Chapter 28 Marcus #2
“I cannot believe you would come here and slander him.” Her voice rises, echoing off the marble and tapestries.
“Maximillian once saved my life. When the sun caught me, when I was too weak to move, he carried me to safety. If he wanted power, if he truly hungered for the throne, he could have left me to burn.”
Murmurs ripple through the seats, some of disbelief, some of unease. Dorian’s jaw tightens, his gaze snapping between us and his sister. Augustus lowers his eyes, unreadable, while the advisor watches like a hawk, his expression giving nothing away.
I open my mouth to answer, to push back, but the words die in my throat as the air shifts.
We all hear it at the same time. A sound. Low. Distant. Wrong.
We have superior hearing to vampires, but they are clearly reacting to the way we are still, heads cocked, ready for danger.
Alaric leans forward, eyes narrowing, his voice a controlled rasp. “What is it you hear?”
I shake my head, throat dry. “I don’t know.” The truth tastes vile in my throat. Whatever it is, it’s getting closer.
“Do you smell that?” Leonard mutters.
Then it hits me. My eyes widen, but before I can speak or warn anyone, a deafening explosion tears through the chamber.
I’m thrown against the wall, my ears ringing, body reeling.
The impact knocks the breath from my chest, and for a moment, all I hear is the high-pitched whine that says I have a concussion.
Then the roar of stone giving way drowns it out, and sunlight pours in.
The ceiling caves, showering us with debris.
Screams tear through the chamber as vampires scatter in panic, their skin blistering and peeling in the sudden blaze. The acrid stench of burning flesh fills the air. Excavators claw open the earth above, widening the gap in the ceiling, making sure there’s no refuge.
Leonard slams into the ground beside me, coughing hard, but he’s already pushing up to his feet, hackles raised, his body trembling with the instinct to shift.
Minerva isn’t so lucky, she crashes into a bench and doesn’t rise immediately, dazed and bleeding from a gash along her temple.
Esmerelda snarls, dragging her upright, shielding her body with their own, teeth bared and ready to attack anyone who gets too close.
As I get up to help Esmerelda, I discover Belvedere has landed farther down the chamber, buried beneath a collapsed tapestry rod.
He swears under his breath, shoving the weight aside, his face set in grim focus.
Even with blood running down his cheek, his mind is working, his eyes darting, assessing, gauging a way out.
Serafina, the vessel, is already moving.
She’s quicker than the rest of us, rolling to her knees, bow in hand.
Her first instinct is defense—an arrow at the ready, scanning the breach above as if expecting attackers to drop in through the giant chasm.
Next to her, a vampire wakes in a daze. The glow catches her face, and she jerks away from it, cursing, throwing herself toward the deeper shadows of the chamber.
Minerva wakes, and we regroup fast, instinct pulling us together, protective growls rumble low in our throats.
Belvedere pushes free of the rubble, staggering but steady, eyes jerking toward me like he’s waiting for direction.
Serafina presses herself against the wall, her silhouette taut and ready.
All around us, vampires flee blindly, clawing at doors that won’t open, their blistered hands sizzling on metal handles as if scorched by holy fire. Rocks rain down in chunks, shaking the floor beneath our feet.
This is bad. Very, very bad.
Rage surges through me. When I get my hands on Maximillian, I’ll kill him. This was a trap.
Across the dais, Victoria is desperately trying to free Augustus from beneath a fallen stone.
I look around to see what we can use to hoist the boulder but Esmerelda doesn’t waste a second.
She reaches Victoria in two strides and cocks back her arm, landing a fist square on Victoria’s jaw.
The vampire goes out like a snuffed candle.
I move beside Esmerelda, but one look tells me the truth—the boulder’s too heavy, even for both of us. Augustus meets my gaze, a grim, knowing calm settling over his features.
“Get her out,” he rasps.
The skin on his neck is already smoking. We don’t argue. Esmerelda hauls Victoria up, and I grab her free hand, dragging her toward the shadows as Augustus’s scream follows us—a sound cut short by sunlight.
Esmerelda’s face contorts in shock, but she quickly schools her features. “We have to move,” she says, hoisting Victoria over her shoulder in one swift move.
“Damn, I think I just got a chubby.”
I turn on Leonard and growl.
He immediately raises his hands in defeat. “I’m kidding, man.”
Fuck, now I feel like an idiot. I quickly tell myself I reacted out of respect for one of our pack, and that it has nothing to do with the sinking ball of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.
“Leonard! Help me!” Alaric calls from where he’s pinned under a statue. Together, we heave it off him, tossing down a jacket to shield him from the sun. All around us, vampires are screaming for help. The room is almost covered in sunlight. I rush to help them as Serafina blasts the doors free.
“Marcus, you can’t save them. We have to go.” Leonard helps Esmerelda with Victoria and they rush to the corridor.
I whip my head around the room, bile stinging my throat as vampires burn to ash.
Dorian begins to crawl off the dais, but a beam of light hits his skin, and within seconds all that remains of him is ash.
Bending, I scoop Alaric up. Half-carrying him, we stumble into the catacombs, our footsteps pounding against the damp stone.
The air down here is heavy and stale with dust and age.
The walls close in around us, torches sputtering in their brackets with the threat that any moment now they will snuff out.
Alaric’s weight hangs at my shoulder. He’s not a small man, and with every step, it feels like he’s getting heavier. The heavy gold chains clink with each stumble, a grim reminder that the leader of one of the most powerful covens is now barely clinging to consciousness.
“Dorian? Augustus?” he rasps, voice faint.
“I’m sorry.”
The last ounce of strength leaves him. “Left. Then down,” he croaks.
We obey, no time to second-guess. Leonard fans out, taking point, ears pricked for any sign we’re being followed.
Serafina takes up the rear, her bow half-drawn, arrow ready in case Maximillian’s forces flood the tunnels.
Belvedere keeps close to Esmeralda and Min, his face unreadable, though the tightness in his jaw tells me he’s already calculating how long before the next strike.
The catacombs stretch on and on, endless corridors that all look the same. My lungs burn. Sweat stings my eyes. Behind us, the dust thickens, stealing the oxygen from the air.
At last Alaric gestures weakly to a stone door.
It looks like nothing more than part of the wall until he presses his hand against it.
With a groan, it swings inward, stale air rushing past us.
Beyond lies a narrow stairway that we follow.
Finally, the early morning air hits us and I see the riverbank.
The sight of the open sky should be relief, but it isn’t. Dawn has already begun to stain across the horizon, a thin smear of gold rising against the dark.
A small boat waits at the dock, its canvas canopy scorched from neglect but still intact.
We don’t waste time. Belvedere and Leonard are first across the worn planks, steadying the craft as I haul Alaric inside and under the cover.
Victoria is laid beside him, barely conscious, her skin already smoking where the faintest light brushes it.
We pile in and push off. The boat rocks from side to side, water spilling in over the edge, but it carries us forward. Away from the compound, away from the carnage. Behind us, the faint glow of fire and the hiss of stone collapsing into sunlight fade into the distance.
By the time we reach the next dock, dawn is out in full force. Smoke curls in pale wisps from every vampire’s skin, the smell sickening. But not one of them complain. They grit their teeth, press forward, and let us drag them from the boat.
We push inside. The sanctuary’s basement door slams shut behind us, cutting off the day and the light. In the confined space, the smell of burning flesh is pungent.
Somehow, Alaric finds strength and searches the room.
His face flits from panic to acceptance in a nanosecond.
“This used to be an emergency house centuries ago. There used to be many more coffins.” His voice is ragged.
“Place Victoria in the coffin. She is our only hope for the future. Our coven will need her to lead them.”
We lower Victoria into the coffin with care, as though she might shatter if we moved too quickly. Her dark hair fans across the pillow, her skin already paling to marble. For a moment, she looks less like the heir to a powerful coven and more like a girl caught between sleep and death.
Alaric kneels beside her, his robes pooling around him, chains clinking softly in the stillness.
His gold-ringed hand trembles as he cups her cheek, thumb brushing gently along her jaw as if he could memorize the shape of her face with touch alone.
He leans down and presses his lips to her forehead, lingering there, unwilling to let go.
When he finally draws back, his eyes glisten with tears of blood.
“Will you tell her how much I loved her?”
I nod solemnly and Esmerelda wipes her eyes. “Of course.”
“My time is done,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I think I would like to see the sun one last time. Six hundred years since I have felt it on my face.”
No one argues. The room is too heavy with grief, with the weight of what’s already been lost.
Esmerelda and I move to either side of Alaric, supporting him as he straightens. His steps are slow, each one echoing through my head.
The door groans as it opens, flooding the threshold with light. For an instant, Alaric hesitates, as though gathering the strength for this final act. Then he lifts his chin, squares his shoulders, and steps forward.
The first rays touch him, and he exhales a sound that’s almost wonder. Tears of blood streak down his face as he tilts his head back to the sky. “It’s spectacular,” he breathes, voice thick with awe.
A soft sigh escapes him, almost peaceful. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, his body disintegrates. Ash scatters on the breeze, carried upward and into the wind.