The Vampire Gift 8: Shadows of Mist

“April,” I say, taking her elbow. “Come here a moment with me.”

I lead her to a secluded corner of the vast space, far from everybody else. The show of physically moving her should be enough for the others to be smart enough not to try eavesdropping.

“Tell me what happened after I left,” I say.

She glares at me. “That’s all you have to say, James?” she spits. “Tell me what happened? As if I’m not a living person, as if you don’t care if I’m alive or not!”

“Of course, I care,” I snap. “But it looks to me you’ve clung on to a new protector.”

Her face screws up. “Paulo? You’re jealous of Paolo?”

“Don’t be so vain,” I say. “Not everything in this world revolves around you. You can have eyes for whomever the hell you want, I don’t care. What I do care about—” I squeeze her arm, “—is getting an account from you of what happened in the motel.”

“Not even a single, I’m glad you’re safe,” she mumbles under her breath. “Fine, James. I know how it is with you. You only care about what happens to me when it’s convenient for you. Or are you disappointed it was your precious Liana who succumbed instead?”

A rush of anger fills me. I have half a mind to slap her.

Instead, I let go of her arm very, very deliberately, and stress, “Tell me. What happened. In the motel.”

She rolls her eyes and quickly explains the ambush, the bullets, the squad that came for them.

“You said something woke you,” I say when she’s done. “It’s what let you survive. That’s mighty fine luck you have there, April.”

“You don’t believe me?” she challenges. “Paolo also survived. Why aren’t you interrogating him?”

“Maybe I will,” I say. I turn around and call the other vampire over.

Grudgingly, he comes to us, not wanting to leave Paul unattended.

At the very least, I have Smithson watching over the Crusader leader.

“Well?” I say to Paolo when he arrives. “April tells me she just so happened to be pulled out of her slumber at just the right time to avoid being killed.”

“Yes,” Paolo agrees. “She was blessed by the Divine Sight. I told you already.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” I say.

“You weren’t listening at the fire.”

“I was listening but preoccupied.” I’m getting irritated with him. “Tell me what it is. Now.”

“The Divine Sight,” he repeats, “is a sort of premonition that warns a vampire when he is in grave danger. It is one of the vampire gifts—you have truly not heard of it?”

“No,” I say, putting my weight on one leg and casting a suspicious glance at April.

“It must not be in your mythology. All the vampires of the pack knew about it.”

“Must be a Canadian thing,” I quip. “But you tell me you were both awakened by it? Why did neither of you think to alert the others?”

Paolo shoots me a nasty look. “Trust me, James. I ask myself that every waking moment. How would you feel if you lost everyone you knew, all the vampires you grew up with, all the ones you bonded with, at the hands of some humans?”

He’s getting heated up. I raise my arms to show him it’s okay.

“I’m not blaming you,” I say evenly. “I’m just trying to understand how exactly the two of you survived when nobody else did.”

“That’s how,” Paolo says. “April and I were meant to live. And that, in and of itself, means we have some higher purpose.”

“Maybe.” I purse my lips. “Have you ever benefited from the Divine Sight before?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Have any of the vampires you knew?”

He hesitates… then answers slowly.

“Chandler did,” he says. “When we told you before that Cierra communicated with him in the Dream Realm…?” He clears his throat, hesitating, then makes his decision.

“That wasn’t the whole truth. Chandler was gifted with the Divine Sight just before Smithson’s men came to extract the witch. It told him not to interfere.”

“Wait. Are you telling me she did not want to be taken?”

Paolo slowly shakes his head and looks away.

“It was a secret all of us swore to take to our graves. Seeing as how I’m the only one left,” he shrugs. “I figure it’s better for you to know the truth.”

“No shit, it’s better,” I mutter. “Does Smithson know?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then we have to tell him. This changes everything we knew about Cierra.” I start for The Haven’s former Captain Commander, stop, then turn around.

“Wait,” I say. “What exactly did the Divine Sight show Chandler?”

“He said that if we interfered, great calamity would strike.”

“What about that door?” I ask. “If you know how to get through that door, you have to tell me now.”

He shakes his head. “Alas, that is a secret that died with Chandler. In fact, I am not sure if he even knew how to get in.”

“So, what, it was all a show? Some sort of perverted charade? Your pack failed its promise to Cierra, and then you went into hiding in the cavern by her lair?”

“We weren’t hiding,” he hisses. “We were waiting for her return.”

“You missed it,” I grunt. “She lured me out, and that’s when I struck the damned deal with her.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “She drew you out… as the pack alpha.”

“How would she know that?” I challenge.

“It is not up to the likes of me to question the Great Sorceress.”

I freeze. “What did you call her?”

He gives a sudden stop, then coughs.

“I misspoke. The Black Sorceress.”

I step toward him. “That’s not what you said a moment ago.”

“Well, what does it matter, anyway?” he explodes. “She is the most powerful. That makes her great.”

“We’ll see,” I mutter softly. I cast a furtive look at April. She appears just as surprised.

“Let’s go to Smithson,” I say. “He needs to know about this.”

But when we arrive, Paul steps back from the computer and announces, “It is done!”

He hits a button, and the circling engraving starts buzzing around the orb, leaving a very fine pattern in its wake.

A few minutes later, the entire obsidian stone is covered in tiny, sprawling runes. Paul moves forward to take it out. Smithson steps in his way and says, “Allow me.”

Paul glares at him but defers to the stronger vampire.

Smithson examines the markings carefully, then brings the obsidian orb to Victoria.

“It might work,” he says.

She sniffs, fully skeptical.

Meanwhile, Paul puts the second orb into the machine. He steps back, goes to his computer, and hits the same button to make it start.

The robotic arm whizzes around, making a similar set of markings over the second stone.

Once it’s done, Paul goes to take it. When Smithson tries to interfere, he says, “No. This part is dangerous.”

He picks up the second orb and holds it very carefully. I taste the air for anything different.

All of it feels the same.

Paul walks to an arm of the room that’s been cleared of everything else. There is a bare space about fifteen yards in diameter that he has previously marked off.

He turns the sphere around in his hands, very, very carefully, searching for the right mark. He finds it and then sets the orb on the edge of the cleared space.

“Victoria,” he says. “Bring the other one here, and set it down opposite me, if you will.”

She looks at me for permission, which I give with a small nod. “Go on.”

She takes the second obsidian orb from Smithson and walks it over. “Do I need to position it properly, or…?”

“Just put it down,” Paul says. “Its energy will do the rest.”

She gives him one more disbelieving look, and then sets it down.

We all wait.

Nothing happens, at first. But then, very, very slowly, Paul’s orb starts to vibrate. It comes on so softly that for the first few moments I do not believe it’s real.

All of a sudden, there’s a powerful flash of light. It’s enough to blind me for a moment. When I look back, Victoria’s orb has snapped into position, and between the two objects is a space coated in blue.

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