Chapter 3

Grey

Carrow and I arrived in Siaora three hours later. She had been delayed in meeting me at my flat, but she'd come bearing a bag of potion bombs from Eve—a wise move.

We'd used a transportation charm to make the journey. Just holding her hand as we'd walked through the portal had made my heart race.

Who the hell was I becoming?

"This is…different," she said, looking out at the darkened city. The sun hovered over the peaked roofs, and the golden glow should have made the place look beautiful. Instead, it only looked more ominous. A trick of the light made the sun look like blood on the cobblestones, and the ramshackle buildings were as dreary as ever. Though it was midday, it seemed dark as dusk. It would be worse at the castle.

"It's far different than the rest of Transylvania," I said, remembering the colorful shopfronts of my hometown in Sighi?oara. And Brasov, where I'd taken her before, was also a bright, beautiful city.

But Siaora, the home of Silviu, was everything that humans thought vampires to be—dark, frightening, dreadful.

A face peeked out of a window to our right, then ducked back behind the curtain when I turned to look.

"Come," I said. "It will be an unpleasant walk up to Silviu's castle. It'd be best to make it before the weather turns."

She nodded and followed me down the street, sticking close as we passed darkened houses and stores. The streets were entirely empty, as if the citizens were afraid of stepping foot outside.

Some were, in fact.

All, actually.

With the exception of my recon trip, I hadn't been to Siaora since I'd left it hundreds of years ago. By the time I'd moved on, still deep in the throes of Silviu's blood lust, I'd terrorized the hell out of the inhabitants.

Perhaps I should make amends.

The thought startled me.

I'd never considered it before. Until now, I'd assumed that not killing people was the best I could do.

But maybe I owed something to these people, the descendants of those I had terrorized so long ago. They obviously still remembered me—I supposed the stories had been passed down through generations.

"What are you thinking about?" Carrow asked.

"Ah, nothing interesting." I wasn't keen to admit to my past, especially in front of the person who had inspired me to be better. I pointed to the hill that loomed over the city and the castle that sat atop it. "We're going there."

She looked up at it and swallowed hard, her neck moving. Hunger pierced me, desire following quick on its heels. My fangs lengthened in my mouth, and I pressed my lips tightly together, trying to force my teeth back to normalcy.

This was not appropriate.

We reached the end of town, arriving at the gravel path that led up the spine of the hill. It was the only path to the castle, a short but hellish ascent.

"You may want to zip your coat," I said.

She nodded and pulled on the zipper, drawing it up so that it closed tightly around her. We stepped onto the path, the sharp gravel shifting underfoot. It was made of a gleaming black stone that would cut like a knife if we tripped.

As we ascended, darkness fell. All around, jagged spires of rock thrust heavenward, ominous sentinels guarding our route to the top. Soon, it was pitch black, punctuated only by cracks of lightning that lit up the sky.

"It's too early to be nighttime," Carrow said.

I nodded. "It's a curse that surrounds the castle. Or perhaps it's just Silviu's energy. I'm not sure. But it has always been this way."

She shivered. "It looks like every human movie about vampires."

"Somehow, I think this is where they found their inspiration."

We were about halfway up when the air began to chill more ferociously. Soon, it felt like the interior of a freezer or the depths of the arctic. Biting wind whipped our hair and cut into our cheeks. My eyes watered against the gale, and I squinted, tucking my head down.

The lightning struck almost continuously, and thunder boomed through the sky. As we climbed, the air seemed to seep into my bones, chilling my marrow until I felt like a sentient icicle.

Worse, it crept inside my mind. Horrible thoughts rose, the fears that haunted me at night. I could banish them while lying safe in my bed, but here, there was no fighting them. The wind pulled them out, forcing them to the front of my mind. Forcing me to walk through the gauntlet of the things that haunted me whenever I closed my eyes.

My life or hers.

The moment was coming, time marching inevitably onward. I would have to choose one day. Soon. Succumbing to the blood lust—killing Carrow—was the demon that haunted my thoughts.

It would happen without my conscious will. The beast inside me would rise, forcing me to obey. It grew stronger with each passing moment. Soon, I would take every drop of blood from her. She would be gone. Dead. Her brilliant energy would no longer grace the earth, her laughter and her kindness and her strength.

The mere thought made my insides twist horribly. It was the darkest fate I could imagine—the beast inside me taking her life. When she was gone, I would wake from the stupor, finding myself alone, guilty of the foulest crime I could imagine.

The thought nearly sent me to my knees. At the back of my consciousness, I knew that this was the magic of the gauntlet, forcing me to face my greatest fears. To wallow in them until they cut my knees out from under me.

There was only one option—one thing that might save us both.

If I were to find a way to lock myself at the bottom of the sea like I had my old nemesis, Ivan. Beneath a mountain of rock might work just as well. It would prevent the beast from rising, and eventually, the curse would take me to hell, thereby protecting Carrow.

But when did I need to attempt this? When would I no longer have control of my actions?

And could I tell her how I felt before I locked myself away?

No.

If I were to speak the words, it would be even harder to leave her. Perhaps impossible.

The idea that I might never tell her made my bone ache even more fiercely. The world had become a tunnel of darkness around me, illuminated only by strobing lightning: jagged black spears of rock piercing the sky, sharp stones underfoot, freezing cold.

Carrow leaned close to me, her shoulder pressing against mine.

The contact shocked me back to awareness, dragging me from the horrible haze that the gauntlet had cast upon my mind.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Though her form felt cold and brittle, just like mine probably did, there was something else there.

Warmth. Connection.

A sparkling golden light seemed to flow around us, warming me from the outside. Reminding me that we were here to find an option other than death.

I clung to it, forcing one foot in front of the other. Whether Carrow dragged me or I dragged her, it was impossible to say. Maybe we dragged each other.

Minute by minute, we ascended through hell.

Finally, we reached the steps leading up to the imposing castle.

I looked upward, catching sight of the tall, midnight turrets that speared toward the clouds. Lightning crackled behind them, illuminating the structure. The stone was carved to appear sharp and serrated, the glass brilliant blood red.

The sight carried me back to the past, to the brief moment in which I'd regained consciousness after Silviu had drained me of my blood. He'd hauled my nearly dead corpse back here, dragging me over the threshold of his terrible fortress, where he would feed me his blood and force me to become like him.

I'd woken just briefly, long enough to see the castle looming overhead as he carried me inside. Then blackness. Next, I would awake a monster.

"This is better." Carrow's teeth chattered from the cold, but she was right.

It was slightly warmer, the wind no longer as bitter or as biting. The horrible memories and fears drifted away, no longer forced to the front by magic.

"That was terrible," she said. "The things I saw in my head..."

"Magic. The ascent is called the gauntlet. It's enchanted to force you to face your greatest fears."

"Well, it worked." She looked upward, her eyes widening at the sight of the castle. "This place is creepy as hell."

I nodded. "He was the worst of us."

"Was?"

"I hope he's changed. Perhaps. But the myths of vampires were based on him. He is the oldest and the most terrifying."

"No wonder your first years as a vampire were terrible, if this is where you lived."

I nodded. "Perhaps. But do not forget, I was the one responsible for my actions. No matter the influence of Silviu, I still did those things."

She nodded, dropping her head to look at the door. Not at me.

Why did I feel compelled to make her face my terrible nature?

Because it's who I am.

I shoved the thought away and pounded on the door, ready to leave the past behind and enter the future. The fact that I had to face the most horrible part of my past did not escape me, however.

A moment later, the door swung open. A slender, pale figure stared out at us. Bald, with eyes as dark as black holes, Remington looked no different than he had when I'd seen him last. He still wore the same simple dark robes that made him look like the Grim Reaper.

I nodded. "Remington."

"Devil." Remington inclined his head briefly. "The Master is expecting you."

"Not my master any longer."

Something violent flickered in Remington's eyes, but he wouldn't act on it. He stepped back and gestured for us to enter. "Come in."

I kept myself between Carrow and Remington as I entered the shadowed, barren hall. Like the exterior of the castle, the large foyer was cold and stark and miserable. The stone blocks that formed the walls were dark and sharp looking, as if one would receive a thousand cuts if a shoulder were to graze them.

As it had been in the past, only a few paltry candles lit the space, casting shadows, deep and dark. There was no doubt that monsters lurked within.

"You may wait in the salon." Remington strode across the room, and we followed.

"Someone is watching us," Carrow whispered against my ear.

The warmth of her breath made a shiver race down my spine. "More than one. The place is haunted. Keep your guard up."

She nodded, tucking closer to me.

I could feel eyes on us as we walked, but it was impossible to locate their owners. Remington showed us into a small room that I didn't recall from my past. It was bland enough—by Silviu's standards—that there was no reason I should remember it even if I had been inside.

It was roughly fifteen feet by fifteen, the wallpaper dark and the hearth flickering with a black and orange flame. A dark couch sat in front of the fire, and the room was empty save for the paintings on the wall. They were done entirely in shades of black and dark gray, the images seeming to move even though they were impossible to decipher.

"He will call on you soon." Remington inclined his head, then shut the door behind him.

"When—"

I held up a hand to cut Carrow off and made a soft shh noise.

She quieted, and I walked the perimeter of the room, inspecting it for any of Silviu's magical spying devices. His magic was distinct enough that I would feel it—particularly since he was my maker. It gave me a connection that others didn't have.

Near one of the paintings, a tiny black crystal was affixed to the wall. It vibrated with Silviu's magic, a sickly sweet smell of decaying flesh that had always turned my stomach.

I removed it and dropped it to the ground, then crushed it under my shoe. Once I'd determined that the room was clean, I turned to Carrow. "My apologies. I didn't want Silviu to listen in."

"He won't be mad?"

"Perhaps. Would you prefer he spy on us?"

She shrugged. "We could just not speak."

I might not have much time left with her. I didn't want to spend it in silence when I could be listening to her instead.

"It's fine," I said. "Better for him to know we are on equal footing."

"Is that the power balance here? You're equals, even though he is your maker?"

I nodded. "Once, it was not the case. When I was first turned, he possessed the power to grind me under his boot."

"I imagine that didn't work for you."

"It did not." Just the memory made my skin tighten. "In the end, it was the horrors I committed here that saved me. The depths of the depravity returned my senses to me through the blood lust. Part of me did not want to kill like that. Whatever soul I had left was resurrected in the middle of all that bloodshed. With the barest sliver of my mind returned to me, I was able to fight my way free."

"And then you were on equal footing with Silviu?"

"Yes. I was able to turn my viciousness on him. He chose me because I was strong. But he didn't realize that strength would free me from his grasp."

"So you left here."

"Yes. It took ten years, but I left."

"To go do good works?" Skepticism sounded in her voice, reminding me that she knew my reputation.

I had no intention of lying to her, however. "Hardly. I'm still not a good man, and I never have been. But I was never meant to be pure, unthinking evil."

"Like Silviu."

"Like Silviu." I shrugged. "Though perhaps he has changed."

"That's the second time you've said that. You really think so?"

"Staying the same for hundreds of years is deeply boring. Excruciatingly so. He may have changed to keep himself from going insane."

"The fact that evil insanity is our other option is not reassuring."

I chuckled, and she gave a small smile.

Standing there amidst all the darkness and horror of this place only made her shine more fiercely, golden and bright. I'd have loved her no matter what she looked like, but it felt particularly poetic that she should gleam like sunrise when placed beside the horrors of my past.

Behind us, a door creaked open, and a slice of orange light cut across the floor.

I turned and spotted Remington, who said, "The Master will see you now."