Chapter 12 Let The Game Begin
Let The Game Begin
Grayson crouched by some bushes. He could see that there were two “guards” at the well-lit front doors and there were another two that were circling the building at regular intervals.
He would go into the building while Mairead would run interference to get the guards away from the secret basement entrance that Grayson would be using to get inside the Helm mansion.
The location of the treasure maps was on the third floor.
Amana would be available on the ground to catch the maps if Grayson feared getting “captured” or believed it would take too long to exit.
The faster those maps got to Eiji, the faster they would be able to plan their next moves.
He, Nero and Rachel were sitting on a nearby bench, chatting.
Already, Grayson saw other teams of players hiding in various bushes, behind trees, giggling or being soberly serious. They didn’t have the advantage of the blueprints. But they also didn’t have a guard lingering around their objective either.
The basement entrance is covered with vegetation, but she’s just standing there. Shifting from foot to foot. She’s not even yawning. Wide awake and alert.
There were no phones that worked in the Ever Dark and walkie talkies had not been provided. He wasn’t sure those would work either. And since Balthazar couldn’t be used as a go-between either–that would be cheating, Grayson!--he had to hope that Mairead saw what he saw and headed out to intercept.
And he didn’t have long to wait. Mairead suddenly dashed out from the side of the building, waving several pieces of paper in her hands above her head, as if she had come out of the Helm mansion.
“Guys, I got them! I got them!” Mairead called gaily to… no one.
She was simply pretending to have gotten the maps. The guard jerked straight and pivoted towards her. When Mairead “discovered” there was a guard there, she let out a squeak of “surprise” and started to run badly as the guard took off after her. The guard wasn’t the only one who chased.
“Oh, my God, how did she get the maps?” A student gasped.
“I don’t know. But let’s stop that guard and get her!” Another student suggested.
“You take the guard and we’ll take the girl,” a third student ordered.
The three of them took off after Mairead and the guard. Mairead cast a glance over her shoulder. When she saw the guard and the students chasing after her, she really started hoofing it. No longer was she acting like a person in a horror movie. Now she was like a marathoner.
Grayson didn’t waste time. He immediately ran to the bushes that hid the basement entrance.
He kept low and slid along the ground the last five feet.
The soles of his shoes hit the edge of the entrance.
It was something akin to a storm cellar that many farms in the Midwest of the United States.
There were several ornamental bushes around it and vines had crawled over the two doors.
So far everything was going according to plan until Grayson went to open the doors and found the heavy-duty padlock.
The options of ropes, crowbars, lockpicks or other accouterments of thievery had not been provided.
That was likely a smart idea. The idea of people breaking windows or doors, hanging precariously off of buildings and more was likely anticipated.
Though Grayson knew that there were Vampires everywhere, watching them all very closely.
But not this closely.
Grayson closed his hand over the lock and used his powers to simply break the hasp. He picked up the remnants and stuffed it into a pocket.
Grayson, you’re being so naughty! Balthazar chuckled, evidently watching through his eyes.
Do you disapprove? Grayson asked as he opened the one door to reveal a staircase leading down.
Not at all. I am so enjoying this cut throat side of you, Balthazar said.
Grayson slipped inside, closing the door behind him.
He did have a flashlight, which he switched on as he walked down the stone steps.
The steps led him into a basement room with vaulted ceilings.
He saw one wall containing wine bottles lying on their sides.
Likely, they were the ancient blood wine, which strangely was still good such as the stuff Ryder had found in his palace.
There were crates marked with glyphs burned into their sides that caused Grayson’s eyes to blur if he stared at them too long.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he was near one crate that had an infinity symbol on it.
Could it be one of Daemon’s magical weapons?
Grayson’s hand hovered above the top of the wooden crate. With his powers, he could easily take off the top of the crate and see what was inside. He swallowed deeply. What mystery was inside? He gritted his teeth and turned away from it. This was likely a real treasure.
Focus on the current task, Grayson reminded himself then sent to Balthazar, Make sure Daemon knows about this crate. It shouldn’t just be sitting here.
Yes, I tend to agree. I’ll have it removed tonight, Balthazar promised. What do you suppose is inside?
Don’t ask me that! I’m having a hard enough time as it is getting away from it!
Even now, Grayson found himself turning towards the box. A coppery taste was in his mouth as he did so and a stab of weakness went through him. He quickly backed away, wiping a hand over his brow that came back coated with cold sweat.
I believe that whatever it is drains life, Grayson said. From mortals anyways.
Get away from it, Grayson, Balthazar sounded stern. I will make sure that it is taken somewhere safe.
Trembling slightly, Grayson fully wrenched himself away from the crate.
By the time he found the staircase that led up into the mansion, he felt himself again.
He crept up the stairs and reached a door.
He put his ear against it and listened as hard as he could.
He was truly missing his Vampiric senses at this moment.
He heard nothing, whether that was because there was nothing or no one was truly there was unclear, but he put a hand on the door handle and cracked the door open.
Warm air redolent with the scent of cinnamon wafted over to him. It made the cold, wet air of the basement more apparent. He was sure he was causing a draft. Hearing nothing–like someone saying, “Stop, intruder!”--he slipped through the door and closed it behind him.
He rested his back against the door as he again listened. He was standing in a hallway. There were warm, mahogany wood floors beneath his feet as well as wainscotting. Oil paintings adorned some of the walls. There were vases full of flowers sitting on antique tables.
He knew from the blueprints that he needed to head to his left to find yet another staircase that would take him up to the third floor.
Satisfied that no one was going to simply come upon him at any second, he crept down the hallway.
The cinnamon scent came from the many red candles that were lit and set strategically to cast warm pools of light as if to light his way to the stairs.
Thinking on it, it likely was meant to do just that. The Helm wanted people to succeed.
Grayson froze when he saw the front doors to the Helm mansion ahead of him.
There were two guards with their backs to him, though at that moment, one of them turned to the other and Grayson dove behind a potted plant.
They were laughing and smiling as they spoke.
Neither fully looked back into the house through the glass-fronted doors, but he wasn’t going to move until they turned back around to face forward, but then he heard some footsteps coming up behind him.
Fuck!
He kept low to the ground and practically rolled himself around the edge of the bottom of the banister before taking the stairs two at a time.
His heart was pounding so hard that he couldn’t hear if he was being followed by the time he got to the third floor.
Whatever it was in the crate had taken more out of him than he’d thought.
Shaking it off, he glanced down the third-floor hallway.
There were a dozen doors, a few open, but most were closed.
He knew that the door he was looking for was the fourth down to the right.
It was closed. He started down the hallway when he saw two figures coming towards him from the other end.
He dove into the nearest open room and hid behind the door.
“... are you sure?” A female voice asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure. We’re not students here, Tasha!” The man's voice answered with a touch of irritation mixed with exasperation.
“But we were told that being Acolytes was another way to become Vampires,” she argued.
That was true. At least it had been in the past, but it was rarer than most Acolytes would have liked even back then. But he didn’t know what the modern Vampires were doing. His understanding was the students were the only way.
“If you want to be certain of turned, mine is the only way,” the man answered.
“But those Vampires aren’t even in the city,” she answered. “That means they’re not following Daemon, right?”
“God, could you not be so loud? Any Vampire could hear you,” the man groused.
“You brought it up!” she sounded disgusted. “And they aren’t in the mansion.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just… look, if you want to find out how to really be turned then you should meet us at…” His voice drifted away as they passed by.
Balthazar, I assume you heard that, Grayson sent.
I did. They will be picked up along with the crate, Balthazar muttered. I should send you sneaking into places more often.
Do you think they’re meeting with someone from the Sect or just with some angry Vampires who don’t want to be part of the school? Grayson asked.
Could be either. In fact, it could be nothing at all. But we’ll see when I look–