Page 33 of Blood Legacy (Eternal Descent (MistHallow Academy) #1)

33

FELIX

Magick crackles at my fingertips like static electricity. It’s been hours since Gaida left us, and something feels off. The medallion’s spellcast replica sits on my desk, and I can’t stop staring at it, trying to piece together the puzzle of The Equilibrium and what it means for all of us.

I have a gnawing feeling that it isn’t as big a part of this equation as we first thought. It’s a sideshow. The real deal is Gaida, and whatever is happening to her, which I’m growing convinced by the second, doesn’t have anything to do with this clandestine group of idiots who think they can engineer a goddess among vampires. Because that’s what this is really, isn’t it? They are trying to emulate the First vampire, but they didn’t need to. She was already destined to exist, right here, right now in Gaida. The question I have that is bugging the shit out of me is whether or not Gaida is actually an ancient force reincarnated or is she simply a pawn in the bigger game, a powerful vampire with latent properties that skipped several generations until it reached her. A worthy vessel? A female Aragon? Both? More?

Frustration wells up, and I slam a bolt of dark magick at the opposite wall, feeling the satisfaction when a large chunk drops out of it. I watch curiously as the wall repairs itself, slowly and meticulously.

“Oh, you are a marvel, aren’t you?” I murmur.

Pain lances through my chest, and I draw in a sharp breath before dropping to my knees. Gaida .

I stagger to my feet, clutching at my chest. It takes me a moment to realise that the pain isn’t physical, it’s emotional. A tidal wave of something so intense it’s overwhelming my soul. The sensation is raw, primal, and unmistakably Gaida’s. But there’s something else intertwined with it, something ancient and powerful.

Blackthorn.

The flash of jealousy that strikes me is quick, disappearing almost as quickly as it came. They are inevitable. This connection was inevitable. I didn’t expect it to affect me, but their souls have touched, bonded, which means mine has been touched as well.

I reach out with my magick, sensing the energy signatures around me.

My fingers trace the medallion’s replica, considering my next move. The smart thing would be to wait, to let them have their moment. But something is pulling me toward them. A connection I can’t explain, like a cosmic thread tugging at my core.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, pocketing the medallion and heading for the door.

The campus is quiet, blanketed in snow that muffles my footsteps. The moon hangs low and full, casting everything in silver light that makes the world look like it’s been carved from marble. I make my way toward the East tower, drawn by an instinct deeper than conscious thought.

As I approach, the air grows heavy with power. The stones of the tower vibrate with it, resonating with whatever is happening inside. I pause at the base, looking up at the dark windows. What am I doing here? This isn’t my moment.

I should leave. Turn around and walk away. This is private.

Instead, I place my palm flat against the cold outer stone of the tower and close my eyes. When I make contact, a vision flashes through my mind of Gaida and Luke, their bodies entwined, blood and power flowing between them in a circuit of ancient magick. The rawness of it takes my breath away.

But there’s something else. A third presence in the room, invisible to them but clear to my sorcerer’s sight. A shadow watching from the mirror, observing with cold calculation. Not physically there, but scrying, its essence thin and wispy like smoke.

My blood runs cold. Someone is spying on them.

With a jolt, I break the connection, my magick surging defensively. I trace a protective ward in the air, sending it spiralling upward to surround the tower. It will disrupt the scrying, cut it off. It’s a temporary measure, but it’s all I can do for her now.

The ward flies from my fingertips, shimmering gold and black as it encircles the tower, zipping in through the stone to find its destination. As it settles into place, I feel the watching presence recoil slightly, its focus sabotaged by my interference.

“That’s right,” I mutter. “Back the fuck off, arsehole.”

I lean my forehead against the tower wall, maintaining the ward while keeping a portion of my consciousness alert for any change. The cold stone grounds me as I extend my senses, trying to identify the watcher. There’s something familiar about the magickal signature, something I’ve felt before but can’t quite place.

Franklin.

The name of my former academy slams into my head. This signature was all around me in my last few weeks, swirling around and around as if seeking something. As abruptly as it appeared, it vanished. I never felt it again until now.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” I murmur.

The signature disappears like smoke in the wind, slipping through my ward as if it were nothing more than an amateur attempt. Whoever is watching them is powerful. It’s more powerful than I’d initially thought.

I mutter a curse and strengthen my ward, pouring more of my energy into it. The effort makes my vision blur momentarily, but the barrier holds firm this time. I can sense the watcher probing at its edges, searching for weaknesses.

“Try harder, fuckface,” I hiss, reinforcing it with a blood sigil quickly drawn on my palm with my athame.

The presence retreats, but I don’t trust that it’s gone for good. Whoever it is, they’ll be back.

When I’m confident the watcher isn’t returning immediately, I reluctantly lower the ward, leaving only a thin thread of my magick in place, enough to alert me if the presence returns. I need to tell them what I saw, but not now. Not tonight.

As I turn to leave, movement catches my eye. A figure stands at the edge of the quad, watching me. Even at this distance, I recognise Dante’s silhouette.

“You felt it too,” he says as he approaches, his breath misting in the cold air. Strange for a vampire, but then purebloods are a whole different breed. One I’m unfamiliar with, to my growing disgust.

I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Something was watching them. Scrying.”

“Any idea who?”

“No, but I’ve felt that signature before, at my old academy. It’s powerful, ancient.”

“Lucius,” Dante murmurs.

“Who?”

“Lucius LeClerc. Luke’s sire.”

“Hmm. Let me guess. Ancient, powerful, cruel, likes things he can’t have?”

“Likes things Luke has,” Dante adds carefully.

“Gaida.”

He gives me a look that tells me all I need to know.

“Could be him. He was at Franklin before I left.”

“Got kicked out, you mean.”

“Parted ways mutually,” I grit out.

Dante snorts. “How do you mean he was there?”

“His magickal signature. I can see now it’s forced slightly. It’s magick that isn’t inherent. It’s bought. Temporary. Powerful because his strength is so great, but still not his.”

“Really?” Dante murmurs. “So he’s not actually a sorcerer.”

“Not naturally, no. Vampires can’t be sorcerers. It’s a genetic incompatibility.”

“Yet Blackthorn has some ability.”

“Don’t get me started on Blackthorn. His mage abilities are… incongruous at best.”

“But you’re sure Lucius doesn’t have this?”

“If that was Lucius, yes.”

We stand in silence for a few moments, both staring up at the tower. The connection between us feels strange. It’s not quite friendship, not quite rivalry, but something bound by our mutual connection to Gaida.

“They’re bonding,” Dante says finally, his voice tight with an emotion I can’t quite identify.

“Yes.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

I laugh, the sound hollow. “Whether I’m okay with it is irrelevant. It was inevitable.”

“And us?” Dante asks quietly.

“Also inevitable, I suspect.” I turn to face him fully. “Look, I don’t know what this is; this thing between the four of us. But I know that what’s happening up there isn’t excluding us; it’s part of something bigger. That’s why we felt it. We are involved.”

He nods slowly.

“I’ve been thinking about The Equilibrium and about what you said about Gaida,” I say, changing the subject to more comfortable ground. “You’re right. They’re not the main event. They’re just spectators who think they’re directors.”

He looks interested. “I was speculating. What have you got?”

“Think about it. If they could engineer this so-called Blood Sovereign through selective breeding, why has it taken them centuries? And why Gaida specifically? There’s something else at play.” I pull out the medallion replica, turning it in my fingers. “This is just a symbol of their delusion.”

Dante takes it from me, examining it closely. “My father said something similar. That they’ve been chasing shadows.”

“Exactly. I think Gaida’s power is something they’ve been trying to replicate, not create.” This thought had only occurred to me in the last few seconds.

“To what end?”

“Several vampires with these powers at the same time. Gaida is the hub, and they want little sub-hubs orbiting around her.”

“Facts?”

“Speculation.”

He grins. “We have a lot of that. But it makes sense, in a way. Why have one vampire in control who might reject their plans when they can have many who think alike.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, I take it back.”

I frown at him. “Take what back?”

“My thought that you were a dumbass.”

“Thanks. I still think you’re a complete idiot.”

“Well, it’s not completely outside the realm of reality.”

I narrow my eyes. “Fishing? Didn’t take that to be your style.”

He shrugs. “Just trying to work out where we stand.”

“We stand wherever Gaida needs us to,” I reply, surprised by how certain I am of this. “Something’s coming. Something big. And we’re all going to need each other when it does.”

“Poetic,” he scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it.

“I’m many things, DuLoc, but poetic isn’t one of them.” I step away from the tower, feeling suddenly drained. “I need to sleep. I’m fucked.”

Dante nods, and we walk back across the courtyard in companionable silence. The snow has stopped falling, leaving the world pristine and quiet. It feels like the calm before a storm.

As we reach the fork where our paths separate, Dante stops. “Felix.”

“What?”

“Don’t do anything stupid on your own.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Define stupid.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Is this you being worried about me, DuLoc? I’m touched.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s me being worried about Gaida. And, by extension, the rest of us.”

“Fair enough.” I turn to leave, then pause. “Same goes for you.”

“Aww, does this mean we are friends now?”

“You wish,” I mutter and use my magick to transport me up to my room, breaking through wards that want to dampen my magick. A feeling of unease settles over me. I can’t quite pin down what it is, but something is off, and I’m nowhere near close to finding out what it is.

Yet.