Page 51 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)

Eliza

Everything disappeared as an invisible tether bound Seraph Theorius and me together, snapping into place tautly, creating a momentary connection.

My mind invaded his, and images came through, pouring into my head with an intensity that shook me to my core. There were so many images, so many memories and experiences this Seraph had gone through, it made me feel small and young.

Theorius had lived a very long life, and I now had to search for a tiny needle in this endless haystack.

Thankfully, I had already mastered my ability, so all I had to do was mentally whisper Euphorrey’s Relics , and every memory and all knowledge Theorius had that was associated with these two words streamed into my head through the channel I had opened.

I let it pour, rushing in, knowing I would have time later, when I was safe, to sift through it all and find what I wanted.

When the last image entered my mind, I severed the link between Theorius and me with a simple mental slash. My vision returned just in time to see Theorius stumble back before he fell on the floor unconscious.

Normally, when I used my psychometry on humans or vampires, they were out for a good ten minutes, sometimes even longer, so their minds could rebuild their mental walls. But I’d never used it on a Seraph, one of the strongest creatures in all realms.

Meaning he could wake up in less than a minute for all I knew.

Which didn’t leave me much time to get out of here, but it would have to do.

Rising to my feet, I started to run.

I ran through the rows, not caring if I was seen now that no one was here, and reached the stairway hall. I then ricocheted down the stairs so fast I began feeling dizzy, thanks to the spiraling pattern, but eventually reached the second floor.

When I was making my way to the balcony I’d entered the palace through, I started hearing voices and the flapping of wings.

My heart jumped out of my chest with the realization I was being chased now and that, like I predicted, Theorius had recovered faster than anyone else I’d ever used my powers on.

Just as I reached the balcony, I heard voices echoing right behind me, telling me they now had their sights on me. Which was less than ideal, yet I could do nothing about it.

All that mattered was that I got the hell out of there.

Forcing any hesitation away, I pulled myself up on the balustrade and jumped.

Feathers fell around me as my feet hit the grass, sending reverberating shocks up my calves. I swear I heard my leg’s bones crack.

Whether it was the truth or not, adrenaline took care of any pain I might’ve felt, and I started running toward the junglelike courtyard.

By now, the sounds of flapping wings and calling voices were all around me as I was pursued. I didn’t bother looking anywhere but straight ahead, though; all I needed was to get to the portal, and I would be in the clear.

I broke through the jungle and onto the plane of grass. Malachi started appearing in my vision, which told me I was close to being caught, but I refused to let it happen. Not now, when I’d gotten what I needed.

With my heart beating loudly and quickly in my chest, perspiration covering every inch of my skin, and breaths coming out of my throat short and raspy, I saw the area where the portal was, marked by a little ripple in the air unseen by the untrained eye.

And just when I felt a Malachi’s hand scraping against my forearm, I forced myself with a jump through the portal and landed on the other side, hitting the ground with a loud thump!

I whipped my head back and saw the ripples in the air dissolving around a few Malachi hands that attempted to reach forward before the portal sealed itself completely, becoming a null.

Thank whatever divine being that’s up there that portals could only be used twice: for entrance and for exit.

Because that law of realm crossing had just saved my sorry ass.

My apartment in Portland, Oregon, was the furthest thing from neat, tidy, and welcoming. Dusty, full of cobwebs, with barely hinged doors and a creaky, sticky floor, it would easily fail any biohazard test with flying colors.

Gently putting my bag on the least-dirty surface—coffee table, of all things—I limped into the shower.

As the water cascaded over my head, surprisingly warm despite the state of this place (and the water heater), I checked my left ankle.

An ugly blue-and-purple spot blossomed on the skin, which told me it probably was broken.

Grimacing, I quickly washed my skin and rinsed it, grabbing a clean-enough towel to wipe myself dry before I limped to the dank bedroom naked (but with flip-flops, because I wasn’t that careless). When I tried to open the ancient closet, the left door came loose, and I had to put it on the floor.

Evidently, this apartment needed more than a simple cleaning. But since I was tight on money at the moment, it would have to wait. It wasn’t like I used this apartment a lot anyway.

Getting dressed in fresh, surprisingly dustless jeans and a V-neck shirt, I put on my beat-up sneakers and went to the little balcony at the back of the apartment. Funnily enough, the chair and table there were less dirty than the ones inside.

Sitting down, I looked at the road below, where many homeless people set up camp. This neighborhood was one of the worst when it came to homelessness and increased crime rates, which would be a problem for a regular person. Thanks to my abilities, I was able to take care of myself in that regard.

Leaning against the chair and closing my eyes, I used one of my aforementioned abilities to sift through the data I’d just risked my life a few hours ago to get.

Psychometry is the power to read an object by creating a point of contact—even the slightest touch would do. That’s exactly what I did when my palms touched Theorius’s chest. I created a link, a channel for my mind to reach out to his, or in that case to force myself inside and take what I needed.

Now, I was going to use the other aspect of psychometry—called cognokinesis .

I fell into the depths of my mind, though more specifically into the mental chamber where the memories I collected gathered.

It was shaped like a neat warehouse filled with wooden shelves stocked to the brim with glowing white orbs.

There were so many orbs now, after my encounter with Theorius, that the orbs filled the floor.

I sighed. There was nothing more tedious than organizing this chamber. It always left me utterly exhausted, which staying in the space within one’s mind tended to do. But organizing could wait.

I sent my mental hands toward the orbs on the floor. Picking them up was the same as trying to hold air, only this air was solid enough for me to lift. I then peeked into the memory-filled orbs, looking for the relevant information.

This process took some time, since when I first used my psychometry on Theorius, the memories I took were all over the place with no concrete theme.

It was only when I precisely looked for the keywords-affiliated memories that I received what I needed.

However, finding the latter was quite the task.

But I had all night to do this, so I took a physical breath and got right into it.

The first memory orb I activated took me into the amphitheater at the palace in Haramon. It was Theorius’s most recent memory of the trial I’d witnessed, only in this memory, I saw it from his point of view.

And when I saw the Malachi Felleya’s pretty face looking so lifeless, it made my stomach churn.

But Theorius’s emotions remained silent. He was a Seraph, after all. He was as emotionally detached as the rest of them.

The next memory was of Theorius speaking to a few Cherubs. I heard him using the language I didn’t understand, probably teaching the Cherubs something, if I went by the classroom setting.

On and on, I delved into Theorius’s memories, looking for my objective. It wasn’t until I was about halfway through when I finally found it.

The memory began with Theorius walking through a snowy forest. His wings were nestled together with a ribbon wrapped around them, probably so they wouldn’t get dirty or something like that.

It also told me this forest must not be in Haramon. Otherwise why would he bother walking and not flying? Much like vampires, the Malachi and other supernatural races preferred to keep their existence a secret from humans. A flying Malachi would definitely get attention.

Though some rare Malachi had the power to turn invisible, which made flying without being detected much easier. Specifically, I knew exactly one Malachi who could do that.

Internally shaking my head so I wouldn’t think about him , I returned my attention to the memory.

Theorius reached a small town. It seemed European in style, like those off-the-grid countryside villages in eastern Europe. Maybe Hungary? Or perhaps Kosovo? It could definitely be somewhere in the Balkans.

Either way, Theorius lingered at the edge of the town, obviously waiting for someone. When a figure walked out of one of the houses and headed toward us—Theorius and me seeing this from his point of view—I knew this was the person we were waiting for.

The person, a small, bald man with crystal clear eyes, smiled up at Theorius. “It is good to see you, Malachi,” he said in perfect English. Rare for these parts to find someone who spoke English, let alone without a hint of accent.

It told me two things.

First, this man must not be native to this town. And second, this was before Theorius became a Seraph, meaning it had to have occurred more than a few centuries ago.

“Arphiase,” Theorius said in return, and for the first time since I’d started prodding his memories, I could feel his emotions. He was curious and even a little excited. Expectant. Hopeful. That was quite the range of emotions.

The man, Arphiase, smiled at Theorius. “Would you like to come inside?”

The two walked back to the house Arphiase had come out of.

As Arphiase offered to make Theorius a drink, I couldn’t help but study the little man.

The name Arphiase was not native to eastern Europe, that much I knew.

Maybe Greek? Arphi could come from the word arche in Greek, which meant “beginning,” or “origin.”

Whoever this man was, one thing I knew. He was definitely not human. Because no human moved the way Arphiase did: elegant and smooth, flitting from one spot to another as though he were walking on soft clouds.

I got my answer when Arphiase poured himself a cup of red liquid from an oddly shaped container. That was definitely not wine.

Meaning Arphiase was a vampire.

When the two settled at the dining table, Theorius jumped right into it. “You know why I came,” he said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. “Do you have it?”

Arphiase sipped his drink and gave the Malachi a short nod before he took out a half-burned piece of parchment and handed it to him. “I took great risks to find this information,” he said quietly. “The people of Euphorrey are dangerous.”

Theorius studied the parchment, and so did I. It listed what seemed to be ingredients. Names of some types of irons and gems along with prices.

Theorius deflated, bitter disappointment rising inside him. “I wanted concrete proof,” he said, glaring at Arphiase. “This tells me nothing.”

“It tells you what kind of material they ordered,” Arphiase argued. “Material that, mind you, they have never asked for from the blacksmiths in Cairo before.”

Suddenly, the memory became an indistinguishable blur before it sharpened again. We were no longer in Arphiase’s house, but instead watching from a highway, which told me this memory had to be from recent years. Quite the time leap, but I didn’t complain.

Theorius flew through the overcast sky, using the clouds as hiding spots from human eyes. He was following a van heading into a large city. I had no idea where we were—the road signs were too far away for me to read, and I didn’t recognize this area.

It wasn’t until the van stopped near a building in the downtown area of the city that I realized what was happening.

A few normal-looking people got out of the van, the driver handing the key to the valet for parking. None of that would’ve raised my suspicions if the driver hadn’t turned around for a moment, showing me his face, which, thanks to Theorius hiding in a nearby tree, I could make out.

He was one of the Jinn. I recognized him.

Theorius waited for what felt like forever before, some time later, the valet returned the van to the front entrance. Then the Jinn came out, though they seemed to be missing a couple, and, joined by another hooded figure wrapped in a blanket, drove out of there as if their asses were on fire.

Interestingly enough, Theorius didn’t follow them. Instead, he jumped into the air, quickly hiding behind the clouds, before he landed on the rooftop of the building. Once there, Theorius and I waited again until the rooftop door opened and a man walked out.

This man I recognized too.

Because he was a vampire Lord. Lord Orion Atalon, to be exact.

And while his face was thunderous, his eyes were triumphant. Because in his hands was exactly what I was looking for. Or at least, part of it.

The Tears of Euphorrey.