Page 28 of Blood Legacy (Eternal Descent (MistHallow Academy) #1)

28

FELIX

The quiet hush of MistHallow’s library settles around me like a familiar cloak as I run my finger along the spines of ancient tomes. It’s been three hours since Gaida walked out of the lab, and I’ve been sitting here researching and finding absolutely nothing useful about Blood Rights. Not a single reference, not even a footnote. My frustration grows with each useless volume I examine. Gaida’s dad said you had to look in the right place, and clearly, I am not in the right place. The memory of Gaida mentioning hidden libraries resurfaces, and I pause, looking around the magickal structure of the MistHallow Academy library.

“Find anything?” Gaida asks, appearing next to me with that unnerving vampire ability to sneak up on people.

“What were you saying about cowbells?” I ask with a smile.

She giggles. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I shake my head to say she didn’t and sigh. “It’s like the information has been systematically removed. Every book on vampire bloodlines or sire bonds stops short of mentioning anything resembling Blood Rights. Your father being infuriatingly cryptic while simultaneously treating us all like we’re unworthy of the full truth is slightly infuriating.”

“I’m not so sure he’s deliberately obtuse. I think if he knew, he would at least tell Luke, and he hasn’t. I don’t think he knows anything other than what he has already told us.” She sighs and sits down, taking my hand in hers and gripping it tightly.

Even exhausted and frustrated, she’s mesmerising. The sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows catches in her dark hair, creating patterns of blue and gold.

“Maybe we are looking at this all wrong. We are searching for Blood Rights. Maybe we need to broaden the search.” I lean back in my chair, tapping my fingers against the ancient oak table. Something isn’t adding up. “Don’t you find it odd that there’s absolutely nothing about this in the main library? MistHallow is supposed to be the most comprehensive repository of vampire knowledge in existence.”

“Or perhaps the information is still here, just not in the main collection,” she points out. “Remember I started to tell you about the hidden libraries when Luke interrupted us yesterday?”

“I remember.” I stand up, moving to the large ornate window that overlooks the central courtyard. From here, I can see most of MistHallow’s complex architecture, the twisted spires and impossible arches that speak of centuries of magickal construction.

“What are you thinking?” Gaida asks, joining me at the window.

“I’ve been studying the magickal construction of MistHallow since I arrived,” I explain, tracing the flow of energy lines visible only to those with my particular sight. “There’s something odd about the magical architecture.”

“Odd, how?”

“How the energy flows. It doesn’t match the physical structure.” I point to the western wing. “See how the central tower connects to the library? The magickal channels suggest there should be additional space beneath it, but the blueprints show nothing.”

Gaida nods. “Hidden chambers.”

“Every magickal building has secrets, but MistHallow seems to have more than its fair share.”

A slow smile spreads across her face. “So, did you just find it?”

“Under here? Yeah, probably.”

“Then let’s find it.”

Her touch sends a current of warmth up my arm. The soul bond between us pulses gently, like a second heartbeat. I’m still adjusting to the sensation, this magickal tether that connects us on a level deeper than physical attraction.

“We should bring Dante,” I suggest, surprising myself with the words. Despite our initial rivalry, I’ve found myself reluctantly appreciating his dedication to Gaida. “If we’re going to be sneaking around the academy after hours, an extra vampire’s senses would be useful.”

“Talking about me? I’m touched.”

“Speak of the hot vampire,” Gaida says. “We are going on a mission.”

“Secret libraries?”

“Yep.”

“Where is it?”

“Under the library somewhere.”

“And how exactly do we access these hypothetical secret chambers?” Dante asks dubiously.

I smile, tapping my finger to my temple. “That’s where my particular talents come in. I can track magickal energy flows back to their source.”

Gaida looks between us, a slight smile playing on her lips. “Are you two actually getting along?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Dante says dryly, but there’s less hostility in his voice than usual.

My fingers weave patterns in the air as I detect the subtle currents of magick that flow through MistHallow’s walls and floors. The spell manifests as glowing blue lines visible only to me, a magickal map overlaid on physical reality.

“This way,” I murmur, following a particularly strong current that leads deeper into the library.

We move silently through the stacks, past rows of sleeping books. The magickal current leads us to a seemingly unremarkable rug covering a stone floor.

“Here somewhere,” I say, examining the magickal signatures floating around. The activity is frantic, which shows me that I’m on the right track.

“How do we open it?” Gaida asks, looking down and then crossing over to the corner of the rug. She lifts it and peels it back to reveal ancient symbols etched into the stone.

“Nicely done,” I murmur and crouch down. “It’s keyed to respond to certain magickal signatures. Headmasters, probably, and perhaps senior faculty.”

Dante snorts. “So we’ve found a door we can’t open. Brilliant.”

“I didn’t say that,” I reply, already working on a counterspell. “Magickal locks are just puzzles waiting to be solved. The question is whether we can solve it before someone notices us tampering with it.”

My fingers dance through the air, teasing apart the intricate threads of the locking spell. This is what I excel at: magickal problems, patterns to decode, and systems to unravel. Minutes pass in concentrated silence as I work.

“There,” I finally mutter as the last thread comes loose. “That should?—”

The floor gives way, plunging the three of us into a penetrating darkness. We drop fast at first, but we slow down before we hit the bottom.

“Holy shit!” Gaida’s voice cuts through the darkness. “A bit of warning would’ve been nice, for fuck’s sake.”

I flick my fingers, creating a ball of light, but it flickers and splutters as if dampened. “Hmm. Magick isn’t tolerated down here for the unworthy.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dante asks.

“Water magick is dampening my power. Droplets in the air, invisible to anyone who isn’t inherently able to pick up on this stuff.”

“So water magick dampens all magick?” Gaida asks. “Good to know. Are you adept at water magick?”

“I can hold my own,” I reply with a smirk and switch elements from fire to water. The watery orb feels steadier, even if it gives off less light.

“We must be well beneath the academy now,” I estimate, noting the changing quality of the stone around us.

A massive iron door emblazoned with the MistHallow crest and surrounded by arcane symbols shows us the way forward.

“Through there?” Gaida gulps.

“Yeah, I don’t like the look of that,” Dante mutters.

“This is serious magick,” I warn, examining the protections. “Blood wards.”

“Can you break them?” Gaida asks.

I shake my head. “Not without setting off every magickal alarm in the academy. This isn’t just a lock; it’s a fortress door.”

Dante steps forward, studying the ornate handle. “What if we don’t need to break in?” He points to a small basin set into the door. “This looks like a blood offering plate.”

“Blood verification. But whose?”

“Luke’s?”

“Or founder’s blood,” Gaida says quietly, stepping forward. “The Aragon family were among MistHallow’s founding patrons. If this chamber predates the modern academy...”

Understanding dawns. “Your blood might grant access.”

I hand her my athame, and she makes a small cut across her palm. The blood wells up, dark and rich, carrying that strange golden thread I’d seen in the laboratory.

When the first drop hits the basin, the effect is immediate. The door shudders, with ancient mechanisms grinding to life. Symbols carved into the iron flare with golden light as they recognise the blood of a founder—or the bloodline, at least.

“Blood will tell,” Dante murmurs.

The massive door swings open, revealing a cavernous chamber beyond. My light sphere floats ahead, illuminating row upon row of shelves filled with ancient texts, scrolls, and artefacts. The air shimmers with preservation spells, keeping the collection pristine despite centuries of neglect.

“That was easy,” I mutter.

“Too easy,” Dante mutters back.

Gaida steps through the doorway, her expression awestruck. “All this knowledge, hidden away for centuries.”

“Look at these texts,” Dante says, joining her and carefully lifting a bound volume from the nearest shelf. “Some of these must predate the academy itself.”

I move deeper into the chamber, drawn to a central pedestal where a massive tome lies open, its pages glowing faintly with their own inner light. Suddenly, it slams shut, and the chamber shakes under our feet. “Yeah, it doesn’t like us being here.”

“Guess you fooled it enough to open the door, but it’s caught on,” Dante adds.

“You speak about it like it’s a living thing,” Gaida grits out, ducking out of the way as the rows of books crash down around her and Dante.

“In a sense, it is,” I reply, raising my hands to cast a stabilisation spell. The water in the air responds to my will, forming a protective barrier around us as more shelves topple. “Libraries this old, especially magical ones, develop a kind of consciousness over time. They absorb the intent and energy of their creators.”

The ground beneath us trembles more violently. Books fly from their shelves, pages fluttering like angry birds.

“We need to get what we came for and get out,” Dante shouts over the growing chaos. “Gaida, any idea what we’re looking for?”

“No! I don’t have a clue!”

“We need to move,” I murmur.

“Too late,” Dante grits out as shadow beings emerge from the floor.

“Guardians.” I’m more curious than afraid. That is until one of them launches at me and screams in my face. “Yeah, okay, let’s move.” I duck around it and grab Gaida’s hand. We run to the door and come to a dead stop when a figure appears in a swirl of magick in front of us.

His gaze sweeps over us, taking in the scene with ancient, knowing eyes.

“Find what you’re looking for?” he asks dryly.

“No. Can you help? Or are you here to stop us?” Gaida replies, unapologetic.

Luke glides into the chamber, and it immediately settles, the Guardians returning to their resting places, comforted by his presence. His expression reveals nothing of his thoughts.

“You could have just asked,” he says with a disapproving tone. “Instead, you choose to break and enter a sacred place that you have no place being in.”

“Look. We could’ve wasted time coming to you. Would you have helped?”

He swivels to look at me. It’s unnerving, but I don’t drop my gaze. “I would do anything to help Gaida.”

“Then help,” she says. “Luke. Whatever is happening, it’s connected to me and my legacy. Help us find out what it is so we can either stop it or be prepared if the end of the world is coming.”

“The book on the pedestal. Why did it slam shut when I tried to read it?” I ask Blackthorn.

“Because you aren’t meant to read it.”

“Okay, fair point. Why?”

“For starters, you aren’t a vampire.”

“But Gaida can read it?” I press. I know whatever we are looking for is in that book. It is currently sitting innocently on the pedestal, but it is far from being amenable. I sense a dark and old power seeping out of the parchment. One that gives me seriously bad vibes.

“I doubt it,” Luke says. “But I can.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Gaida snaps.

He chuckles and approaches the pedestal with extreme caution. I can’t say that I blame him. “Bloodlines of the First: Origins and Powers. It explains about the original vampire, the First as we know it, and how their blood contained the template for all vampire magick.”

“We,” Gaida narrows her eyes, and I sense an undercurrent that chills the room as Blackthorn looks up at her with a cold smile.

“Yes, we.”

She nods, and whatever tension she is holding onto disperses.

Risking moving in closer, my curiosity gets the better of me. I study the diagrams accompanying the text. They are intricate depictions of blood magick and bonding rituals.

Luke glares at me but moves aside to give me a better look. Barely. “According to this, when the First began creating other vampires, each new bloodline represented a branch from the original template. The further removed from the source, the more diluted the power,” he says.

“Which explains why purebloods from ancient lines have stronger abilities,” Dante concludes.

“And why the Aragon line, in particular, might carry Blood Rights,” I add. “I’m guessing the Aragon line was the first.”

“You are correct,” Luke says.

“One who carries the primal template can restore broken bonds or form new ones where none existed before. Their blood contains the essence of the First, allowing them to stabilise those who have lost their connection to their sire.”

“That’s what you did with the feral vampires,” I murmur. “Your blood temporarily restored the pattern their bodies recognised as a sire bond.”

“And with you.” Her eyes bore into mine, and my cock goes hard. If we were alone, I would claim her right here, right now.

But we aren’t, so I ignore it.

“That makes more sense,” Luke grits out.

“Than what?” I enquire with a glare.

“Than the two of you forming a rare bond that shouldn’t exist.”

We lock gazes, but I don’t back down. He wouldn’t respect me if I did, and regardless of anything else, he is the alpha in the room and in Gaida’s life.

Luke looks like he wants to roll his eyes at me but instead breathes in and goes back to reading. “A vampire with Blood Rights can form temporary bonds with those who have lost their sire connection, but repeated exposure creates a permanent bond, stronger than a sire bond.”

“So if those feral vampires keep drinking my blood...”

“They would eventually become bonded to you instead of their original sires,” Luke finishes for her.

I’m not sure when I started thinking of him as Luke rather than Blackthorn, but it seems right.

Dante’s eyes narrow. “It would make you incredibly powerful. A pureblood who could command the loyalty of turned vampires outside their own lineage? The political ramifications alone are staggering.”

“No wonder your father kept this secret,” I murmur, studying her face in the gentle glow of the magickal texts. “With this ability, you could theoretically build a power base to rival the entire supernatural world.”

Gaida shakes her head, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “It doesn’t explain why this is happening in the first place, though. Is someone behind it? Is it prophesied to just happen? We have no idea what we are dealing with here.”

“Luke?” I prompt when he doesn’t answer.

“Excuse me?” he snaps. “It’s Professor Blackthorn to you.”

“Luke, don’t,” Gaida says, shaking her head. “He is part of my life. You have to accept that.”

He grunts but doesn’t reply.

“So we aren’t really any closer than we were,” I say. “None of this is really massive news.”

“No, but this is,” Luke says grimly, glaring up at Gaida before his expression turns almost fearful.

“What?” she whispers.

“This is neither manufactured nor a prophesy as such.”

“Then what is it?”

“You.”