Page 29 of Blood from the Marrow (Lilith’s Legacy #2)

Chapter Twenty

When Hel said they were going into a crypt, Marisol hadn’t had time to think about what that meant. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have imagined something so beautiful.

Intricately cut stone archways lead to domed chambers with Byzantine art in muted yellows and oranges and reds in every room. She wished she’d worn something warmer than a thin cable knit sweater, but the experience was worth the damp cold.

At first glance, Marisol would have expected to see the male saints typically painted in the style, but small lights installed unobtrusively in the ceiling showed fierce women. Hecate with her mythical lantern and loyal dogs. Hera, mouth open and expression fierce, pointing a scepter.

Marisol gawked with her eyes trained on the ceiling. She was going to ask who was buried in the massive stone caskets visible in some of the chambers, but Hel stopped their advance with a raised hand.

“Damn, flooded again,” Hel groused.

Marisol glanced down at the geometric designs of the marble floor. Ahead of them, the maze of chambers had several inches of standing water.

“The long way it is, then,” Hel said as if in secret conversation with someone and led them left.

Not hiding her interest in seeing more of the vast underground structure, Marisol risked asking questions.

Despite her tough appearance, Hel happily told Marisol what all the different scenes represented.

Engaged in the role of tour guide, Hel looked disappointed when they arrived at a set of narrow steps leading up to an arched door.

It looked identical to the other doorways they’d seen and she couldn’t imagine ever memorizing the layout.

“Sabina is only expecting you, Victor.” Hel’s attention bounced between Marisol and Lib. “She hasn’t seen a new face in a hundred years. And a non-vampire… I’m not sure how long on that one.”

Marisol furrowed her brow. Before she could ask if that meant she was supposed to stay by herself in the crypt that suddenly felt like a suffocating tomb, Hel continued.

“There is an antechamber in her quarters.” She looked at Lib. “Suppose it’s a good thing you’ve apparently been inseparable. You share a scent.” Her gaze flickered back to Marisol. “You should be undetectable as long as you remain silent.”

The sound of dripping water and other creepy echoes made Marisol nod furiously.

She might not be able to ask questions, but relaying what Sabina said in her own words had to go a long way with the other Aglion.

They’d have to accept it as a show of good faith that as soon as Sayah was dealt with, they’d turn all their resources on helping them.

Rescuing them from ignorance and fear. Liberating them to choose whatever life they wanted.

“Let’s get to it, then.” Hel climbed the steps and pushed open the wooden door.

Marisol held her breath and followed.

Walking into a storybook fever dream, it only took a second to realize they were in the bell tower. The antechamber in the sprawling cylindrical room was wall-to-wall books. The enclosed space had its own walls, but not its own ceiling, giving the entrance an expansive feeling.

Stairs without handrails snaked the visible part of the tower, creating rooms where none had probably existed. Marisol’s gaze floated to the top several landings high and wondered what it would be like to look down from what she guessed was a loft. A little nest perched over heaven.

Hel touched her arm lightly to get her attention. When Marisol looked at her wonderstruck, Hel gave a knowing little smile. Then she tipped her head and put her finger over her own lips to remind her to be quiet. Silently promising to stay rooted to the stone floor, Marisol nodded.

She couldn’t help peering inside when Hel pushed the door open, Lib stepping in behind her. Hel had asked her not to move, but there was no rule against peeking. Marisol caught the briefest glimpse of curly black hair woven into a long braid before Lib left the door open only a crack.

After greeting each other somewhat warmly, Librada launched into her plea for help.

Marisol would’ve given anything to be able to see Sabina’s expressions as she listened, because she didn’t make a single sound while Librada talked.

She didn’t interrupt. Didn’t ask questions.

Didn’t give up a single clue about what she thought of the Aglion.

Sabina didn’t say a single word until she uttered the sentence that made Marisol’s heart sink into her sour stomach.

“I’m afraid I cannot help you, Librada,” she said, her accent impossible to identify. “There are a few mentions of what I suppose are these Aglion in our histories, but they were myths propagated by witches during the Great Wars. I have never seen any credible evidence that the creatures existed.”

Marisol clenched her teeth. I’m standing right here. The words rattled in her chest, tearing at her to be set free.

“I am glad of your visit, but sorry you have come so far for nothing,” Sabina said like she really meant it.

Her gaze swept desperately over the towering shelves surrounding her. Thousands of books. Centuries of knowledge. How could there be nothing? Her wings burned beneath her skin, responding to her rising panic.

“We should go,” Hel said quietly. “I told you this was a long shot.”

No, she wanted to scream. She couldn’t walk away like this. There had to be something here.

“You might as well come out. I can hear your pulse thundering from here,” Sabina said with a sigh.

Fear made Marisol freeze. She held her breath like that might stop the thundering in her neck.

Hel cursed, but it was more disappointment than anger. “It’s alright, luv,” she called. “Wild horses couldn’t have covered up that sound.”

A moment later, Librada appeared in the doorway. Her eyes brimming with the shame of failure as if any of this were fault. As if she’d been the one to lose track of her history.

Taking tentative steps, Marisol followed closely behind Librada. It was the first time she’d been in a room full of strange vampires without Elena and Zuri, and it felt like taking the battlefield without armor. She felt small and exposed and incredibly stupid.

Sitting in a high-back chair fit for a queen, Sabina rose when Marisol entered her study.

Her eyes were pale brown but shrewd when they scanned Marisol from top to bottom.

Sabina looked like she was in her mid-fifties but she moved like she carried centuries in her bones.

Slow and purposeful as she drifted toward Marisol.

“Who are you?” Sabina asked, and Marisol had the irrepressible hunch that she meant to ask what, not who.

Marisol looked at Librada for help answering the question, but Lib’s unreadable face was even more blank than usual. All Marisol had was her gut and the conviction that the truth had only ever helped her. She turned back to Sabina.

“I’m sorry,” Marisol said softly, “but you’re wrong. The Aglion are not a scary story made up by witches.”

Before anyone could speak, before they could stop her or throw her out, before she could talk herself out of it, Marisol reached for the energy tingling in her shoulder blades. Her wings effortlessly unfurled in a rush of light and power, translucent at first, then solidifying into brilliant white.

Sabina stumbled backward, hand pressed to her chest. “Blessed Lilith,” she breathed, eyes wide the way Librada’s had been the first time she’d seen her power. “The hand of our Mother.” She stared at Marisol’s wings while all the color drained from her face.

Hel gawked, mouth open. She was frozen before looking to her side at Librada. Looking like she needed someone to pinch her.

“You have to help us,” Marisol pleaded, wings curled protectively around herself.

“There are others like me. Not very many and they’re barely surviving.

They’ve been running for so long. Running from something they don’t understand.

They’re living like animals, and I need to know what’s hunting them so I can stop it. ”

Sabina moved closer, eyes fixed on Marisol’s wings with open wonder. It was then that Marisol realized she’d been lying. She wasn’t shocked Aglion were real; she was amazed that she’d gotten to see one.

“Child, you don’t understand the danger you’re in. If the wrong vampires knew what you were—”

“I know,” Marisol interrupted, explaining that Sayah and her daughters had already seen her, though she doubted they’d known about the Aglion.

Explaining that Clara’s people were actively hunted, and that keeping them ignorant only kept them weak.

“But I also know they’re going to die like this.

I can’t let that happen when there might be answers.

” Her voice cracked. “Please. You’re our only hope. ”

For a long moment, the only sound was Marisol’s pulse thundering in her ears. Sabina watched her, eyes following the curve of her wings.

“Wilhelmina, lock the door,” Sabina commanded. “What I’m about to show you… I have kept secret with the hope that the hunt for your kind would die.” She took a deep breath like she was still debating whether she should share her knowledge.

Hel moved to the heavy wooden door, sliding multiple bolts into place with loud clicks. Relieved, Marisol withdrew her wings.

“Follow me.” Sabina headed for the spiraling stairs circling the tower several stories high. “And stay close,” she said, like a security measure might knock her off the railing-free stairs.

They climbed until Marisol’s legs burned and her lungs ached.

The stairs grew narrower, more treacherous, and she had to look straight ahead to avoid looking down.

When she imagined being perched at the top, she hadn’t counted on wobbly knees and the impending fear of plunging to her death.

Even a vampire could land badly and sever their spinal cord, dying if they fell from so high.