Chapter 17

TOBIAS

Blood rune travelnever affects me in the same way that the spell upsets the shifters" and witches" internal balance. But this time, I"m torn through a darker place, more aware of the movement in time and space, a vacuum sucking everything from me.

And this time, I can"t move once I land on the cold, hard floor, only able to stare up at the carved stone ceiling covered in symbols, and a mural depicting rough illustrations of people. Stars. Fire.

The dread spreading through to my bones holds onto my aching lungs too and I take fast, sharp breaths. Something"s wrong here. Not death because there"re other heartbeats I pick up on, but something close by is devoid of life but living. Are they heartbeats because several seconds pass between each hollow thud in my mind?

I stare upwards. Will I die here? Is this the curse realised—if I"m here, somehow Maeve"s protected? I jerkily move an arm like a patient rousing from anaesthesia. No. That wouldn"t make sense. I"m supposed to defend Maeve and we"ve more battles to win.

The thin air in this room doesn"t help with recovery. Demanding my muscles to move, I roll onto my side, headache subsiding as I take in more oxygen. I finally sit and rub at my face. If the place held death energy, I"d swear I was in a mausoleum, the windowless space a hollowed square, the same white stone creating the walls and the floor. A lit lantern shines weakly across the space.

Fire.

That"s why Andrei and Dorian are at the opposite ends of the room—from the lantern and each other, glaring. Andrei looks the same as when the First took us from the house, and Dorian"s a dishevelled version of his usual clothes, the blue shirt dusty and jeans torn at the knees.

Both are intact.

"Where are we?" I ask and shift to sit against another wall.

Dorian snorts, glacial eyes remaining on Andrei. "At the end of our lives, maybe?"

"Not mine," says Andrei.

"Cocky bastard now you"re filled with the First"s blood, huh?" sneers Dorian. "Or can you read your new mother"s mind?"

"That thing is not my mother," he snarls.

"Your creator? Yeah. Poor Andrei, we"re about to kill Gabriella and another evil thing has a grip on him."

I half slam my head on the wall and raise my eyes back to the weirdly etched ceiling. "Really, guys?"

"Andrei and I had a nice little chat while you snoozed." I pull a face at him. "He filled me in on events."

"Dorian"s scared of me now," says Andrei.

"Bullshit," he sneers.

"You should be scared, if you ever try to fuck me over again."

"Stop behaving like children," I snap. "We"ve more to be frightened by than you two trying to prove who has the biggest."

"It"s your fault I"m here," Dorian snaps at me. "I should never"ve mixed myself up with you lot. Should"ve focused on taking Oskar down."

"Well, you chose to join us, because you wanted the accolade of killing the Dominion leader," I say. "Couldn"t bear to let the world see someone apart from you has the ability to do the deed."

He scratches a cheek. "You lot fucked up everything. You let this creature go."

Andrei scoffs. "You were all for cosying up and taking the First"s blood, but it refused."

"So far."

Has Dorian convinced himself the creature will, eventually? "Can we focus on where we are?" I ask. "Is there a way out?"

Dorian gestures opposite himself to where a tiny amount of light creates an outline of a door. "There. No handle. Completely sealed. Maybe Super Andrei could shove the stone away?"

Andrei bares his teeth. "The First"s nearby," he says.

"Right. Perfect. The creature hasn"t left us to starve and rot," says Dorian, and stands. "A win for the day."

I shake my head. "We"ve importance to the First. The creature wouldn"t leave us here."

"Either that or the thing"s still playing its sick game," says Andrei. "Maybe left us here to fight to the death once we go stir crazy?"

We lapse back into silence, and I ponder Andrei"s words. No. That"s not how the First gets its kicks. I"m also certain if the creature wanted to watch the three of us tearing into each other that it"d ensure the spectacle happened in front of the others.

"At least if the First"s here, the others are safe," I suggest. "How"s the Gabriella search going, Dorian?"

"Found a few Dominion. Pockets of the bastards dotted around London. Red herrings."

"Did you get any info from them?" asks Andrei.

"Nah. Half were necromancer constructs or newer vamps with no info to extract." He rubs his nose. "Seems the Dominion are on a massive recruitment drive."

"Did they contain the blood mix?" I ask. How big is Gabriella"s army growing?

"Only normal blood in the recruits we found. Some hadn"t attended their special training yet and never will."

Shit. Training? "Let me guess. You ended their lives?" I say.

He scowls. "No choice. Either that or they"d report back to higher ups."

"Do you know where this special training takes place?" Andrei asks.

"Nope. The Dominion summon the new recruits once they"re ready. I"ve pushed into a few minds but found nothing yet. No venue. No clue what the training is." He taps the side of his head. "If we get out of here, that"s one skill you"re better at than I am, Tobias."

"You mean you"re not perfect?" asks Andrei with a mock gasp.

"And Confederacy?" I ask before the pair start bickering again.

Dorian falls silent, his only answer a shrug. He should share info with us about his other crusade. Maeve"s half-right in that we need to detach ourselves from Dorian and his crazy plans to take down some of toughest and best protected supernatural creatures in this world.

But will we ever be safe until Oskar and the Confederacy are gone?

I"m unsure how long the three of us sit here, mostly in silence, lost in our own thoughts. I"m worrying about the others—did they reach London? Did an attacker wait? Or more than one?

The scrape of stone brings brighter light into the room, and I blink as the sealed door inches open. Dorian"s on his feet in a heartbeat—as am I—but Andrei remains on the floor.

"It"s the First," he says with a weird confidence that it won"t attack us.

The light silhouetting the First isn"t daylight, but a dimly lit stone hallway. The First looks like "she" again, dressed the same as earlier—simple blue dress, but now with the side of her bobbed hair pinned back by a sunflower clip.

Silently, I seethe at the thing stealing Maeve"s possessions. Jamie bought Maeve the hair clip, and it shouldn"t be in that creature"s hair.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," the First says. "Do follow me."

"Where to?" asks Dorian. "You already tricked me once today."

Ah. That"s how he"s here. Did the First lure him with pretence that he could take the blood?

The First sticks her bottom lip out at Dorian, then waves a hand. "Out. All of you."

I"m not relieved that I walk away from the tomb-like room, instead my stomach drops lower with each step we take after the First. What"s the creature planning?

Fire-filled lanterns guide our way through similarly hewn rock, not a window in sight. "Are we underground?" I ask.

"Yes. As you can imagine, I don"t visit often as I"m not fond of underground environments. But I suppose neither are they," the First says, blue sandals barely making a sound on the uneven ground.

"They?" I ask. "Are our friends here?"

"No," replies Andrei for her. "I can"t hear Maeve"s heart."

"It could use magic to hide them," I whisper.

"It?" says the First disparagingly. "Watch how you talk about me when I can hear you."

I could apologise but don"t, dragging a hand through my hair instead.

The hallway ends with a door, this one carved with strange, primitive pictures and runes, similar to the ones in the room we left. The First touches the door that obediently slides open, revealing a circular space.

The walls are hewn from the same unyielding stone and the air thick—not with dust, but with the weight of magic. Several lanterns cast long shadows across the room. As the others join me, we"re swallowed by an unseen energy that infuses every breath taken in this space.

But the focus of this room punches air from my lungs.

Central to this chamber, one female and three males occupy four thrones, each chair a masterpiece of stonework, their designs intricate and imposing, as if conjured from the earth and onto the dais they perch on. The four figures, lifeless as the stone surroundings, sit regally in a straight stance, hands resting on the chair arms.

They"re dressed in elegant clothing, pristine velvets, silks, and brocades, adorned with intricate embroidery and fine lace. Each wears a different colour, subdued yet rich, with no modern touches. Their skin is paler than normal, matching their environment, creating a stark contrast with the dark, luxurious fabrics of their clothing.

Hemia vampires. Old ones.

I"ve never seen vampires resembling these; eerily beautiful, with an otherworldly presence. Their faces, with high, pronounced cheekbones and unnaturally large eyes, hold a sorrow that chills my soul, their expressions serene yet inscrutable.

Time hasn"t changed them because this place is timeless. How many years have they sat and witnessed the emptiness in silence?

Despite their stillness, there is a latent power within them, a sense of the original hemias" strength trapped. I reach out with my magic, attempting to sneak into their minds or touch their energy, but there"s none.

I dart a look around. Are there other seats waiting for us? No. The stone door scrapes closed, and the First wanders around to stand behind the vampires, a hand on each shoulder of the two men in the middle.

"Fucking hell," breathes out Dorian. "They do exist."

"Who?" I look at him blindly. "What is this?"

"Are we here to replace them?" asks Andrei hoarsely, the question forming in my mind, too.

"No, no. Can"t you count? There"re only three of you." The First taps her lips.

Crap. If I knew what the First planned, I could prepare myself, but I"ve no bloody clue at all. "Who are they, Dorian?" I ask.

"Tell him," says the First and squeezes each man"s shoulder. "I love hearing folk tales."

Dorian slides hands into his pockets, all too casually for such a tense situation. "They"re the original originals from the hemia line."

"And who are they specifically, Dorian?" she asks, like a teacher bringing students on an excursion to a museum.

This is a museum—a mausoleum with vampires frozen in living death.

"My vamp half descends from one—Reznik." He wrinkles his nose. "The family line ended, now that I"ve killed my vampire parents."

"Petrescu and Tepes are original families too," says Andrei hoarsely, face blanched whiter in horror.

"Yes, these are the four families who first plotted to trap me," says the First and mock pouts. "Almost succeeded."

"And now you"ll do the same to us?" My heart thumps harder. No. Who will protect Maeve when she needs? Because I don"t think I"m getting out of here.

The First huffs. "I said no, Tobias. Now, Dorian, who"s the fourth?"

"I"m only aware of three original families," says Dorian.

"Hmm." A smile snakes across the creature"s face. I tense as she steps closer to me. "Vitlak."

"There"s no family with that name," says Dorian. "I"d know because I"ve researched everything. That"s how I know the story that these vampires exist."

"How much do you know about your ancestry, Tobias?" the First asks, ignoring him.

I swallow hard. "Which one?" Andrei frowns at me. "I had other families. One who produced me, the others who raised me."

"Seems a common theme amongst us all," says Dorian, and I slice him a look. Not time for joking.

"The ones who bore you, blood-born child—did you keep their name?"

"Yes. Whitlock. And later I lived with a different family when I was a kid. Then they gave me to another. And another."

"Why?" asks Andrei.

I shake my head. "Because of what I was then. The other families created who I am now."

The First mocks a yawn, hand patting her mouth. "This isn"t the story I"m interested in, Tobias Whitlock."

Dorian suddenly barks out a laugh. "Oh! Bloody hell, Tobias. That"s your elder."

Bewildered, I focus on the vamp Dorian points at, as the First pats Dorian"s cheek, a move that sours his face, but he remains still. "Everything about you is perfection, Dorian Blackwood. How silly of your creators not to consider they"d produce something with a superior mind."

Well, that compliment will cheer Dorian up. Andrei scoffs quietly, and he and Dorian exchange a look.

"I still don"t understand..." But I do. I"m descended from the man in front of me, who"s stuck in a timeless life beyond immortality. How?

"Vitlak. Whitlock," says Dorian with a hint of smugness.

The First claps her hands. "Well done!"

"How did I not know this? I"ve never heard of the family name," I protest.

"The family went into hiding after I extracted their elder." She indicates the man second from the left dressed in a navy silk shirt and fitted black pants, his midnight brown hair hanging to his shoulders. "Few Vitlaks survived the Purge by the humans, and afterwards the family adopted a Western name that"s less obviously hemia. The Vitlaks became the Whitlocks."

I hold fingers against my mouth, mind reeling. "And the reason we"re here is because we share these hemias" bloodlines. What are you planning?"

Andrei stares at me, his weird new eyes glinting further, an edge of worry to his expression.

"These three men and the woman are the reason hemia can"t daywalk and why the race developed a bloodlust that overrides their thinking," the First says casually. "I cursed them. These vampires serve as a way for me to control those who thought they could outdo me." She gives a tight smile. "Just something for you three to bear in mind."

Dorian"s cockiness slides away. "I"m not a threat. Andrei definitely isn"t."

"Uh. Thanks, Dorian," I say and watch the First warily.

She scratches her head. "Hemia are stronger than other vampire-kind, as you know, and the original lines doubly so. They lorded over the lamia and pneuma—so superior, so clever. Well, so stupid."

"You"re the reason hemia can"t daywalk?" asks Andrei quietly.

"Yes." The First wanders around, stroking each of her captives" heads. "Hemia aren"t so superior now are they, skulking in the dark?"