Page 21 of A Touch of Darkness (Chronicles of the Cursed #1)

The entrance to the Crimson Veil is easy to miss, tucked between a whimsical apothecary and a crumbling bookstore, nestled along a narrow street. To anyone passing by, it’s nothing more than a relic of the past. But I know better. The unassuming facade is the first layer of protection, a test to weed out the unworthy and the unwelcome.

The moment I step inside, the ancient wards press against my senses, subtle but unyielding. Only vampires, their allies, and those with no ill intent can pass beyond this point. Hunters and slayers don’t make it far—they’d find themselves inexplicably frozen, their bodies refusing to move forward, or forced to flee with sudden nausea.

I glance at the antique mirror hanging on the wall by the staircase, the silver frame inscribed with runes faintly glowing in the dim light. A flicker of amusement crosses my mind. The enchantment doesn’t just repel enemies; it senses intent. Anyone harboring a grudge or plotting harm to those below is stopped in their tracks.

As I descend the narrow staircase, the wards shift, brushing over me like unseen hands, verifying my presence as if I could be anyone but who I am. The spellwork is impressive, layered with intent, designed to adapt and grow stronger with time.

The air grows cooler the deeper I go, the faint strains of 1920s jazz music filtering up through the cracks. When I reach the bottom, the iron door creaks open, and the sight of Crimson Veil greets me like a lover’s whisper.

The room is a masterpiece of dark elegance. Velvet drapes the color of deep garnet hang from the ceilings, framing a space bathed in soft, flickering light. Tables are scattered across the obsidian floor, their surfaces polished to a mirror-like sheen. Lanterns shaped like wrought-iron cages hang low, casting intricate shadows that dance along the walls.

The room hums with quiet, serene energy. Crimson Veil has long been a haunt for the supernatural. Unlike Midnight Delight, the feeding club, Crimson Veil is more of a bar setting. There isn’t full-on feeding happening here, not directly from humans, although vampires can purchase blood packs or a range of other specialty drinks. Vampires, ally witches, and the humans who support them mingle in careful harmony, the kind born not of trust but of necessity. There’s an unspoken rule here: what happens in these walls stays here. Disputes, vendettas, and grudges are left at the door—or they’ll be dealt with swiftly.

I find Dorian at the far side of the room, leaning against the bar with a glass of blood-red wine in hand. His eyes flicker to me as I approach, a small but knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Lucian,” he greets with an almost sarcastic familiarity. “Here to stir up trouble again, old friend?”

“I’m here to gather information from an old source of ours, not cause a scene,” I reply, my voice flat.

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, but his eyes narrow slightly, picking up on my tension. “Let’s see how long that lasts.” He smirks. “I saw Henry Quinn over there. Assumed he may be here for you.”

We move to a quieter corner, far from the swirling conversations and clinking glasses. I want to speak to Henry—he was once a member of the Solstice Society, but he’s since changed his ways and is now acting as more of an informant for us—but there’s something I need to tell Dorian first. He may act like he’s above it all, but his mind is sharper than anyone else’s in this damned city.

“I’ve been thinking about Sylvie,” I say, my voice low.

Dorian raises an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not surprised. What is it about this girl that has you so wound up? I thought you’d have moved past this by now. You aren’t usually so stuck on your conquests.”

I pace slightly, my thoughts spinning. “She’s having visions now, Dorian. Strong ones. One of her sister lingering between life and death. The night Seraphina turned me—when she created the vampire curse with her young, powerful magic. I’m certain she’s dangerously close to uncovering the truth. That she and Seraphina are one and the same.”

Dorian’s gaze flickers, his expression unreadable. “That’s... disconcerting. You’re playing with fire, Lucian. She can’t handle the liability of that truth. None of us could. Knowing you were responsible for the turning of mankind? Think of all the blood on a singular woman’s hands. How she would feel.”

I pause, running my fingers through my hair. “And to think, I didn’t believe you had much of your humanity left in you after all these years.” I let out a chuckle, then find my resolve. “I know, though. I know that. But she’s getting closer. And I can’t let her face it alone. Not after everything. Not when I ruined her the first time—and ultimately, the blood is on my hands because I’m the one who betrayed Seraphina in the first place.”

Dorian takes a long sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving me. He doesn’t speak for a moment, just watches me.

Finally, he asks, “Despite your kind natured heart, Lucian, why does this matter so much to you? You’re nearly two centuries old, last I checked. You’ve seen and done things many couldn’t even imagine. You’ve lived through it all. Don’t you have other things to do? Surely there’s plenty of humans and vampires you could latch onto, enough distractions to fill the years. Why is this—why is Sylvie —so important?”

I feel the significance of his words, the truth in them like a dagger to the chest. He’s right, of course. I could find someone else. Someone less complicated. But then I remember her—remember Seraphina—and everything changes.

“I wanted to make a different choice, Dorian,” I confess, my voice cracks from the emotion I’ve been trying to bury for centuries. “When Seraphina first came to me... when she chose me, I rejected her. I chose power over her love, and it condemned us both—condemned so many. I wanted to be free of it all, but I’m still bound by it. And when I saw Sylvie again, something in me... snapped. She’s her—but she’s also someone else. Someone who doesn’t know the truth. She deserves a choice, Dorian. She deserves a chance to break free, to end us, even, if she so desires. A chance I never gave her.”

Dorian exhales slowly, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “You’re trying to make up for it after all these years?”

I nod, my jaw tightening. “I’m trying to save her. Before it’s too late.”

We stand in silence for a moment, the hum of the room around us growing louder. Dorian glances toward the far end of the room where Henry Quinn sits, waiting for me, and then looks back at me, his eyes sharp. “We should talk to him. The sooner we figure out what the Solstice Society’s planning, the better. If they’re truly watching Sera— Sylvie , they won’t wait long to make their move, especially if her abilities are starting to show.”

I nod again, my resolve hardening. “Come, then.”

We make our way to the far corner where Henry sits, his eyes constantly scanning the room. He looks up as we approach, his lips curling into a slight but knowing smile.

“Lucian. Dorian,” he greets, his tone neutral but with an edge of caution.

“We need information,” I say, my voice cutting through.

Henry doesn’t flinch. “Information about what? The Society’s been playing their hand for years. There’s nothing new unless you’re after something specific.”

“We need to know what they want, specifically, with Sylvie and Lara Rosenthal,” I say, my words heavy with the weight of the past and present. “Why them? Why now? We’re aware of pieces, but what is their concrete goal?”

Henry shifts in his chair, eyes flicking from me to Dorian. “You’re behind the times, Lucian. They’ve been fixated on those twins for years. The Solstice Society doesn’t focus on just anyone. They believe Sylvie—and Lara, by proxy, hold the key to completing an old prophecy.”

I lean in, my senses sharpening. “Can you explain the prophecy, what they know of it?”

Henry regards me coolly, as if weighing whether to tell me more. “A hunter born of twins, I know you’ve heard of it in all your studies. It’s about balance—about tipping the scales. They think Sylvie could be the one to end the vampire curse and take you all out, a workaround of sorts by using her as a pawn. But it cannot be done with Lara walking beside her. Her abilities, her strength—neither would come in full force when she’s hiding in her sister’s shadow. Lara had to be taken in order for Sylvie to realize her true potential on her own.”

It makes sense. Her abilities are tied to her emotions…much in the way Seraphina’s were. “The curse...” I mutter, my thoughts drifting back to Seraphina’s rage, her vengeance. My own guilt twists inside me. “And Lara Rosenthal? Is she truly suspended in time?” I don’t mention the full vision that Sylvie shared with me, he doesn’t need to know.

Henry leans in, his voice dropping lower. “They don’t care enough about Lara to kill her. The want to use her. They want to trap her. Keep her suspended in time, as you clearly know. They think they can use her to manipulate the curse and its origin, use her to tempt her sister into joining the Society and bending to their will. They’ll need both of them for their final act, I remember that,” he says.

I grit my teeth, fists clenched at my sides. “How long do you think we have?”

Henry’s gaze hardens, his eyes sharp. “They’re already making moves. They know what she is. And they know what she could become for them.”

Dorian places his glass down, his expression unreadable. “So they’re playing a dangerous game with her. Using her bloodline, her connection to the curse.”

Henry looks at us both, his face a mask of knowing. “You’re both playing a game you can’t win. Sylvie’s not just a weapon. She’s a force of nature, and they are going to see to it that they win her over. This has been planned for so long, I would find it hard to believe it not foolproof.”

Before I can turn to leave, Dorian places a hand on my shoulder, a grounding touch. “Careful, Lucian. This isn’t just about you or your past anymore.”

I glance back at Henry, his eyes already scanning the room for potential threats. He’s right. The danger is closer than I thought, and the Solstice Society’s web is tightening around Sylvie.

I have to act—and soon.