Page 66 of Blood Prophecy


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I take point as we move through the modern art wing, my power tingling as it maps the space around us. Inadvertently, I touch the smooth stone at my throat, the obsidian not magical, but somehow, it makes me feel more secure.

Massive kinetic sculptures tower overhead, their slow rotations casting shifting shadows across our path. I hate how the moving darkness makes it impossible to tell if we’re really alone.

“Watch the glass,” I whisper, gesturing to the maze of display cases housing delicate installations. Their crystalline surfaces reflect and refract our movements, creating dozens of mirror images. I catch glimpses of our group multiplied across the room – disconcerting echoes that make my head spin.

A nearby video installation flickers, its strobing images providing convenient cover for the security cameras I spot mounted in the corners. The electronic whirr of machinery mingles with the thrum of dark energy saturating the walls.

“The sculptures,” Mom murmurs. “They’re not just art. Look at the patterns they’re creating.”

She’s right. The rotating pieces aren’t random – they’re weaving some kind of matrix across the ceiling. I study their movements, trying to decode the purpose. Protection spell? Alarm system? Something worse?

With Marlow, who knows? Maybe he just thinks that they’re pretty.

Rowan stumbles slightly, and I grab her arm before she can knock into a mirrored column. The last thing we need is shattering glass giving away our position. The reflective surfaces are everywhere, turning the gallery into a house of mirrors. Each step requires careful consideration – one wrong move could alert the entire building to our presence.

“This way.” Soren indicates a path through the installations. “The service stairs should be just past that light sculpture.”

I eye the piece he’s pointing to – a towering construction of LED strips and fiber optics that pulses with colored light. The varying intensity keeps throwing off my depth perception, making it tricky to gauge distances accurately.

Zephyra’s wind magic helps mask our footsteps as we weave between the displays, but even she can’t completely hide our reflections bouncing off every shiny surface. I focus on moving as smoothly as possible, hyperaware of how exposed we are in this artistic labyrinth.

The sharp click of boots on tiles makes us all freeze. A patrol rounds the corner – four vampires moving in perfect formation. Before I can react, Mom’s protective spells flare to life around us, a shimmering barrier springing up just as they spot us.

“Intruders!” The lead guard raises his hand, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

I launch a fireball as Zephyra’s wind amplifies the flames, turning it into a roaring inferno. The guards scatter, but Mom’s barrier curves around, herding them back into our trap. Two of them crash into a display case, sending glass shards flying.

“Mia, on your left!” I shout, seeing one vampire blur toward her.

Darkness ripples around my sister as her magic surges. The shadows under her skin writhe, threatening to break free. Her eyes start to blacken.

“Easy.” Soren’s voice is steady as he grips her shoulder. “Focus on me. Channel it, don’t let it control you.”

The darkness recedes slightly as Mia takes a shuddering breath. She directs the power outward in a controlled burst, knocking her attacker back.

Zephyra’s air shields deflect a barrage of vampire blades, the metal bouncing harmlessly against her swirling winds. Mom’s spells are everywhere – binding, protecting, strengthening our attacks.

“More coming,” Rowan warns, her face tight with concentration. “At least six, maybe more. They’re coordinating through some kind of comms link.”

I can feel the approaching vampires, too, their presence a cold weight pressing against my senses. We need to move before we’re completely surrounded.

I launch another fireball, this one aimed at the ceiling. The kinetic sculpture above shatters, raining metallic shards onto the vampires below. Their supernatural speed helps them dodge most of the debris, but it forces them to break formation.

“Now!” I shout.

Mom’s binding spell catches two vampires mid-leap. Their bodies contort as golden chains of light wrap around them.Zephyra’s wind magic picks up the fallen metal pieces, turning them into deadly projectiles that pin another vampire to the wall.

A blur of movement catches my eye – one of them trying to flank us. I spin, ready to strike, but Rowan beats me to it. Her hand shoots out, and to my shock, a burst of pure sunlight erupts from her palm. The vampire screams, his skin blistering as he stumbles back.

“Since when can you do that?” I ask, impressed despite myself.

“Less talking, more fighting,” she replies, but I catch her proud smile.

Mia steps forward, magic coiling around her hands. The shadows under her skin pulse, but this time she maintains control. With precise movements, she weaves the darkness into a net, trapping the remaining vampires. I sense the air around her, feeling the clean energy in it. No black magic. Gran will be pleased.

“We need to move,” Soren says urgently. “There will be reinforcements here any minute.”

He’s right. I can feel more cold presences approaching like ice spreading through my awareness.