S: Lilith. Let me know you’re okay.
I stare at my phone, willing her to message and praying she will. Nothing. I move, not wanting to waste another minute. I grab my blade, sliding it behind the back of my jeans and move silently and quickly through the bed and breakfast. Leaving my bike, I choose to walk, quieter, safer, deadlier. Within minutes, I’m in front of the main entrance to Velmora, sticking close to the shadows, keeping unseen. I check my cell one last time before I act. Still nothing.
I send out one text, a vital text. My backup.
S: Something’s wrong. I left my cell in the long grass along the edge of the stone wall. Room 15. Bed and Breakfast in the nearby town. Bikes outside.
I click send, then switch my phone to silent, leaving it on so they can trace it. I stand straight, push my shoulders back and brace. There is only one way to get inside and get my brother’s attention. I walk up to the winding gravelled road to the front entrance. Standing before the huge doors. I wrap my fist on them three times as hard as I can, the sound echoing all aroundthe mountains that surround us. Anticipation, anger and dread swirl around my stomach. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. As the door slowly opens, my hand is behind my back, gripping, ready and poised on the blade. I enter, my eyes darting everywhere, looking for the threat, for him. For Lilith. A figure moves from the shadows, their body frail, almost dead as they shuffle towards me. Their eyes were void of any emotion, drool hanging from their mouths. A Velmora Vessel, nothing could have ever prepared me for seeing one. “Where is he?” I demand. My voice is firm and void of fear.
They don’t say anything; they simply turn and shuffle ahead through a long corridor. I reluctantly follow. Never releasing my hold on the dagger. Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a pair of double doors and gestures for me to enter. I hesitantly walk in, and a huge ballroom fills the space. Black marble flooring; blood-red drapes hang over the tall windows. Large pillar candles light the dimly lit room, casting a dark gothic ambience.
“Well, well. Brother. To what do I owe the honour?” Morbius greets, stepping out from the shadows.
My blood boils at the sight of him. “Where is she?” I seethe through gritted teeth.
His eyes spark with sadistic amusement. “Ah, of course. You came for her. Why else would you visit me? Your only blood relative.”
“The blood bond we share is the only thing stopping me from destroying you,” I bite back.
He places his hand on his heart. “Aww,” he mocks. “You say the sweetest thing.” He steps closer, placing his hands behind his back. “So, would you like a tour? I’ve worked really hard to get this place up to scratch. The last owners were so. So old-fashioned,” he sighs.
“Enough with the fucking games, Morbius. Where is she?!” I snap, my patience wearing thin.
He cocks his head to the side, assessing me. “You will see her in good time, brother. Don’t you worry. She is safe. Honestly, you’re not the only one who loves her, you know.”
I arch my brow. “After what you fucking did? You still believe that you love her?!” I scoff a cynical laugh.
“I mean, it’s no worse than what you did,” he counters, his words slashing through me like a blade. I freeze for a second, a second too long as Morbius notices a slow grin spreading across his face. He leans in closer, and I tense. “A little secret for you.” He holds up his hand. “The Dominion talk,”he whispers.
I grit my jaw tight. Ignoring him. “Where is she?”
“You’re no fun. You used to be fun,” he adds, walking away. He halts and turns back to face me. “Well, you coming or not?” He gestures. Without much choice, I follow him, my eyes darting everywhere, anticipating danger. He leads me through huge double doors into a large room that looks like a library. Two armchairs sit next to a roaring fire. Two glasses were placed on the table, filled with blood. He gestures for me to take a seat.
I tense, looking around the room as Morbius sits. “For goodness’ sake, sit down. I can’t kill you, and you can’t kill me.” I sit stiffly, my eyes narrowing on him. “You can stop looking at me like that. You always think the worst of me, brother.”
“I think the worst of you because of what you’ve done,” I hiss.
He picks up his glass and takes a sip, blood coating his lips. He leans his head back, closing his eyes as a light moan vibrates from him. “The 1969 Chateau Margaux really does elevate the blood.”
I don’t touch the blood; he can’t kill me, but I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt or incapacitate me. He notices and rolls his violet eyes. “Brother, you really think I would poison you with this delectable blood?”
I don’t respond,
He huffs, reaches over, and takes a large sip of my blood. “There, happy?” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Where is she?” I hiss.
“She is safe, she has her own room and assistant. You will see her later for dinner,” he says, brushing off an imaginary piece of lint from his clothes. “You arrived earlier than expected, and I wasn’t expecting you alone,” he points out.
“Why?” I cut in.
“Well, because you lot never go far without each other.”
“No!” I snap, cutting him off. “Why take her?” I press.
He takes a sip of his blood before swirling the crimson liquid. “I told you. I love her,” he says without any amusement.
“If you loved her, you wouldn’t have done what you did,” I seethe.
