Page 23

Chapter Twenty

New York City…

Going to the underground city feels like descending into an old, familiar nightmare.

The mausoleum entrance stands before us like a hungry mouth, eager to swallow us whole.

The leering carved faces on the tombstones are judging me for coming back.

I’ve been this way before, but never with such dread in my stomach.

Strange, since I was mortal the first time.

If I listen, I can hear the city all around us.

At first, it’s car horns and the hum of engines stuck in traffic.

Beneath that, I pick up pieces of random conversations.

It’s unsettling how much privacy humans don’t have from supernaturals.

I wonder how many of my conversations have been eavesdropped on.

“Tamara?” Costin touches my shoulder.

“What is it?”

The city has so many smells.

Many of them unpleasant.

Still, I take deep breaths, letting it overload my senses.

“Tamara?”

“I wasn’t outside long when they took me from your underground palace to the estate. It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? All these people. So many lives. So many heartbeats.”

“Do you need to feed again?” His hand becomes heavier as if he’s preparing to stop me.

“I didn’t say I wanted to eat all the people,” I chuckle.

Costin already made me gorge myself, and he gave me a canteen to carry as backup.

He’s worried that if I get too drained, I’ll go feral like I did in the library.

“I kept my wits when we fought the zombies. I’ve found balance. I’ll be fine.”

He frowns as he studies my face.

I can tell he wants to warn me not to get too cocky, but I do feel fine.

He nods once.

Cold stone.

Cracked door.

The scent of damp limestone and magic lingers in the air like rot under fresh flowers.

Yep, just like we left it.

The vines haven’t grown back over the entrance since Costin cleared them last time.

That feels like a century ago, even though, technically, it was just a few months and several near-deaths ago.

I run my fingers along the edge of the door, remembering the way it hummed the first time we touched it together.

A pulse of dark enchantment, ancient and alive.

It doesn’t do it now.

Maybe because I’m different.

Maybe because it recognizes me this time.

“The butterflies are gone,” I whisper.

“What does that mean?”

“I used to see them everywhere, even here. I think they were Lorelai’s magic guiding me when I was human. I just realized they’re gone now.”

“Lorelai doesn’t have magic. She’s human.”

Why does he keep looking at me like he’s analyzing everything I say for mistakes?

“Human magic. Charms, spells, a mother’s love,” I explain.

“She kept an altar for me in her home.”

He nods, but he’s on high alert.

The tension rolls through our bond.

“Home sweet hellmouth,” I joke, turning toward the door.

Costin doesn’t correct me because that’s essentially what this place is.

It’s a gateway to the underground supernatural city, where all manner of goblins and ghoulies reside, a place that appears to have clawed its way through time just to prove it’s still relevant.

Still dangerous.

Still here.

And we’re going back in.

Costin moves silently beside me, his face a mask of control.

As a human, I remember thinking that he must be emotionless, a cold-hearted predator.

But there is a veritable sea of emotions hiding inside of him.

The bond between us pulses with shared purpose, but beneath it runs a current of fear.

I’m scared of what I’ll find.

Astrid and my father would not have gone with Elizabeth willingly.

Well, at least Astrid for sure.

“She’ll expect us,” Costin says as we approach the entrance.

“Elizabeth never moves without planning several steps ahead.”

“Good,” I reply, flexing my fingers.

“I’m tired of being surprised.”

I feel him about to correct my bravado.

Pebbles skitter across the graveyard path and we both turn to look.

Nothing is there.

The telekinetic power I discovered in the church crypt hums beneath my skin, new and unpredictable.

I haven’t told Costin exactly how it feels but it’s like ice in my veins, spreading through me with each passing second.

The vampire detachment grows stronger with it, making my emotions feel distant, almost academic, like I had expected his emotions to be.

I should be terrified for Astrid, but that fear begins to settle.

Instead, I find myself calculating angles of attack, escape routes, and weaknesses to exploit.

My heartbeat is steady and calm, and so loud it’s like a metronome in my ears.

The wolf in me still snarls with protective rage, but the vampire’s cold logic is gaining traction.

We slip through the mausoleum, descending the spiral staircase into darkness.

The first time I came here, I marveled at the hidden supernatural world.

As a human, I needed an escort to get inside.

Now the magical barrier recognizes me, and I move through it like I belong, another predator in a city of monsters.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

And the metronome remains steady.

The main plaza spreads before us, buzzing with supernatural activity.

At our arrival, an eerie quiet spreads like a plague.

The beings scatter like exposed bugs under a lifted rock.

The walkway becomes clear.

The city’s not silent, though.

There’s a low buzz beneath everything.

A drip here, a scrape there.

Somewhere, a creature giggles, and I don’t want to know why.

“The vampire quarter is this way,” Costin says, leading me down a narrower passage.

This is a path we hadn’t been before.

The few beings we pass give us a wide berth and avert their eyes whenever I look at them.

I feel their unease.

The wolf senses it in their smell.

They know something has shifted in the social hierarchy.

From alcoves and archways, and broken balconies that hang over the underground alleyways like rotting teeth, they watch us.

Some are perched on high beams.

Others crawl or slither.

A few hover in ways that defy human physics.

I can’t name all the creatures.

Some look like nightmares scribbled in the margins of a forgotten tome.

I don’t look away, and I have to admit, it feels awesome to have them scared of me for once.

Two men wear the shapes of people, but their skin doesn’t quite fit, and their eyes are too black.

Next to them are walking skeletons with no skin at all, just bone and sinew stitched together by old magic.

They don’t speak.

Unlike the others, they just stare, like they’re trying to decide if I’m prey, threat, or entertainment.

Maybe all three.

Thump - thump.

Thump - thump.

And the metronome goes a little faster.

“Elizabeth would take them to the central gathering hall.” Costin moves like he owns the place.

Of course he does.

Master vampire.

One of the elites.

This city knows him.

Fears him.

“She’s always had a flair for the dramatic. She’ll expect us to arrive through my home, but I’m sure she’ll have this route covered as well.”

The architecture grows more ornate.

I haven’t been to the vampire section of the city before, but it looks exactly as I would have assumed.

There is some predictability to the supernatural world.

Gothic arches and elaborate ironwork are like the Old World transplanted from the Medieval period.

If I had to guess, I’d say the vampires were living some kind of heyday back then, as desperate as they cling to that imagery as a whole.

It’s kind of pathetic, really.

Like the football hero from high school who spends the next fifty years talking about that one touchdown from his bar stool soapbox.

Guards stand at the entrance, but they step aside at the sight of Costin.

His status as master vampire still commands respect, even as his sister attempts to usurp his authority.

I stare them in the eye when I pass, feeling that icy calm in my veins.

They don’t scare me, but I sure as hell frighten them.

They lower their eyes to me.

The gathering hall lives up to its name.

It’s a vast chamber with high ceilings and blood-red banners hanging from the walls.

Vampires line the periphery, some I recognize from my parent’s country parties, others are strangers who watch us with hungry curiosity.

I wonder if they will try to fight me.

I smile.

I’d like them to try.

A tremor works over me, and a wooden table shakes a little, drawing my attention.

“Elizabeth,” Costin states.

I whip my head around to the far center of the room.

Elizabeth is seated on a throne of carved obsidian.

I have to give it to her, she knows how to look the part.

She is resplendent in crimson velvet with lipstick to match.

Her dark hair is slicked against her head.

She’s the true picture of deadly beauty.

Beside her throne, seated in less elaborate chairs, are Astrid and my father.

Their arms are locked at their sides and they’re not moving.

Neither appears injured, but their postures are rigid with tension.

And standing at Elizabeth’s right hand, looking smug despite his recent disgrace, is Uncle Mortimer.

Costin tosses the pendant he found in the study at his sister.

She catches it with one hand, not taking her gaze from him.

“Ah, brother,” Elizabeth purrs.

“And your lovely progeny. You got my invitation.”

“Enough. Release them,” Costin demands without preamble.

Elizabeth laughs, the sound like crystal shattering.

“Who says they’re not here willingly?”

Astrid’s eyes dart to the side, but she doesn’t move her head.

“Fine. I might have slipped a little something into her cocktail.” Elizabeth waves her hand in dismissal.

“I said let them go,” he orders.

“As your master.”

I flinch.

Yeah, no woman wants to hear that bullshit coming out of a man’s mouth.

“So direct. So boring.” Elizabeth groans.

“Where’s your sense of occasion? I went to all this trouble.”

I scan the room, assessing those gathered.

There are at least thirty vampires, all likely loyal to Elizabeth.

No werewolves.

I doubt any of them are willing to back her up after she tore the heart out of the Alpha.

Near the back wall, I spot Anthony being restrained by two hulking vampires, his magic apparently suppressed somehow.

The cold in my veins freezes.

I’ve about had it with this bitch.

My eyes meet Astrid’s.

Her face betrays nothing, but I see the subtle blink she gives me.

She has a plan.

Of course she does.

She’s Astrid.

“What do you want, Elizabeth?” I ask, stepping forward to stand beside Costin.

“What everyone wants, darling.” She smiles, all teeth.

“Love. Understanding. A warm meal.”

Her minions chuckle.

Elizabeth smirks and corrects herself.

“Power. Security. A seat in the new order.”

“New order?”

“The old ways are dying,” she says.

“The council is nothing but a bunch of lazy relics high on their own myths. Leviathan’s attack exposed how vulnerable we truly are. He should never have been allowed to gain so much power. They should have known how many souls he collected over the centuries and what that would mean to a necromancer’s magic.”

She pauses as if she’s waiting for me to argue.

What can I say?

The bitch has a point.

“The werewolves have a new Alpha. The magics are scattered and leaderless, for now, isn’t that right, Mortimer?” She glances toward my uncle’s smug face.

“Change is coming, whether we embrace it or not.”

“And you thought kidnapping my family was the way to convince me to embrace it?” I can’t keep the skepticism from my voice.

“I mean, Mortimer you can have. I could care less what betrayal you have in store for him. The other three are coming with me.”

“I prefer to think of it as creating an opportunity for dialogue,” she replies.

“Your family is enjoying my hospitality while we discuss the future.”

“Some hospitality,” I mutter, noting a flash of subtle magical bindings around Astrid’s wrists.

Elizabeth leans forward, her expression suddenly earnest.

“Tamara, I’ve watched you since your transformation. You’re something entirely new, a hybrid that shouldn’t exist, yet does. Your power is growing, evolving. I can feel it from here. Your vampire blood is settling. You feel it too, don’t you? That cool, perfect chill.”

I say nothing, but inside, the ice spreads a little further.

She’s right.

Whatever happened in the crypt with Conrad and the freed spirits has changed me.

Costin glances at me, frowning.

“You need guidance,” Elizabeth continues.

“Control. Understanding. Who better to help you than someone who’s lived for centuries?”

I look at Costin.

“I could tell you stories about my brother’s help,” she says.

“You need someone who knows both vampire and werewolf nature intimately? Someone who won’t try to oppress you.”

“You tried to kill me,” I remind her.

She waves a dismissive hand.

“Ancient history. Maybe I was just testing you, proving to you what you are capable of. The question is what we do now, moving forward.”

“She’s right about one thing,” Mortimer interjects, his face alight with ambition.

“The supernatural world is changing. Those who adapt will thrive. Those who cling to the old ways will perish.”

“Like you adapted by making deals with necromancers?” I counter.

Mortimer’s smile doesn’t falter.

“Leviathan served his purpose. A necessary distraction while Elizabeth secured her position.”

I know he’s lying.

It’s so obvious.

How am I the only one who appears to see it?

He’s an opportunistic prick.

He probably has deals going with Leviathan, Elizabeth, Thane, and gods know who else.

“You want me to believe you two planned all this? You sent Leviathan after us so Elizabeth could make her move.”

“Clever girl,” Mortimer approves.

“Go fuck yourself, Morty,” I answer, drawing laughter from some of our audience.

“This is your backup-backup-backup plan. The Freemont betrothal failed. Your rebellion failed. Leviathan failed. Now you’re here. It’s pathetic.”

“Tamara,” my father states, standing.

“That’s enough. Let’s keep things civil so we can come to an understanding.”

It’s then I realize he’s not being held prisoner like the others.

What a sad, pathetic man.

How did I think so highly of him?

The cold creeps deeper.

I’m so tired of this crap.

Elizabeth grins.

“I wouldn’t say planned. More like we seized an opportunity. When Mortimer found himself suddenly without allies, we discovered our interests aligned.”

Costin puts a hand on my shoulder.

“And what exactly are those interests?” His voice is dangerously soft.

Elizabeth stands, descending the three steps from her throne to approach us.

She moves with grace, every gesture formed of centuries of habit.

“A new hierarchy,” she says.

“One that acknowledges the changing balance of power. Vampires at the top, naturally. Werewolves will be offered their place as our martial force, guided by their new Alpha, who I understand has a certain fondness for our hybrid friend here.” She gives me a knowing look.

“Magics will retain their place as advisors and record-keepers. All under my leadership, of course.”

“And where do I fit in this grand vision?” I ask.

“I thought you’d be Alpha. Imagine my surprise when you gave all that power to Sully.” She leans closer.

“We can undo that, if you wish?”

She points a nail at her neck and makes a slashing motion as she offers to kill Sully.

“Pass.” I look at her, but my mind is tracking everyone in the gathering hall.

“So be it,” Elizabeth says, clearly disappointed.

She straightens and resumes her performance for the others.

“As my protégé. I can teach you to control your growing powers, Tamara. To master them rather than be mastered by them.”

I feel Costin tense beside me, though his face remains impassive.

“And what about him?” I nod toward Costin.

Elizabeth’s smile turns cruel.

“My brother has his uses. But his time as master vampire is over. He’s grown soft like the others.” She steps closer to Costin, her eyes flashing red.

“Haven’t you, my lord?”

I feel the sire bond between them twisting painfully.

It’s older and darker than the one I share with Costin.

“Kneel,” Elizabeth commands, her voice layered with supernatural compulsion.

To my horror, Costin’s body jerks, fighting the command but unable to resist completely.

He drops his head forward and he bows, face contorted with the strain of resisting her will.

Slowly he drops to a knee.

“You see?” Elizabeth turns to her gathering, triumphant.

“This is the truth of the sire bond, Tamara. This is what awaits you if you follow him. You will never be free. You’ll always be his, just as he is mine.”

The ice in my veins spreads, crystallizing my thoughts.

My heartbeat slows.

I look at Costin, at the proud master vampire brought low by the bond he can’t break.

Is this my future?

Eternally bound to his will, just as he is bound to Elizabeth’s?

Sure, he gives me free rein now, but what happens in ten years?

A century?

How long will love last?

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Elizabeth continues, her voice softening.

“Join me. I can help you break free of his influence. To control your own destiny.”

For a moment, just a moment, I consider it.

The vampire detachment makes Elizabeth’s logic seem sound.

Power.

Freedom.

Control over my own fate.

I also know the cost.

The only way to be free of such control is to kill Costin.

I can’t do it, but Elizabeth can.

I look at Astrid, still watching me with those knowing eyes.

At Anthony, struggling against his captors.

At my father, who can’t even meet my gaze.

And at Costin, fighting Elizabeth’s command with everything he has and failing.

Something shifts inside me.

The cold calculation of the vampire and the protective instinct of the wolf realign, creating clarity.

I can see Elizabeth now, really see her.

Not just her physical form, but the twisted soul beneath.

Centuries of pain and rage and thwarted ambition, all channeled into an obsession with control.

She doesn’t want to help me.

She wants to own me, just as she owns Costin.

I step forward, placing myself between Elizabeth and Costin.

“I’ve seen enough,” I say, keeping my voice calm.

“Release him.”

Elizabeth laughs.

“Or what, little hybrid? You’ll throw a tantrum? You’re powerful, yes, but untrained. Undisciplined.”

“Perhaps,” I agree.

“But I’m learning.”

I reach for the power that’s been building inside me, the cold crystalline strength from the vampire, the primal ferocity of the wolf, and now this new force, born from the freed spirits.

They flow together.

The chandeliers above us begin to sway.

Glasses on side tables vibrate, then shatter.

The vampires along the walls shift uneasily.

“What are you doing?” Elizabeth demands, taking a step back.

I don’t answer.

Instead, I direct my focus to the magical bindings around Astrid’s wrists.

They unravel like ribbon, falling harmlessly to the floor.

I do the same for Anthony, freeing them without moving from my spot.

“Impossible,” Mortimer whispers, his face pale.

“She has no magic.”

“She is magic,” Astrid says, rising from her chair.

“She always has been.”

Elizabeth’s expression hardens.

“Stop this, Tamara. You don’t understand the forces you’re playing with.”

“I understand enough,” I reply.

“I understand that you don’t want to help me. You want to control me just like everyone else. I will not be Mortimer’s magical broodmare for the Freemonts. I will not be Alpha. I will not be Leviathan’s queen of the hybrid army. I will not be your puppet or your protégé. How many times do you people need to hear the word no ?”

The sire bond between Elizabeth and Costin twists visibly now, a dark red thread connecting them.

I reach for it with my mind, not to break it— I don’t have that power —but to momentarily disrupt it.

Costin gasps as the pressure eases, rising to his feet.

His eyes meet mine, filled with a mixture of pride and concern.

“This isn’t over,” Elizabeth hisses, backing toward her throne.

“You have no idea what’s coming. No idea what forces you’ve set in motion.”

“Maybe not,” I acknowledge.

“But whatever comes, I’ll face it on my terms.”

Elizabeth’s eyes dart around the room.

The tide has turned.

The vampires who moments ago seemed firmly under her control now look uncertain, some even fearful of the power I’ve displayed.

“Mortimer,” she snaps.

“We’re leaving.”

My uncle doesn’t need to be told twice.

He scurries to her side, all dignity forgotten in his haste to escape.

“This is merely a strategic retreat,” Elizabeth says, her voice hard.

“Remember that, brother. Remember who made you what you are.”

“I remember everything,” Costin replies.

“Every moment of the past five hundred years. And I remember what you were before Marcus turned you. Before the darkness took root.”

Something flashes across Elizabeth’s face.

Pain, perhaps?

Or a fleeting memory of humanity long buried?

Then it’s gone, replaced by cold fury.

“This isn’t over,” she repeats, backing away.

The vampires part for her, creating a path to the exit.

“Not by a long shot.”

She and Mortimer disappear through an archway, followed by their most loyal supporters.

The remaining vampires look to Costin, then to me, uncertain where their allegiance should lie.

“Go,” Costin commands, and they obey, filing out until only our family remains.

I rush to Astrid, checking her for injuries.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she says, straightening her already impeccable clothing.

“Your uncle’s betrayal is far more painful than anything Elizabeth could inflict.”

My father finally looks at me, his expression unreadable.

“That was…”

I arch a brow.

“…impressive,” he finishes.

From him, it’s high praise.

Anthony joins us, rubbing his wrists where the vampires had restrained him.

“Remind me never to piss you off, sis. That was some serious power you just threw around.”

I should feel relief.

We faced Elizabeth and emerged victorious, at least for now.

My family is safe.

Costin is free of Elizabeth’s immediate control.

So why does this hollow feeling persist?

Why does part of me remain cold, detached, calculating the next move as if this were a chess game rather than my life?

“Tamara?” Costin’s voice pulls me back.

His hand touches my shoulder, warm despite his vampire nature.

“Are you alright?”

I look into his eyes, trying to find my way back to the emotions that should be flooding me.

Relief.

Joy.

Love.

They’re there, but muted, as if viewed through frosted glass.

“I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a smile.

“Just tired. It’s been a long night.”

He studies me, seeing more than I want him to.

“We should return to the surface. Dawn is approaching.”

We make our way back through the underground city, our strange family procession drawing curious looks from the few beings still about.

Anthony supports our father, whose energy seems depleted by the ordeal.

Astrid walks ahead, her posture betraying none of the stress she must feel.

Costin stays close to me, watching me with growing concern.

I feel it happening.

The humanity in me recedes as the supernatural powers grow stronger.

The ice spreads further with each step, making the world around me seem less real, more like a stage where I’m merely playing a part.

Is this what being a vampire is truly like?

This detachment?

This distance from human emotion?

Or is it something else?

Some side effect of whatever power I absorbed in the crypt?

As we reach the surface, the eastern sky is lightening with the first hint of dawn.

Costin ushers us toward a waiting car.

How he arranged it, I don’t know or care to ask.

“The family penthouse may not be safe,” Astrid says as we settle inside.

“Elizabeth knows all our defenses.”

“We’ll go to my sanctuary,” Costin decides.

“It’s warded against her specifically.”

No one argues.

We’re all too exhausted, too shell-shocked by the night’s events.

As the car pulls away, I stare out the window at the fading stars.

The power inside me pulses in time with my heartbeat, growing stronger with each passing minute.

I should be scared.

I should be worried about what I’m becoming.

Instead, I find myself wondering how much stronger I can get.

How much more power I can absorb.

How many more battles I can win.

The thought should disturb me.

It doesn’t.

And that, more than anything, terrifies the small part of me that’s still human.