A flash of her current surroundings hits me – ornate gallery walls, twisted sculptures casting bizarre shadows. The sharptang of dark magic fills my nostrils as I materialize in a corridor lined with disturbing artwork. Her scent is stronger here, mingled with others – her family, Soren.
Another burst of her emotion floods through me – determination mixed with rising alarm. My fangs extend instinctively as I sense what she hasn’t yet realized: Lucien’s presence, approaching like a gathering storm.
I tear through the gallery faster now, barely registering the priceless pieces shattering in my wake. The last time I saw her, she’d thrown those words at me –“That’s what this is, isn’t it? One last roll in the hay before the big battle?”– and I’d walked away like a fool. Now, her life hangs in the balance, and I’m still too far away.
The bond between us flares with sudden intensity. She’s in the central atrium – I can feel her exact location now. My muscles coil as I prepare to shadow-jump again.
If anything happens to her…
I materialize in the gallery’s east wing, immediately cataloging the aftermath of recent fighting. Shattered glass crunches under my boots as I scan the space. Display cases lie in ruins, their contents scattered across marble floors. Scorch marks score the walls where spells went wide.
The air itself feels charged, thick with lingering magic. I recognize Kara’s signature immediately – sharp and bright like lightning. It mingles with other traces: her sister Mia’s darker energy, Soren’s vampiric shadow-magic, Rowan, and Georgia, and something else…ancient power that makes my skin prickle.
Blood spatters mark a path through the destruction – not Kara’s, thank God. The copper scent belongs to Lucien’s guards. At least three of them, from what I can tell. Smart tactical choice, taking them down quickly and moving on.
I follow Kara’s trail. Her scent leads deeper into the gallery, growing stronger with each step. She passed through hererecently, maybe ten minutes ago. The bond pulses steadily now, confirming I’m on the right track.
The security systems are down – cameras dark, motion sensors disabled. Someone knew exactly how to bypass them. Probably Soren’s work; he always did have a knack for infiltration. The team moved efficiently through here, leaving minimal trace except for the necessary confrontations.
I pause at an intersection, letting my enhanced senses guide me. West corridor shows signs of combat, but it’s a dead end. South leads to storage. The northern path… There! Another burst of Kara’s distinctive energy signature, mixed with the ozone tang of recent spellwork. I follow the trail.
The scent of dark magic grows stronger as I enter what appears to be a private showroom. I stop abruptly as I sense the wrongness here; the room pulses unnervingly. My steps echo as I approach a simple glass case in the center of the room.
Inside sits an innocuous-looking crystal sphere. To human eyes, it would appear unremarkable, but I can see the writhing darkness contained within. Purple tendrils of energy coil and twist around it like living smoke. This is old magic – the kind that demands blood sacrifice.
Turning a slow circle, I feel dread rise as I see that the walls are lined with similar cases, each housing some sort of item that oozes evil.
Damn you, Lucien. What are you doing?
And more importantly, where are the others?
I reach out with my senses, expecting to detect Evelyn Blackwood’s presence. Nothing. Instead, I catch something else – a trace of…fur? The signature is unlike anything I’ve encountered in my centuries. Not witch, not vampire, but something far more primal.
“Poppy,” I mutter, finally understanding. The squirrel familiar is bound here, not Evelyn.
But why would Lucien…?
A chill runs through me as another presence registers. One I know all too well. Lucien’s dark energy seeps into the room like poison gas, and I realize with horror that he’s already here. Has been here, waiting.
“I thought you’d be along soon.” He’s leaning against a showcase casually. He straightens now and walks toward me.
“Back for more, Marlowe?” I raise an eyebrow, although I’m taking in the space around us, registering access points, potential weapons, high ground, anything that might be useful in a fight.
“I thought I’d level the playing field, Nightshade.” Lucien chuckles, advancing on me.
“Give yourself an advantage, you mean?” I snort. “Or play dirty. You need this shit,” I jerk my head at the odd collection of objects, “to give you power, don’t you? You’re all-powerful with it. But without it…”
Lucien shrugs carelessly. “All’s fair in love and war. And there’s no love between us, so we both know what this is. War.”
“Suits me fine, fucker.”
Lucien’s smirk widens as he circles me. “I’m going to enjoy killing you, Marcus. And then…” His eyes gleam with malicious intent. “Well, let’s just say I have special plans for the Blackwood family. Especially that feisty little witch you’re so fond of.”
My fangs extend fully at the threat. “You won’t get near her.”
“No?” Dark energy simmers around him as he draws power from the artifacts surrounding us. They glow and pulse. “And who’s going to stop me? You?”
He strikes without warning, black lightning arcing toward me. I dodge, but the darkness follows, wrapping around my leg like a serpent. Pain sears through me as it burns through fabric and flesh.
