Page 172 of Loreblood

Garroway scoffed. “Aren’t you the one who said names and titles are how rebellions are discovered, Master? That they’re bad for business?”

Skartovius slid toward Garro and tipped his chin with his thumb, to stare down into his eyes. “The time of hiding is over, cub. Mistress Mortis will not wait long to strike again, now Sephania is out in the open. We are at war. The quicker the rest of you realize that, the sooner we can act to accomplish our goals.”

From the edge of the bed, I glanced at my bickering mates, drawing their attention to me. “Hellwhore.” I snorted. “It’s not the most flattering title, I’ll admit. But I can’t deny its power.”

“Before long, no one else will be able to deny your power either, little temptress.”

That evening, the plans for our reckless Tanmount raid began.

“It’s a ten-story structure surrounded by bank buildings, notoriously under-guarded,” Vallan explained.

The axe-wielding behemoth was our tactician for this particular mission. He hovered over a map spread across a table—the floor plan of the Tanmount—jamming his finger down at various levels of the meticulously drawn design.

“You make it sound so easy, brother,” Skartovius pointed out. He stood near the back of the conference room, while Vall, Garro, and I inspected every inch of the layout, huddled over the design map.

It seemed, despite his leadership qualities, Skar was not as interested in the minutiae of strategizing this plan to recover the Relic.

Vallan said, “Getting inside will be simple. That’s my point. Finding the Relic before our heist is discovered and the Red Butcher’s garrison is called into action is another measure entirely.”

“How long do you think we have?” I asked.

“Who’s to say, silverblood? Ten minutes? An hour?”

“A handful of minutes to parse through ten levels is nigh impossible,” I replied with a heavy sigh. “An hour is a bit more promising.”

Skar laughed from behind us. “Are you forgetting about our greatest weapon, my dear family?”

I was surprised he seemed so lax and cheery about this mission. It was frustrating the spirits out the rest of us. “Me?” I asked blithely.

“No, not this time, little temptress.”

“Then what?”

“Notwhat. Who.”

“Zefyra,” Vallan said lowly.

I looked around in confusion. “The turned Chained Sister? How . . .” I trailed off as a memory seized me: my first instance of Vallan’s cruelty, killing the interfolk miner Ethera, making a statement, a promise to her, first.

“Her name is Zefyra. She works the Tanmount in Berrigen Square. Managed to get out from under silver two years ago.”

“Turning the girl has elevated her position within the Tanmount,” Vallan explained, stealing me from my thoughts. The ploy appeared to spread through his mind as he quieted, elaborating on Skartovius’ words. “As a human, she had been a slave on the lowest levels of the ladder, never given any responsibility within the building. Now, she can help us.”

“Quite good, isn’t it, love?” Skar asked me with a smug smirk, using one of his customary catchphrases.

I stared at the two vampires suspiciously. “Just how long have you two been planning this scheme?”

They shared a look but said nothing, which vexed me. Clearly, they were keeping things from me. I couldn’t blame them, I supposed, since I had proven myself impulsive, reckless, and dangerous.

“Zefyra can get us in,” Garroway said, “that’s grand. Can she help us pinpoint the Relic’s location? Does she even know what the damned thing looks like?”

His somber question brought the room back to reality. Vall and Skar gave the dhampir shrugs of doubt and scowls of anger at his forwardness to call them out.

“Can we trust her?” I asked, and eyes swiveled to me, questioning and amused. “You said it yourself, Skar: You don’t trust anyone. This seems like a lot of faith and confidence to be putting in someone only marginally connected to us.”

“She’s not wrong,” Garroway mumbled.

Skartovius squared his shoulders, looking like the handsome, charismatic, regal general he was meant to be. “We have worked tirelessly over the past months to arm the resistance with silver weapons smithed by Vanison Shirin from Nuhav. The human gangs are ready for action at the drop of a copper coin, for distraction purposes. We have learned the entrances and exits of the Tanmount, gotten hold of a detailed floor plan, and meticulously noted every guard watch, shift change, and name of the people watching this silly construct. We cannot be more prepared.”