Page 19 of Blood Sings (Beyond the Gloom #1)

The grandfather clock outside my room screeched like a bat, its ‘pleasant’ melody announcing thirty minutes past midnight. The Black Guild should arrive any minute.

I trailed after Selena in the dim hallway, ignoring the creepy eyes following us from the oil paintings lining the walls. Flickering candles danced in gilt-framed mirrors, the one in front of my door catching my reflection—pale skin, wide eyes, and surprisingly good-looking hair. Not bad.

Raking my fingers through the unrestrained locks framing my face, I rushed to catch up, but my boot caught on a frayed carpet edge and sent me stumbling. Thankfully, the antique side table was there to stop me from face-planting on the skirting. The priceless Stefan Luchian vase atop it teetered for a dramatic moment before crashing to the floor.

Because of course it did.

“Are you quite finished?” Selena asked, a grin stretching to her ears.

At least someone was enjoying this.

Giving the shards of what was probably the finest piece of art in this decrepit ward one last pitiful look, I marched ahead. The landing greeted me with a chorus of creaking floorboards and a waft of musty air.

I’d been too flustered the night before to notice it, and we hadn’t had time to explore. Seeing the foyer now was like unwrapping presents on Fateless Eve—if those presents were a vision plucked from the pages of history, all boxed up and ribboned in velvet. Nothing says ‘ridiculous opulence’ quite like enough gilt to blind a basilisk.

“Holy darkness,” I muttered, gripping the banister.

Selena’s eyebrow shot up, no doubt cataloging my every embarrassing reaction for future mockery.

Emerald and burgundy settees huddled against sturdy columns, intricately carved and dripping in gold. Crystal vases crowded gleaming marble-topped tables, surrounded by delicate porcelain figurines with vacant, judgy eyes. The cloying scent mingled with the musty, aged wood and burned wax, creating a heady perfume that made my head swim.

Selena’s lips quirked, humor sparkling in her obsidian eyes. “Enjoying the view, princess?”

I shrugged, incapable of masking my fascination. Subtlety had clearly died along with good taste in this place. “It has a certain… charm.”

“Don’t get too attached,” she warned, vaulting over the banister with feline grace.

Below the hanging chandeliers—untouched by electricity for the past century—and blocking a giant double door, stood the crate Gale had hauled in two mornings ago. It looked comically out of place, like a cardboard box in a jewelry store.

Selena circled it, her sharp gaze assessing every inch. “Still sealed,” she muttered. “Good. I don’t have to break any fingers for dipping into our supply.”

I held back a sigh and lunged over the railing, landing on my toes. “We can always get more. If they need it—”

Somewhere in the house, a door banged.

“Shh,” Selena hissed, tensing like a cat ready to pounce.

The air shifted, carrying a medley of scents: rain, moss, orange, marshmallows, rosemary, saltwater. My pulse quickened as familiar voices drifted from down the hall, a hubbub of bickering and laughter.

“Ready?” she asked.

I nodded and squared my shoulders. We moved in tandem, our footsteps whisper-soft on the lacquered floors. Dark wood paneling stretched endlessly to our right, punctuated by boarded-up windows that admitted slivers of moonlight. To our left, closed doors beckoned from a narrow corridor, the lingering scents heavy in the air.

My heart lurched as we rounded the corner. The ceiling dipped and rose, creating pockets of shadow that seemed to pulse with each thundering heartbeat echoing from the room ahead. Mortal hearts always sounded like they were in a rush. Probably because they had so little time to begin with.

Selena stopped so abruptly that I nearly plowed into her back. A choked laugh escaped her lips. Not the warm, infectious kind, but rather a cold, contemptuous bark that made my scalp prickle.

“Aurora, the children are home.” Her voice bristled with sarcasm. “Aren’t they adorable?”

Ever had one of those moments when time freezes, the world goes still, and it’s so silent you could hear a pin drop? It’s just you and the roaring drumming of your heart in your ears. You stand there, feeling like you’ve died a thousand deaths, only for reality to come crashing back, leaving you slack-jawed and brain-dead.

Trust me, it was not pleasant.

Especially when six outliers were staring at you like you were their next meal. Something with far too many legs crawled up my spine, and I suppressed a shudder as I imagined tiny, chitinous mouths nibbling at my skin.

Okay, maybe I was exaggerating.

But with enough firepower strapped to their bodies to level a small country and looks that promised slow, creative deaths, I felt like turning around and running for dear life. Their gazes pressed down from all sides, heavy as a steel grate.

I avoided their glares and darted my eyes around the room. ‘Functional’ was the immediate word that came to mind. The vast space, once host to grand banquets and probably a fair share of illegal bloodletting—if the smudged marks on the walls were any indication—now lay stripped bare. A lonely marble mantel stood out like a sore thumb in the emptiness, probably wondering where all its ‘pompous friends’ had gone.

Someone had shoved a long dining table against the windows, the organized chaos atop it threatening to spill onto the abused timber floors. A map of the Republic’s Outer Wards sprawled across it like a tablecloth, at least ninety years out of date and sporting dark-brown cup stains along the edges. A rock lodged in my throat, cracked, and plummeted into my stomach. Floods, storms, earthquakes—they’d all left their mark, and even the slightest terrain change could prove deadly without the accuracy of our scanners.

The Black Guild was flying blind in a storm of stakes.

Heavy boots thundered outside, and the patio doors burst open, cracking against the wall. My heart did a front flip in my chest, and I had to lock my knees to keep from stumbling backward. So much for holding my bluff.

I hadn’t wanted to meet with Harbinger after the bomb he dropped on us, but if I wanted in on the briefing—and I needed to be there if I hoped to join them in battle against the Stalkers —I had to put on my big girl fangs. Because he was a lying, mean bastard who seemed to get his jollies from making me squirm.

The room reeked of gunpowder, sweat, and Terraknight’s tart signature scent, like ripe blackberries. A hint of coffee beans and roses trailed behind. Harbinger.

My gums itched in response, my tongue darting up in an attempt to soothe them, and I hated myself for it.

“You’re late, Terraknight,” Hummingbird roared, his volume inversely proportional to his size. “Thought you stepped on a landmine and went ‘POOF’!” He mimed an explosion, slouching on a stool with his silver wings brushing the floor like cotton-white curtains.

Terraknight’s glare could have extinguished the flames of hell. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” he snarled. “Mandrake’s stiff body is still out there.”

The iele’s face drained of blood. “Ah, shit… sorry,” he stammered, clamping a hand over his mouth as if to catch the words and stuff them back in.

Gale rolled her eyes with the weariness of someone who’d heard it all before, claiming a seat by the window.

Quakelord glided away from the mantel, all smooth muscle and quiet menace. “The only constant in our world is death. Embrace it, birdboy,” he intoned, squeezing Hummingbird’s shoulder on his way to the other side of the table.

Selena hissed, “At least we found out who Mandrake is,” nudging me in the ribs just as Harbinger crossed the threshold.

I cringed so hard that I nearly pulled a muscle. Of all the times to run her mouth, she had to pick now. My eyes darted to him, and suddenly breathing became an advanced skill.

The captain strode in, tall and broad-shouldered, moving with destructive focus. Black cargo pants hugged long, sturdy legs and tucked into combat boots. The black t-shirt he had on clung to him like a glove, outlining every ridge and plane to perfect detail. My eyes roamed, tracing a path up his body, lingering far too long on the way that shirt stretched across his chest.

He groaned huskily—and Derzelas, what a sound, thick enough to touch—and our eyes clashed.

Even with most of his face hidden beneath that ridiculous cowl, there was no mistaking the tightness around his eyes or the hard set of his jaw. Annoyance, irritation, disdain—the captain was practically radiating ‘pissed off’ energy. It was like watching a thundercloud roll in, promising one hell of a storm.

I wrenched my eyes away, finding the room’s decor absolutely fascinating. Maybe there was another priceless antique I could probably break just by looking at it too hard.

Pull yourself together. He may have blood that tastes like liquid ecstasy, but he’s still a conceited, arrogant half-original. No matter how well he fills out that t-shirt or how his eyes make you feel things you shouldn’t, he’s strictly off-limits. Harbinger is a complication you can’t afford.

Remember who you are, what’s at stake.

“We’re all here. Good. Listen up,” Harbinger announced, his voice a low rumble that sent an involuntary shudder along my spine.

He halted at Terraknight’s side by the mantle. The silence that fell was as thick and oppressive as a burial shroud.

Adrenaline pumped in my veins, priming my body to jump into action. Beside me, Selena let out an exaggerated sigh that telegraphed ‘bored to tears.’ Nice try, but I knew better. It was her favorite mask against anxiety.

“Our mission: track down and neutralize the Stalkers,” Harbinger continued, his words measured and precise. “All four types, about five hundred strong. Sibiu’s main road is too narrow for a frontal assault, so they’ll likely split up and come at us from multiple angles.”

How in the Underworld does he know all this?

I stepped forward, ready to call his bluff, but Selena’s grip on my wrist might as well have been forged with steel. Her onyx eyes flashed a warning clearer than any words. Wait.

I shot her a fanged snarl that promised payback and yanked my hand free. Ligaments tore, bones cracked, then knitted back together in an instant. The dull ache lingered, a reminder that immortality wasn’t perfect.

Nothing spared us from the joys of physical pain. Sometimes, greater regeneration just meant greater suffering. But in the grand scheme of things, our wounds were as fleeting as a speck of dust in a sandstorm—here one second, gone the next.

“Shepperd?” Gale’s voice was soft as velvet wrapped around a blade.

Harbinger shook his head. “Not this time, but don’t get cocky. Limuses and Nebulas will bring the brute force up front. Glacies will hit and run. It’s the Ignises we need to watch for—they’ll be waiting to roast us when we least expect it.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing. “I can predict their moves, but be ready for anything. Keep moving—it’ll mess with the Glacies’ aim. Pick off Limuses and Nebulas from a distance, and for fuck’s sake, don’t let an Ignis get you with a Magma Lance.”

The room fell silent, Harbinger’s words settling like lead in my stomach. This wasn’t just another mission where my screens safely ensconced me. This was war, and we were about to dive headfirst into the fray.

The outliers rose as one, a united front brimming with suppressed elemental magic. Harbinger planted his feet wide, his voice a low, raspy command. “Hummingbird and Pearl, you’re suppressing fire.”

The pair nodded, already moving toward the patio doors with an eagerness that made my stomach drop. The remaining four stood waiting for orders, their eyes gleaming with anticipation like children pressed against a bloodcandy store window.

“Quakelord and Phoenix, controlling fire. Spread out along the main road.” Harbinger’s gaze shifted to the final duo. “Gale and Ember, you’re vanguard. Take the ruins. Terraknight and I will play bait.”

My heart thundered in my chest as I forced out the words, “What about us?”

All eyes turned our way, a mix of frowns and smirks that made me want to bare my fangs. Instead, I tilted my head back, meeting Harbinger’s hard gaze.

“You’re a liability,” he snarled. “There’s nothing you can help with. You’re out of your league.”

Heat bloomed across my cheeks, my fingertips itching to unleash the magic stirring beneath my skin. I bit my tongue, tasting copper. The urge to bite him, have one more taste, warred with the desire to knock him down a station or two.

This wasn’t the time, and Harbinger sure as hell wasn’t a man I wanted to fight. But I couldn’t back down either.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. “No.”

The word came out stronger than I felt, but I held my ground.

“No?” Harbinger’s eyebrow arched.

“No.”

He crossed his arms, muscles rippling beneath his shirt. “You know what I can’t stand about you? Your complete lack of sense. You’re in my house, jumping at shadows, and you have the gall to tell me ‘no?’ You’d provoke Death if you had a chance.”

I stifled a laugh.

Was that what I was doing? Provoking Death? I let my gaze drift over him, from his boots to those maddeningly intense eyes. If Death looked like this, maybe a little provocation wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Maybe Death needs a good provoking now and then,” I said. “Keeps things interesting, don’t you think?”

I darted my eyes to the others in the room. Gale watched with thinly veiled amusement, while Terraknight’s hand twitched near his strapped weapon.

Harbinger’s gaze flashed with a dangerous glint. “Interesting, huh?” His voice came like a scrape of claws on rusty metal. “Be careful what you wish for, princess. Death doesn’t play nice, and neither do I.” He raked dismissive eyes over me. “Do what you want, but don’t come crying when you can’t keep up. You don’t have your precious shadows to back you up, do you?”

A growl built up inside me. How the hell did he know about my Darklings? The room temperature dropped with the flare of my magic, and I noticed Pearl take a step back, her beryl eyes wide.

“A, I know that look,” Sel warned under her breath.

My blood boiled. This ended now. “I don’t need them or any magic to take you down,” I hissed, even as a voice in my subconscious screamed at me to stop.

The room stilled, the air thickening like syrup. Quakelord’s teeth scraped against each other, his attention flicking between Harbinger and me. “Cap, you gonna let an immortal talk to you like that?” he lashed out.

Harbinger’s lips curved into a smile that promised violence. He beckoned me, fingers curling. “Bring it on, then.”

We circled each other, floorboards creaking beneath our weight. My Blood Manipulation stretched out, an invisible web skimming the edges of his mind. I wouldn’t use it on him, but I’d be damned if I walked into this blind.

Hummingbird leaned forward, his wings rustling with an anticipation I didn’t share.

Then, like a bucket of ice water, reality doused my anger. What in the Underworld’s pits was I doing?

If we fought and I survived, I’d never uncover the truth about Projector Olaru’s death. Worse, I’d be putting Selena in danger. If I got myself killed, my quest to challenge Lev and reclaim my crown would end here, in this dusty room, over wounded pride. Father’s final request would go unfulfilled, all because I couldn’t keep my temper in check.

The realization was a bitter pill to swallow, but it cleared my head. I had a duty to fulfill, a mission to complete. I couldn’t afford to let Harbinger or my own ego derail that.

I halted, slowly lowering my fists. Choking down my pride felt like swallowing ground glass, but I forced the words out anyway. “I apologize. I’m not my own person right now,” I said, pressing my teeth together. “We both have responsibilities that are bigger than this… disagreement. I propose a truce, at least until our mission is complete.”

The admission cost me, but I kept my chin high. I’d embarrassed myself, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much it stung.

His smile widened, turning smug. Behind him, I saw Ember’s shoulders relax, the fire in her veins dimming. Her friend, Phoenix, wasn’t of the same opinion, pale blue flame sparking at her fingertips.

“I’m here on official orders to investigate the murder of a fellow projector. If you think I’m a pain, trust me, you’d hate whoever they’d send to replace me.” I met his gaze, unflinching. “I can’t afford to fight you, and I won’t use my magic. I just want to do my job and get out of here. Once I find the killer ,” I let the accusation hang in the air between us, heavy and unmistakable, “I’d be more than happy to indulge you.”

The silence raised my blood pressure. Mortal heartbeats slowed down from their frantic pace now that this standoff would end—one way or another.

I extended my hand, the gesture feeling more like surrender than a peace offering. Despite trembling muscles, I centered myself and kept my fingers steady.

Harbinger studied me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might reject my offer, might decide to put me in my place. Then he clasped my hand in his larger one. An electric shock raced up my arm, setting every nerve alight.

My breath stalled, my face battling to stay neutral, all too aware of the eyes watching me.

“Fair enough,” he said, mirth gleaming in his eyes. They flared crimson, but the gold in them blazed like twin suns. “Right now, I’m not entirely my own person either.”

We broke apart, and Harbinger nodded at the others. “Go. I’ll meet you at point six-five-A.”

The ieles mobilized, their movements a blur. Gale and Hummingbird burst through the patio doors, unfurling their wings in a dazzling display of silver and copper. My jaw dropped as I followed Quakelord’s gaze skyward, and it hit the floor when Hummingbird folded his wings and plummeted like a stooping falcon.

My muscles tensed, ready to sprint outside. It would be a wild collision for both of us, but at least he wouldn’t snap his neck and die. Before I could move, the air around Hummingbird began to churn.

Winds whipped into a frenzy, coalescing into a swirling vortex that cradled his fall. Rocks and dirt pelted the roof and windows, the wooden planks groaning under the assault. Hummingbird’s face split into a wild grin as he brushed the gaping maw of the tornado with a wingtip. In a heartbeat, he vaulted through the clouds, leaving the tempest to howl with a longing cry before dissolving into nothingness.

“Birdbrain,” Quakelord growled, but I caught a hint of admiration in his tone.

I’d encountered elemental powers before—some of the Sparrows had been formidable—but this… this was on another level entirely. “Derzelas,” I breathed. “That control is magnificent.”

Gale landed with the grace of a dove, a smirk playing at her lips. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Projector,” she quipped before a gust of wind swept her off her feet and into the night sky.

My cheeks hurt from how wide I smiled. There was a comforting quality to Gale that reached deep inside me.

Leather creaked, drawing my attention back to Quakelord. The whole house began to tremble, the floor rippling beneath our feet like a waking giant. His muscles bulged, veins standing out on his neck as he raked long fingers through his tousled hair. The earth elementalist seemed to draw power from the very foundation. A dirt path arched straight from the threshold, three feet above the grass, like a serpent rearing its head.

Quakelord stepped onto his creation without a second glance, seemingly unconcerned that the far end hung unfinished over the lawn. As he strode forward, the earthen bridge slithered across the backyard, small holes appearing and sealing themselves in its wake.

On the other side of the room, Ember muttered something about ‘unnecessary theatrics’ in her rich, exotic lilt, while Terraknight grunted in agreement.

Pearl walked to the door, flashing an impish smile that made her look far younger than her years. She stepped onto the back porch, her purple dress splitting at the sides to reveal black pants and scuffed leather boots. Planting her feet shoulder-width apart, she raised her hands inch by inch, channeling water to the surface.

The air was saturated with the smell of the ocean—an in-your-face fragrance that made my nose twitch. The varva was powerful, and she wanted everyone to know it—wanted me to know it.

Pearl glanced over her shoulder, her white-blue glowing eyes zeroing in on me. “You might want to step back if you don’t want to get wet.”

I did.

The grass frothed, tiny rivers melding into a rolling wave. I half-expected to see fish hopping in and out of it and stifled a laugh. Pearl leaped onto the crest with a whoop and surfed ahead, following Quakelord’s cheers echoing in the distance.

“See you, captain,” Ember murmured, dazzling Harbinger with a toothed smile. She walked with a slight hip roll, shoulders back, and a confident stride that showcased her curves.

She had exchanged the first night’s flowy dress for more practical attire: a dark green turtleneck, tight pants stuffed into yellow rubber boots, and her golden hair fashioned into a messy bun atop her head. Despite being only a few decades her senior, seeing her now made me feel… old .

Arms tucked into her sides, she spread her palms. Orange flames burst from her fingertips, crackling softly like tiny bonfires.

The heat hit me in the face. I licked my lips to wet them, tasting rosemary and honey in the air.

Phoenix stood at her side, her own fire burning a bright blue that turned her red hair and the freckles on her nose a dark shade of violet. She was all sharp angles: pointy elbows, prominent knees, a triangular face with a chin that could cut paper.

A patchwork of glowing veins slithered under their skin as they propelled into the night, creating a path of dwindling fire and smoke. The contrast between Ember’s warm orange and Phoenix’s cool blue was mesmerizing, like watching day and night battle for dominance.

I turned to Harbinger, a question forming on my lips, but the words died as I caught the expression on his face. There was pride there, yes, but also a haunted shadow that spoke of battles fought and comrades lost. Although he could be an asshole, he clearly cared about his guild.

“Time to move,” Harbinger’s voice resonated in the emptiness of the room.

His sudden decision to include us sent a burst of adrenaline through my limbs.

“You trust her not to run straight to the Republic?” Terraknight interjected.

My jaw went tight, molars pressing together as I fought to hold my tongue. Something felt off, a discordant note in the air that made my hair bristle. Beside me, Selena’s eyes narrowed to slits, her body strung tight.

Harbinger moved forward at a deliberate, unhurried pace and grasped the edge of his hood, the gesture deceptively casual. “Might as well see what she’s made of now,” he said. “What’s the Republic going to do? Banish me to fight their fucking war?”

Gold eyes flecked with crimson pinned mine. The intensity of them made the blood rush to my limbs. There was nothing especially threatening about his stare, but something behind those eyes made me want to raise my hands in the air and back away slowly until it was safe to run for my life.

“Besides,” he continued, a smile curling up the corners of his mouth, “I’m curious to see how our esteemed Projector handles herself when the gloves come off.”

He slipped the cowl from his head, and the sky came crashing down on me. My legs went weak, and I staggered, struggling to stay on my feet.

No. This can’t… it’s not…

A roar filled my ears, drowning out everything but the impossible sight before me.

My body rebelled, each nerve ending screaming in denial, but my eyes couldn’t lie.

He stood there, undeniable. A living, breathing contradiction.

The foundations of my existence—the truths I’d clung to—the certainties that had shaped my world, all crumbled to dust in a heartbeat.