CHARLIE
All night I’d walked around the perimeter of Charcain’s walls, searching for another way into that damned castle.
The little blood I’d consumed had filled me with electricity, making the night come alive to my preternatural vision, making my arms and legs feel as powerful as cannons, and making my energy feel boundless, as if I could run straight up the side of a building. But it wasn’t enough.
Blood hunger still pounded in my head.
Despair and desperation raged inside me. I hadn’t gotten into the castle. I’d failed... Part of me wanted to give up. Another part felt determined enough to tear down Charcain’s walls stone by stone with my bare hands.
And yet, I thought, as my feet dragged down another rubble-strewn alleyway, maybe Essa would be better off if I left her alone altogether.
She was irresistible to me before I was a vampyre.
Now, with the blood hunger raging inside me, I’d not only want to kiss her, to touch her, to make love to her—I’d want to drink her as well.
Would she be safe around me? And would she still love me, when she found out what kind of monster I’d become?
Thus I agonized and warred with myself until by the time dawn light had begun glinting off Charcain’s glittering towers, I was in such a state that I hardly knew what I was doing anymore.
I was beyond hope. Beyond caring. And so, when I came to the main gate and saw it open, with a battalion of at least fifty Lacunae lined up in front of it, I was ready to draw my saber and rush them—to fight my way past them or die trying.
I watched from the shadows of an alleyway, steeling myself for the assault, my hand on the hilt of my saber. My legs tensed, ready to spring out and rush them.
One, two… three!
Something tugged on me, almost making me fall on my face. I looked down to find a slithering dragon tail wrapped around my ankle. Parthar watched me with bright, eager eyes.
“Let go of my foot, damn you!” I grumbled, extricating my boot from his tail. “Are you crazy? What if they see you?” Quickly, I glanced out from our hiding spot. No prying eyes seemed to have seen us in the shadows of the alley—yet.
I turned back to Parthar, trying to look stern even though—in spite of everything—I was glad to see him.
“I knew you wouldn’t stay put,” I said.
He snorted, then lashed out with his long, forked tongue, and licked my face.
“Oh, stop,” I sighed. “Now I have to worry about keeping you safe on top of everything else.”
He tilted his head, looking at me quizzically, trying hard to understand me even without simnal.
“I’m trying to get into the palace,” I said, thumbing toward Charcain’s massive walls, which rose up directly beside us.
Parthar squatted down, like a dog ready for a game of chase.
“No, this is no time to play,” I snapped. “Essa is inside, and if I don’t get to her—”
Parthar unfolded his wings. My god, they’d grown so much since he was a baby. He almost seemed big enough to…
“Could you fly us over this wall?” I asked.
He blinked at me, his wide, toothy mouth forming into something like a smile. My mind raced. I’d seen him fly, but only for short periods of time. Glorified jumps, really. I’d never seen him go half as high as Charcain’s walls. But still…
“Could you fly with me on your back?” I pressed, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. He wiggled his wings, his tail making eager loops.
I looked up at the walls again. They weren’t at their highest here, but they had to be at least sixty feet high. Could Parthar really fly us up there? Even with how much he’d grown, it seemed unlikely. But—
The sound of bootsteps drew my attention, and I peered out from our hiding place, back toward the gate. The Lacunae who had been lined up there were now scattering, fanning out with drawn weapons. Looking for me, perhaps. And at least twenty of them were coming right this way.
Shit.
“Alright, kiddo,” I said, stepping to Parthar and throwing a leg over his back. “Let’s hope you can really pull this—”
I bit my tongue instead of finishing the sentence, because Parthar bounded forward, pumping his wings, and leaped into the air.
We bobbed to a height of about fifteen feet—then dropped again, sinking back down until Parthar’s hind legs touched the ground.
He gave a growl of annoyance, then crouched and sprang again, his wings pumping furiously.
“Come on! You can do it!” I exhorted him, with another nervous glance out into the courtyard. The Lacnuae were almost here.
But we were dropping again, spiraling to the ground like a fallen leaf.
“It’s okay, buddy. You tried,” I said. “We’ll just have to—”
But he gave a snort, issuing a puff of smoke from his nostrils.
He ran, but not toward the wall. He bounded away from the wall, toward a two-story inn that stood next to us.
This time, when he leaped and pumped his wings, he grabbed the second-floor window frame with his front claws and thrust himself upward, twisting in the air and sending us back toward the wall, pumping his wings again.
He pushed off Charcain’s wall, back toward the inn, pumping his wings, then sprang off the inn’s roof, back toward the wall again.
When we hit it, we were still only halfway up.
Parthar pounded his wings furiously, his claws scrabbling against the stone.
We dipped. A foot. Two feet. But Parthar redoubled his efforts.
And slowly, inch by inch, we began to rise.
“You’re doing it,” I gave a mad laugh. “You’re doing it!”
A Lacuna arrow clacked off the wall next to us, then another. But they were too late.
A few more pumps of Parthar’s wings and he was able to hook his foreclaws on the top of the castle wall.
With a grunt of effort, he pulled us up.
A startled Lacuna guard stationed atop the wall gave a shout and ran toward us, his sword drawn.
I reached for my gun, but Parthar was faster, blasting him with a puff of flame that sent him tumbling.
We turned our attention to the castle.
“Alright,” I said. “Somehow we have to get into the—”
Before I could finish, Parthar opened his wings and leaped, gliding toward a window in the palace wall. We smashed through it in a shower of glass and tumbled to a halt on the stone floor.
It was one hell of a chaotic entrance, but we were in.
I rose, brushing myself off. I was cut in a few places, but overall, okay.
Parthar got to his feet, too, and shook himself like a wet dog, giving off a shower of broken glass. I patted his head.
“Nice. We’ve gotta work on those landings, though.”
I wheeled, taking in the room. It was long and high-ceilinged, with bookshelves covering the walls—some sort of a library, I guessed. Nobody else was here. There were only two doors, both of which were very narrow—obviously too small for Parthar to pass through.
I turned back to him. “I have to find Essa. Are you going to be okay? Can you find your way out?”
He huffed impatiently and nudged me with his snout, a gesture that said, go!
“Thanks, kid,” I said, patting him on the head.
Drawing my sword, I ran toward the nearest doorway, but a puff of flame caught my attention. I looked back to find Parthar huffing and aiming his head toward the other door like a pointing dog.
“This way?” I said.
He snorted again.
Always trust the intuition of a dragon. That’s what the Skrathan said, anyway.
“Thanks,” I said, running to the other doorway.
I threw it open and sprinted down a hallway.
Through a sitting room. Down another hallway.
I had no idea where the hell I was going, but I felt like I had to follow my gut.
Between my dragon intuition—whatever was left of it—and my vampyre senses, I had to be able to sense Essa somehow, right?
Especially now that she was close—so near, I felt I could almost smell her, could almost feel her silky hair slipping through my fingers, almost taste her lips, her—
I burst into another room—and found at least a dozen sword blades pressed against my chest. Lacunae knights.
I started to spin, to retreat, and found four more knights with spears at my back.
Ahead, behind the row of armored brutes, a trio of Gray Brotherhood mages stood, their hoods up and their hands raised, ready to unleash their dark magic on me.
Behind them, a pair of huge clay golenae stood, misshapen monsters with fire for eyes.
And standing amidst them all—stood Prelate Kortoi.
Fuck.
“Charlie Inman,” he said. “The great Silver Wraith. We’ve been expecting you, my friend. I know you have a date with Essa—but I’m sorry to tell you, you’re going to be late.”