Page 28 of Blood from the Marrow (Lilith’s Legacy #2)

Zuri focused on the point on the horizon where magic bloomed.

It was old. Almost like an echo reverberating on a loop.

She couldn’t grasp the message blasting over the waves, but it didn’t emit a repulsive sensation like a common guardian ward.

Instead, it seemed the magic’s only purpose was to distort the surrounding space.

As they neared, a fog rolled in and the night turned suddenly cold. If that hadn’t been creepy as fuck on its own, wooden poles banded together in twos and threes stood from the water like headless scarecrows.

Librada pulled back the throttle, slowing down to idle speed. “They mark where the channels are safe,” she explained, using her head to point to the apparent driftwood sticking out of a sandbank impossible to see in the dark.

Impossible to see until your boat ran aground, Zuri guessed. The fog thickened, swallowing light and sound and the breath from her lungs.

“If they do not already know the way”—Lib steered them blindly into a gray wall of thick atmosphere—“it is unlikely someone will risk getting stuck until the tide rises again.”

Closing her eyes, Zuri tried to leave her body.

Tried to stop imagining them crashing into something and getting stranded in the unsettling fog until the sun showed up to burn it away.

Would it even burn it away? The fog didn’t feel like magic, but it didn’t feel entirely mundane either.

It was almost as if someone had coaxed the natural occurrence into sticking around.

Marisol slipped her hand into Zuri’s. Zuri gripped it back hard, unconcerned with looking like a little bitch when it was all she could do not to scream and dive headfirst into the black water and swim all the way back home.

“Wow,” Marisol breathed, and Zuri reflexively opened her eyes.

A monastery rose out of the water ahead of them.

Its long, low, faded orange brick buildings converged on a single point.

On an illuminated bell tower standing tall and menacing at the center.

Hundreds of trees along the edge of the seawall were bright against the fog that circled the island but didn’t touch it.

“I don’t know how they keep people away from this,” Marisol said, attention glued to the bell tower, its white, carved stone a contrast to the brick. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Many believe that the island is haunted by the many humans who suffered from illness and plague after being cast out of society and abandoned here,” Librada explained, steering the boat slowly around a marshy patch and approaching the dock jutting out to greet them.

“Is that true?” Marisol asked, like it broke her heart to think of the freaking Bubonic Plague.

Librada replied with a noncommittal shrug before cutting the engine and leaving the cabin. After they were all off the boat, Lib guided it on a rope into a boathouse like she was hiding the strangest pet dog.

From the moment Zuri stepped onto the creaking wooden dock, she wanted to get the fuck out of there.

It wasn’t just the prospect of being on vampire island; it was how wrong it all looked.

The buildings were obviously big enough to house hundreds, maybe more, but there wasn’t a single bloodsucker traipsing around.

“This way.” Lib pointed to a break in the trees and they all followed.

Zuri couldn’t stop thinking about cows walking dutifully to the slaughter. Her stomach heaved and she was strangely grateful that she hadn’t eaten anything with a face since she met Bambi.

It shouldn’t have given Zuri any comfort when they moved out of the open and walked along the tree line toward a small stone structure at the edge of one of the brick buildings.

She knew how vampire powers worked. Knew that they heard and smelled so much more than humans did.

But she couldn’t help breathing a little better once they were covered by the trees.

Two vampires, a witch, and an angel couldn’t exactly pretend to be lost tourists.

Would Librada have a perfectly good explanation for why they were skulking around in the dark?

Zuri looked at the red-eyed vampire silently leading them.

She abandoned the hope that she’d ever used charm to defuse anything.

Elena walking behind them, however, could talk her way into or out of anything. The only question was, would she try?

“You’re late, Victor.” A female voice with a British accent joined the sound of water lapping against the retaining wall.

Behind her, Elena stiffened and Zuri reached for her magic. Grabbing Bambi by the wrist, Zuri pulled her back and shielded her with her body.

A figure stepped out from the small stone house, its door already open. In the low light, all Zuri could see was that she was tall with hair that was short or pulled back. But when Elena relaxed, Zuri did too.

Who the fuck is Victor? Zuri had to stop herself from asking aloud.

“I came as quickly as I could,” Lib replied in a voice so warm Zuri couldn’t help but turn her head to look at Elena. To share a what-the-fuck-is-this look.

“And with friends,” the woman replied. The silence stretched. No one moving. No one speaking. And then the voice added, “Elena.” An acknowledgment barely trying to sound like a greeting.

“Hel,” Elena replied with the same lukewarm enthusiasm.

“A witch and a—”

“This is Zuri,” Librada said like she wasn’t totally mortified at her presence. “And Marisol. They are Elena’s mates.”

Zuri was mortified enough at the word mates for all of them.

“Hel,” Librada continued, “is my contact in The Order.”

“Is that a nickname?” Marisol asked because she’d try and befriend Hannibal Lecter if she had a chance.

Hel nodded like they all had fucking vampire eyeballs capable of seeing clearly in the dark.

“What kind of nickname is that?” Marisol asked with an audible smile.

“Well… few who have been through Hel have lived to tell about it,” she replied like she was delighted to provide her tagline.

I’m the only one who hasn’t lost their fucking mind.

“If you came to get The Order on your side against Sayah, you’ve wasted a trip,” Hel said, tone neutral. “Lilith would never abide her daughters fighting each other.”

“Talk to her lately?” Elena snapped.

“Lilith’s grief over the loss of her daughters has been recorded in every—”

“We’re not here for Lilith storytime,” Elena started.

“Then why are you here?” Hel asked, as if to remind them they’d shown up on her wet doorstep and not the other way around.

“To talk to Sabina,” Librada replied, adding another name Zuri didn’t recognize to the mix.

“About what?”

“Some history,” Elena responded.

Hel laughed. “Since when do you care—”

“I think she may know of the Aglion,” Lib said in an uncharacteristic showing of cards. Had Elena known she’d spill too much? Is that why she’d tried to head her off?

“Aglion?” Hel repeated, no indication that she recognized the term.

“Something she may know about,” Lib replied, without responding.

“You’re going to have to give me more than that or you can follow the proper steps for an audience—”

“I can’t,” Lib said, soft tone betraying her regret. “We know very little—”

“Then give me what you got.” The outline of Hel’s muscular arms was visible in the low light. “If it were just you here, Lib, you know I would take you in, no questions asked.”

Zuri guessed the rest. It was the rest of them causing the hesitation. Her fault for the delay.

“Can you really trust her?” Zuri asked Lib with her attention on where she guessed Hel stood staring at her.

“With my life,” Lib replied quietly.

“For fuck’s sake,” Zuri grumbled, accepting that they were going to have to chance it. A notion that made her want to puke considering their odds lately.

“Zuri, don’t. We’ll find out another way—” Elena said with more emotion than she’d heard since Georgia.

“Are you sure this is worth it?” Zuri asked Lib and ignored Elena.

“No,” Lib admitted. “But Sabina is twice as old as any vampire still in society. She is our best chance—”

“And we don’t have the luxury of time,” Zuri finished her sentence. “Alright, at least get us where someone can’t see us?” It was another illusion of safety, but she needed to get out of the open. She felt like a fluffy bunny in the middle of a wolf enclosure.

When everyone started for the small stone building, Elena had no choice but to follow. Zuri was surprised that her having made a decision for the group hadn’t triggered Elena to dive for the driver’s seat and wrestle back control. Disheartened that she hadn’t.

Inside the single-room structure used to store lawn equipment, magic hummed.

It wasn’t fresh, active magic. It was woven into the stones; an old, lingering energy, as if witches had infused their power into the masonry when the monastery was first built.

The closest thing Zuri had ever seen were coven houses, but the magic there was from a relic.

Not produced by the structure itself. And it didn’t feel exactly like witchcraft.

But she wasn’t fluent in every strand of the craft.

Brujas dominated Miami, with a small smattering of Veil and Salem witches.

But there were dozens of practices, each forking from the same source but maintaining their own customs.

Hel turned on a camping lantern. Illuminated, she didn’t look how Zuri imagined.

Even taller up close, Hel was giving Alexander Skarsg?rd and Hannah Waddingham had an intimidating baby.

The scars on one cheek looked like she’d bested a fucking tiger in her first life.

Windswept, short blonde hair and forearms so corded with muscle, Zuri would’ve believed she’d choked that tiger with her bare hands. She was fucking hot.

Next to her, Lib looked at Hel with an expression Zuri had never seen. Yearning. Had she been in Hel and lived to tell about it?

“Alright, let’s have it.” Hel propped her hands on her narrow hips.

Going for broke, Zuri spilled what they knew about the Aglion. She framed the facts in a way that didn’t give away Marisol’s direct association. That kept her identity hidden just in case.

When Zuri was finished, Hel turned her stormy blue eyes on each one of them in turn.

The longer Hel stood silent, the more tension snaked up Zuri’s spine and coiled in her muscles.

Hel was built like a fucking castle turret, but Zuri would drop her to her knees just the same if she took a step toward Bambi.

“You’ve seen this then?” Hel asked Librada.

Librada nodded.

Another agonizing silence, and then Hel turned on her heels with military precision and started for the back of the room.

In a panty-dropping show of strength, Hel squatted to pick up a pallet stacked chest-high with bags and bags of soil like a fucking forklift.

She carried it with the ease of bringing groceries in from the car and set it down with a dull thud on the stone floor.

Zuri and Marisol exchanged a shameless look that screamed fuck that’s hot. Behind them, Elena cleared her throat, signaling her disapproval. Zuri chuckled and for the briefest moment, it didn’t feel like death was imminent.

“A basement?” Elena stepped out as if blocking Zuri and Bambi’s view would change their appreciation of the view. “On a city floating over water?”

“It’s a crypt,” Lib explained as if seeing Hel’s plan. “But there’s no access from here.”

“A lot has changed since you were here last, Victor.” Hel lifted a trapdoor made of thick cement. “I’ll take you to Sabina. The rest of you can wait here and don’t move—”

“No, please.” Marisol strode across to Hel. “I have to talk to her. If she knows—”

“It’s bad enough I’m bringing one person outside The Order into a venerated place.” Her gaze flashed to Lib like she wished things were different. “You’re not even a vampire, luv.”

“So take me,” Elena offered.

Hel laughed like it was the most absurd suggestion. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Maybe I’m looking to convert.” Elena sounded more like herself than she had in weeks.

She moved with the ghost of a swagger when she slid one hand into the pocket of her trousers.

“I’ve always been fond of Cleopatra.” Her pale lips eased into a lopsided smile Zuri almost believed.

“All that brilliance and beauty. After everything that’s happened, I am seeking solace in the teachings of The Mother. ”

Hel’s laughter deepened despite Elena’s serviceable acting. Maybe if they’d chosen that angle from the start—if they’d used Elena’s complete detachment from her former self to sell a conversion story. Too fucking late for that.

Zuri didn’t bother volunteering. She doubted Hel would go for a witch in vampire church, and she didn’t want to waste her patience.

“Please, Hel.” Marisol’s attention was laser-focused.

Bambi’s eyes were as wide and dripping with as much desperation as Zuri had ever seen. Zuri clenched her useless fists. She wanted to bring Hel to her knees and torment her with nightmares until she relented, but they were at Hel’s mercy. Intimidation wouldn’t work.

“I’m the—”

Librada cut off Marisol’s ill-considered confession before Zuri processed her words. “I trust her, Hel. With my very own life.” She swallowed, brows furrowed. “And yours.”

Hel’s pale eyebrows rose up her handsome face.

Her gaze shifted between Marisol and Librada, as if trying to understand how they could have forged such trust. Zuri held her breath and willed Hel not to ask aloud.

Willed her to believe in Lib’s judgment when her vote of confidence was nearly impossible to earn.

“What you’re asking…” Hel’s eyes softened for Librada, and Zuri read a world of old pain laced through vestigial love.

“I know,” Lib admitted quietly.

Hel’s broad shoulders dropped when she exhaled her resignation. “You make a single dodgy move—”

“I won’t,” Marisol promised, darting forward like she didn’t want to chance Hel changing her mind.

She moved too fast and Zuri’s instinct propelled her to follow. Elena caught her by the wrist. The contact with her skin shocked Zuri into stopping.

“If you two won’t stay put—” Hel started, but Zuri didn’t let her finish.

“We will,” Zuri promised, eyes on Lib and silently begging her to take care of Marisol.

And then Marisol was following Hel into a hole in the ground and Zuri was trying not to puke.