haven’s members, then you and I, together, will go hunt.”

Riyu bows deeply. “It will be an honor, my Queen.”





Chapter Thirteen


James

Near the Crusaders’ Facility.



“James, this is lunacy, and you know it.”

I look back at Victoria, who sounds absolutely sincere.

“You cannot go back to The Crypts,” she continues. “Logan won’t just imprison you. He will kill you!”

“He’s had a chance to do that before,” I say.

“He gave you another chance, yes, but you betrayed him.” She tugs on my arm. “He does not forgive things like that.”

I pull away. “He is my Father,” I tell her. “Blood still means something.”

“You think The Crypts will be your great fortress,” she says. “You think the presence of thousands of their vampires will stop Cierra. But you don’t truly believe it. In fact, you know it’s not true.”

“Then WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO?” I roar, anger flaring.

All the other vampires in the command center whip their heads our way. “What the hell are you looking at?” I bark. I direct a strong pulse of vampiric influence their way.

It hits, and they go sprawling. Each of the vampires flies back as if hit with a physical force.

“James!” Victoria exclaims. “You used magic!”

My blood is pumping, my heart is pounding, and I feel an incredible pressure just behind my eyes. I barely hear Victoria, instead being consumed by the overwhelming anger I feel.

I take a step toward the fallen vampires. I glare at them, feeling my hatred consume me. Paul, groveling there, responsible for the death of so many of those who were under my protection. Smithson, that traitorous bastard, who I can never trust. Paolo and April, who now look to my eyes as if they’re a pair, lying there, mocking me by falling for each other instead of April falling for me.

I feel another wave of anger wash over me. The pressure behind my eyes builds, until I can no longer take it.

The vehicles between me and them explode in flames.

I give a start and crash back into myself. The vehicles—I was looking right at them when they went up in smoke. And in that moment, I felt a temporary relief of pressure…

“James!” Victoria exclaims. “James, get hold of yourself!”

I rub my eyes, then slowly turn to the short blond spitfire.

She gasps when she looks at me. “Your eyes,” she says. “They’re coated with the miasma.”

“To hell with the miasma,” I snarl. Over my shoulder, without looking at the others, I call, “Is everybody all right?”

I take the silence that follows more as a measure of their discomfort than disrespect.

“Somebody put those flames out,” I say. “I need to think.”

I stalk over to a private room, walk in, and slam the door.

There is a window on one wall looking out at the main floor. It is mirrored on the other side. I watch as Paul and Smithson and Paolo and April scramble to put out the fire.

The fire I caused.

I look at my hands. I let my claws come out, examine them, then draw them in. I trace my tongue over my upper row of teeth, feeling the fangs, sharp and deadly.

I catch my reflection in the glass. Dark specks are swirling in my eyes.

I blink and bring my head closer. Now my eyes are absolutely clear. Nothing is marring them.

I smack my head, turn around, and look around the small room.

It’s little more than a closet. There is a single chair on wheels is in the middle of the opposite wall.

I take stock of myself. My mind is clear. The raging emotions have been quenched.

I turn to my reflection again. I look at the vampire in the window.

“You have magic inside of you,” I say.

I close my eyes, start to focus, try to replicate that pressure that had built behind my eyes…

I can’t. I can’t do it. Whatever the force is, I cannot access it consciously.

The magic inside me, the magic I so desperately need if I am to stand a chance of living past my next encounter with Cierra, remains fiercely locked.

Victoria is right. Going to The Crypts is a horrible idea. But where else can I find protection? All the men of the Order and the Crusaders combined won’t be worth anything against Cierra. She will slip by them without any effort and find me no matter what.

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