11. Chapter Eleven - Sen #2
I never gave much thought to what would happen if I found my soulmate—finding one is rare, after all.
Lucero and Vidar finding theirs in such close proximity is something of a miracle.
Add Rurik and his precocious relationship with his once-dead soulmate Apollo, and the chances I’d find mine were nearly non-existent.
Yet now Teagan’s here, and all I can do is worry.
“It can be hard,” Grey says beside me, voice quiet as Lucero crouches to kiss Golden goodbye, “to be so close to your soulmate, yet so far away.”
“And how would you know?” I murmur back, never once taking my focus from Teagan.
Grey remains quiet, and soon Vidar, Lucero and I leave the mansion to find answers.
***
As is typical for most flats in the city, it’s a grey monolith surrounded by other grey monoliths. Somehow made duller in the early morning fog clinging to the edges.
The three of us sniff for any foul hint of blood mages, opening our senses to feel if powerful magic adds weight to the air.
Nothing.
“How do we get inside?” Lucero asks. We’re in a semi-circle around the locked entrance leading into the block of flats.
“I could just rip it off,” Vidar says, indicating to the slab of grimy metal that passes for a door.
“Have you ever heard of subtlety?” Luc admonishes. “We have no idea what we’re walking into.”
“I don’t care,” I say, grabbing hold of the handle to rip it from where it’s bolted into the frame. “Teagan is in danger, and we’ve waited long enough.”
Before I can do anything, the door buzzes and is pushed open.
I should be surprised when I see that no-nonsense choppy bob, yet it’s the least surprising thing that’s happened all night. “Kate Donovan.”
Kate leans against the door to keep it from slamming shut. “Took you long enough.”
“Sorry to disappoint, I was held up,” I counter. “Why are you here?”
“Who is this?” Vidar demands.
“Sen’s police officer friend,” Luc drawls out boredly.
“Detective,” both Kate and I retort.
“I knew you’d come here, and I didn’t want you to cause any damage,” Kate tells me.
I raise a disbelieving eyebrow.
Kate’s gaze shifts, and I take great pride in being able to understand that annoyed, yet hesitant expression. Because it means exactly one thing—I’m right, and my dear old pal is loath to admit it.
When this is all said and done, I’ll enjoy gloating in her face. For now, I just say, “Tell me what you’ve found.”
Kate lets out an exasperated puff of air that becomes a cloud. “I called the owner. She’d been normal when I introduced myself, but when I asked why she never rented the flat after the previous occupant died, her voice became distant, confused. She sounded like…”
“Like she’d been compelled,” Luc finishes.
Kate gives a single chipped nod. “She couldn’t say why, but was very certain it should stay empty. I came here to investigate, and for a supposedly empty flat, there was noise coming from inside.”
“We need to check it out,” I tell the others. “And you need to stay down here,” I tell Kate.
“Like hell I am!”
I send her a sweet smile, tilting my head. “Okay then, we’ll meet you at the top.”
In one swift movement, Vidar, Luc and I use our vampiric speed to sprint past Kate and up the nine flights of stairs to get to the top within seconds.
“You dick!” Kate’s echo shouts from the bottom.
Luc and Vidar move to flank the chipped front door. I press my ear to the cool white surface, and after a beat, I hear the shifting of feet. Still no hint of blood magic, no weight of power. This could be nothing, but I won’t risk turning against my gut instinct again.
Without another word, my foot connects with the door. It goes flying into the darkened flat to smash against the opposite wall in a shower of splinters.
“Subtle,” Luc says under his breath.
Ignoring my brother, I stalk inside.
I pass the little landing, devoid of any shoes despite the shoe rack, and into a living room.
The carpet is an off-white and brown pattern that belongs in the 70s; the burnt-orange wallpaper matches the armchair and sofa.
Everything smells of the dust motes that drift in the air, catching the faint light that filters through heavy velvet curtains framing a singular window.
On my right is a clean kitchen. On my left, a hallway thick with shadows. Luc doesn’t need to be told to head for the kitchen on silent feet, as Vidar and I go the other way.
A strangled gasp bursts from my throat when, without warning, Vidar sharply hauls Luc and me back.
“What the—”
WHOOSH!
Something red flashes through the air—something hardened to the point of resembling metal—and punches with a CRASH into the wood-panelled kitchen cabinet. A dark-red chain connected to the spear clinks in the ensuing quiet, held taut by whoever waits in the hallway.
“A blood mage,” Vidar growls, freeing us both.
“How?” Luc bites out. “I don’t smell the rot of blood magic.”
“I can see it well enough,” I snark back.
“Shut up,” Vidar snaps, just as the crimson spear is jerked back to its owner. Only for a second chained blade to shoot from the murky hallway, shattering wood and ceramics in the kitchen. “We need to stop the mage.”
The spear is snapped back, only for another three to fire—all chained, deadly sharp and with enough powerful force, the kitchen soon becomes a wreck.
“We need a distraction,” I whisper. “Those aren’t normal spears; that’s powerful magic.”
“Sen, you bastard!”
I turn as a very sweaty and out-of-breath Kate stumbles into the flat. She pulls up short, eyes round at the blood spears when they’re snatched back into the darkness, jumping when a new one barrels into the kitchen with a crash.
“Fuck!” she cries out.
“You don’t happen to have a gun, do you?” Lucero asks, far too calmly given the situation we’re in.
“Does it look like we’re in bloody America?!” she snaps.
Luc shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
“No, but that does give me an idea,” I say to Luc. “Remember Prague?”
Luc smirks.
Vidar groans. “Oh, for fuck sake—”
I push Vidar into the path of the hallway, and a moment later, he’s speared through the stomach.
“Oh my God!” Kate screams, his blood splattering her clothes.
“Fucking offspring,” Vidar grunts in pain, then grabs the chain with two hands, giving it one sharp tug.
There’s a yell as a figure comes barreling our way. Luc easily grabs hold of them, my forearm immediately wrapping around their neck.
“Let me go!” shouts a male voice, and I finally get a look at our blood mage.
For all the trouble he’s caused, he’s a little thing. Almost pretty with his brown hair flying over his dusty brown skin, elfin-looking with his pointed features. Angry light eyes and a flaring button nose, spittle coming out between his clenched teeth as he struggles.
“This is our blood mage?” Luc scoffs. “He’s a kid.”
“I am not a kid!” he hisses.
“Is exactly what a kid would say,” Kate replies, lip pushed up in disgust when the spear lodged in Vidar melts. The blood is darker than normal, and splashes onto the carpet in a puddle of gore.
“Why were you attacking us?” Vidar asks, voice a pained grunt. His hand drops to the back of an armchair for support as his wound heals.
“Answer us now, or I’ll torture you, and then you answer,” Luc tells our captive. “You’ve already ruined my clothes, don’t ruin the rest of my day.”
“You can’t torture him! It’s against the law,” Kate shouts.
All of us—including our blood mage—eye Kate like she’s lost a couple of marbles.
“I don’t know why I bloody bother…” she grumbles.
“You broke into my home. I’m defending myself!” the blood mage barks out like a petulant prince.
His scent is normal, nothing like the usual rotted stink of blood mages. Even stranger, he doesn’t have a spellbook with him either.
The steady thud of feet meeting the floor draws our attention. Collectively, we turn to the hallway.
A second man emerges from the hazy dark. Every muscle in my body surges with adrenaline, and I release my hold on our blood mage to level a glare on this much bigger threat.
“I’d prefer it if you’d let my friend go.” His lilting Welsh accent should make his lovely voice a song, yet every syllable is cut with a mocking inflexion. Like he’s laughing at you, and you’re too stupid to understand why.
“You,” Luc snarls.
“Bran,” I breathe out, fists clenching.
“Maker,” Vidar spits. “What are you doing here?”
Bran stops to be framed by the doorway. His dark brown hair and pale skin are stark within the shadows pulsing around him.
“Been a while, offspring,” Bran says, the corners of his mouth slice into a grin to reveal bone-white teeth.