Page 49

Burt and Clive met Percy at the service elevator, their eyes wide with triumph and bloodlust.

“The transport’s ready,” Burt whispered, practically vibrating with excitement. “We actually did it!”

“Dark Haven will reward us beyond imagination,” Clive added, staring at Luca’s glowing form with undisguised greed.

Percy let them chatter as they wheeled Luca through the chaos of evacuation. Their stolen transport waited in the parking structure, its engine running. By the time anyone realized Luca was missing, they’d be long gone. Sometimes the simplest plans worked best.

As they pulled away from the hospital, Luca stirred slightly, a soft whimper escaping his lips. His power flared weakly, reaching for something—or someone. But his precious Whitlock brothers weren’t here to save him.

The transport plunged into the entrance of New Vale’s Underground Transit System—or UTS, as every supernatural called these ancient highways.

Unlike the crowded surface streets above, these magically enhanced roads were reserved for supernatural vehicles, protected by wards and security checkpoints.

Magic scanners flickered over their stolen transport, and Percy held his breath. But their forged credentials held.

“Engaging supernatural drive,” the vehicle’s AI announced. The engine’s pitch changed as enchanted crystals activated, power thrumming through the chassis.

In the back, pulses of light escaped from beneath the blanket covering Luca’s unconscious form.

“Keep it steady,” Percy ordered as Clive’s hands slipped on the wheel for the third time. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I…” Clive blinked rapidly, his eyes reflecting starlight though the artificial lights of the UTS streaked past at impossible speeds. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Like… singing. No. Like…” Clive’s voice cracked. “Like my mother’s lullaby.”

Another wave of light washed through the transport. Burt pressed his forehead against the reinforced glass, tears streaming down his face. “I remember now. The night of my blood oath. How proud Father was when I swore to protect the innocent…”

“You’re both pathetic,” Percy snarled, but his hands shook on the crystal-enhanced steering wheel as Luca’s power sparked another memory—Percy’s own oath, the weight of responsibility, the pride of nobility…

“Exit the lane.” Clive’s knuckles went white on the dashboard. “Percy, please. He’s making me remember who I used to be and I can’t—” His voice broke on a sob. “I can’t bear it.”

“He’s barely more than a child,” Burt whispered, reaching back toward Luca before snatching his hand away. “Gods, what are we doing?”

“Exactly what they did to us,” Percy snapped, but the light pulsed again, and for a moment Percy saw himself through Luca’s power—the monster he’d become, the honor he’d abandoned, the darkness that had consumed the noble he’d once been.

The transport rocketed through the UTS’s speed-enhanced lanes, magical barriers blurring past. Ninety minutes of fighting not just Luca’s power, but their own awakening consciences.

Ninety minutes of memories they’d drowned in blood and bitter wine.

The few other vehicles they passed swerved wildly, their drivers drawn by Luca’s light, eyes filling with wonder before they could shake off his power.

Percy took the southern branch of the UTS, following signs toward the Blackthorn territory, but at the last junction before the Gothic Quarter’s checkpoints, he swerved onto a maintenance exit.

The transport’s suspension groaned as they left the enchanted roads behind, bumping onto a narrow dirt track that wound through the ancient graveyard forests that marked the edge of Shadowmere territory.

“Are you insane?” Burt gripped the dashboard. “This is Death District! The Shadowmere guards?—”

“Are occupied with the new moon rituals.” Percy’s smile was cold. “Even death angels must observe their sacred duties.”

They crashed through twisted trees untouched by modern wards, where even the Shadowmere Clan feared to develop.

Dark energy pulsed around them, remnants of ancient battles between New Vale and Dark Haven.

After twenty minutes of tense navigation through the haunted woods, the trees thinned, revealing a forgotten clearing—and beyond it, New Vale’s barrier.

Even Percy’s determination faltered at the sight. The barrier wasn’t just magic—it was pure power made visible. Energy crackled between obsidian pillars that pierced the clouds, a testament to why cities remained separate, why even Dark Haven’s armies couldn’t breach New Vale’s borders.

“Sweet gods,” Burt breathed as waves of ancient power rolled over their transport. “The barrier… it’s like it’s alive.”

Luca’s light surged in response to the barrier’s magic, creating patterns that danced across their skin. Clive screamed, clawing at his face.

“Make it stop!” Clive begged. “The light—it’s in my head, showing me everything I’ve become, everything I betrayed?—”

“Shut up!” Percy’s voice cracked as another wave of light swept through him, filling him with memories of honor and nobility and everything he’d lost. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”

Dark figures materialized beyond the shimmering wall of power. The barrier crackled, ancient magic hissing warnings none of them could ignore.

“Did you bring it?” a voice called through the waves of energy. “The blood grimoire?”

Percy forced himself out of the transport, his legs shaking as Luca’s light and the barrier’s magic warred around him. “I have something better.”

The Dark Haven vampires shifted closer to their side of the barrier, their forms distorted by the rippling energy field. Magic crackled between them like heat lightning, ancient power responding to their presence.

“We had a deal,” one snarled, red eyes gleaming through the shimmer. “Lord Nightshade doesn’t appreciate?—”

Another pulse of light swept through the clearing. The Dark Haven vampires stumbled back, their expressions of cruel anticipation melting into confusion as Luca’s power reached for them.

“What is that?” another vampire whispered, pressing a hand against the barrier as if trying to touch the light. “It feels like…”

“Like sunrise,” someone breathed. “Like the first time I saw snow. Like my mother’s smile…”

“ENOUGH!” A new voice shattered the moment. The barrier’s magic surged as Dominic Nightshade emerged from the shadows, darkness rolling off him in waves. Where Luca’s light touched him, it hissed and steamed. “What game are you playing, little exile?”

Percy dropped to one knee, old habits dying hard. “My lord. I brought you something far more valuable than any grimoire.” He gestured to the transport. “Show him.”

Burt didn’t move, his face streaked with tears as another wave of light washed over him. “I can’t. Please don’t make me touch him. The light knows what we’re doing is wrong?—”

“Useless!” Percy yanked the transport door open himself. Luca’s power surged out, uncontained, and for a moment everyone saw themselves reflected in his light—the darkness they’d embraced, the honor they’d abandoned, the souls they’d once been.

The barrier itself seemed to respond, ancient magic swirling and crackling with increased intensity. Warning pulses of power sent tremors through the ground.

“Impossible,” Dominic Nightshade breathed, pressing closer to the barrier. Where his darkness touched the shimmering wall of power, shadows writhed. “A fated one…”

“Yes,” Percy said eagerly. “Look how he glows. He must be?—”

“Must be?” Dominic’s voice turned silky. “Such a claim requires… verification.” He gestured to one of his shadows. “Open it.”

Two Dark Haven mages stepped forward, pressing their hands against the barrier. Dark energy pulsed from their palms, creating a web of shadows that spread across the shimmering wall. Where their power touched, the ancient magic dimmed, creating a temporary passage.

Percy’s eyes widened. So this was how Dark Haven’s hunters crossed between territories. How Storm Gate’s traffickers stole their prey.

Dominic stepped through, his immense power making the weakened barrier crackle and spark in protest. Even diminished, the ancient magic tried to reject his presence, but Dominic merely smiled.

“Bring him to me,” Dominic commanded. “I’ll need to taste his blood to be certain.”

“But his light—” Percy gestured at Luca’s glowing form.

“Could be any number of things.” Dominic’s smile showed teeth. “Let me test his true nature myself.”

Clive scrambled out of the transport, falling to his knees. “No! The light—it’s trying to tell us something. This is wrong, we can’t?—”

“Silence!” Percy snarled, though Luca’s power made Percy’s hands tremble as he lifted the prince’s small form.

Luca weighed nothing—a delicate doll wrapped in silk and starlight.

The prince’s dark hair spilled over Percy’s arms like liquid shadow, a stark contrast to the ethereal glow pulsing beneath Luca’s skin.

Each pulse sent waves of memory through Percy—honor, nobility, everything he’d lost—until he could barely stand it.

“Take him,” Percy gasped, nearly throwing Luca at Dominic. “Before his light—just take him!”

Dominic caught Luca with predatory grace, dark satisfaction curling through the vampire lord as he cradled the prince against his chest. The little Valentine prince—the one that got away that bloody night when Dominic had slaughtered Luca’s pathetic clan.

The boy had grown even more exquisite than Dominic had imagined, all delicate features and translucent skin that seemed to capture starlight itself.