Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
The address Mordyn had given them led them to a decrepit building. Ivy clung desperately to the crumbling bricks, an attempt by nature to reclaim what had been lost to time and neglect. Shattered windows stared blankly into the street, black voids that seemed to swallow the light.
This wasn't just an old building, though.
The hairs on Keegan's neck stood on end as he sensed the potent weave of enchantments cloaking the place. Magic wafted through the air, an almost tangible force humming beneath the surface.
The sound of footsteps drew Keegan's attention. A group of mages approached, their expressions hard with determination. All of them wore the same red cloaks, and they were led by a dragon who wore the crest of the royal family. A high-ranking officer of the city guard, no doubt.
The Mortal Rights Task Force must have passed Mordyn's information on to them as well.
"Let's get to work, people," the guard barked.
Keegan stepped back, giving them room to operate. Each mage positioned themselves at a strategic point around the building. Incantations began, words of power woven with the elegance and precision of a master artisan. Magic shimmered into being, luminescent tendrils snaking towards the invisible wards.
The air crackled with energy, and the wards began to react, a mesmerizing dance of light that shimmered and vibrated under the assault. Pulses of raw energy flared, meeting the mages' magic with resistance.
Keegan watched, spellbound, as the spells wove through the wards, seeking weaknesses and unraveling defenses.
They would get through, eventually.
Keegan closed his eyes, trying to tap into his foresight, to see what would await them. Flickers of visions flashed before him—disjointed, chaotic images of what was to come. He saw glimpses of all the victims, their faces contorted with fear. He saw Jaron, his features twisted in anger and pain. And always, lurking at the edges, was the specter of his own death, an inevitability that gnawed at him.
He came back to the present breathing hard.
A part of him wanted to linger on his own fate, but that wasn't all he'd seen.
Wards weren't the only thing protecting the building.
It was teeming with mages on the inside as well.
Keegan wanted to go and tell the guard when a storm of crows dove down from the sky and then Altair stood next to him.
Keegan's lord looked at the building, then at Keegan. "Anything I need to know that Mord didn't tell me?"
Keegan told him about the mages and let Altair take care of telling everyone else while more and more vampires appeared around them. His whole coven was assembling, it seemed.
The only one Keegan hadn't seen yet was Mordyn. Had he already found a way inside?
That was something Keegan would worry about later.
In a little bit.
For now…
"Jaron, I need to talk to you," he said, pulling his mate away from the crowd of vampires and mages.
Jaron shot him a worried look. "What is it?"
Keegan took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I'm not sure what's going to happen inside. But my visions… they're still showing the same ending for us."
Jaron's face tightened. "No."
It was all he said, a simple refusal. As if it was that easy.
Keegan loved him for that, but he also needed him to understand this. He grabbed Jaron's shoulders and rested his forehead against the dragon's, feeling the tension in his mate's body. "No matter what happens," Keegan said, "I won't blame you. Even if we can't be together after this, I want you to live your best life, free of guilt."
Jaron shook his head. "I won't hurt you. Not ever."
Before Keegan could respond, one of the mages raised their voice above the hum of magical energy. "The wards are sufficiently weakened! We can enter now!"
The atmosphere shifted abruptly. Tension thickened, an electric charge sparked between everyone present as they readied themselves for action.
Keegan exchanged another look with Jaron.
It was time to go in and face whatever was coming at them.
The air inside felt thick, almost tangible, and the scent of mold mingled with something more acrid, like burning rubber.
Jaron didn't let the stench stop him.
He was going to protect Keegan and stop Malkira. Failure wasn't an option.
Keegan moved beside him, eyes distant and glazed as he tapped into his foresight. Jaron's frustration bubbled beneath the surface—if only he could breathe fire like a true dragon-shifter, he could be useful too.
Except that it would be a really dumb idea to breathe fire in an enclosed building, of course.
A couple of mages walked ahead of him and Keegan. Jaron wondered what they planned to do when suddenly, the building erupted into chaos. Spells zipped through the air like angry hornets, leaving trails of sizzling energy in their wake.
Keegan stumbled as a spell exploded near them, and Jaron's arm shot out instinctively to steady him. "Stay close," he urged, raising his voice to be heard.
The cacophony of magic crackling and clashing around them was nearly deafening.
"That way," Keegan pulled Jaron to the left, down an empty corridor. They were splitting from the main group, but Jaron trusted that Keegan knew what he was doing. "I can find us a safe way," he said. "Down the stairs here, quick." He opened a door and shoved Jaron through it just before a part of the ceiling came down behind them.
"Fuck," Jaron cursed. "That could have…"
Keegan shook his head. "Stay focused."
They could still hear the sounds of battle not too distant from them.
"There'll be mages on the lower levels too," Keegan said. "I'll try to avoid them, but I think we need to go all the way down."
"Why are all these people helping Malkira if she's trying to end the world?"
"I don't know," Keegan said, taking Jaron's hand and guiding him onward.
Jaron followed Keegan around another corner, his senses on high alert. The sounds of battle echoed through the building, reminding him that they couldn't be taking their time about this.
Keegan held up a hand, signaling for Jaron to wait. "I need to check where we should go from here," he said, and his eyes glowed a beautiful shade of red as he delved into his visions.
Jaron nodded, taking up a defensive stance. He scanned their surroundings, poised for action.
While Keegan was figuring out where they had to go, it was on Jaron to protect his mate.
A flicker of movement caught his eye.
One of the mages, a small man, emerged from the shadows, hands already weaving a spell. Jaron didn't hesitate. He leaped forward, placing himself between the attacker and Keegan.
The mage snarled, hurling the spell at Jaron. Magic sizzled past him, cutting into his skin on its path, but Jaron didn't let that stop him. With a roar that was more dragon than human, he tackled the mage to the ground.
They grappled, rolling across the floor in a tangle of limbs. The mage was skilled, but Jaron had raw draconic strength on his side. He pinned the mage down, his grip unbreakable.
"Why are you doing this?" Jaron demanded, his voice a low growl. "What's Malkira planning?"
The mage shook his head. "We're only doing what needs to be done."
Jaron tightened his hold, his fingers digging into the mage's arms. "Tell me," he demanded.
The mage's eyes narrowed.
Jaron realized the man was going to cast another spell, something to throw him off, but then, instead of attacking, the mage started crying.
Just like that, he was bawling under Jaron.
Jaron blinked.
What…?
Was this a trick?
"That one's got a lot of issues."
Jaron looked up at the sound of the voice and saw Mordyn stepping out of the shadows.
Was this his doing somehow?
Mordyn gave a small shake of his head as if he knew what Jaron was wondering about. "Emotions are my playground," he said. "Or battleground, if need be."
Before Jaron could ask him to explain further, Keegan snapped out of his vision, his eyes focusing on the scene before him. He took in the crying mage and Mordyn's presence without a flicker of surprise.
"Took you long enough to get here," Mordyn said to him.
" I expected you three minutes earlier too," Keegan replied. "We need to keep moving."
With that, he turned and strode down the corridor, leaving the mage behind. Jaron and Mordyn exchanged a glance before following suit.
After a few steps, Keegan slowed down and turned to Jaron, his gaze zeroing in on Jaron's shoulder. "You're hurt," he noted, eyes narrowing at the wound where the spell had hit.
Jaron shrugged, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain the movement caused. "I'm fine," he said, his voice tight. "There are more important things to focus on right now."
Jaron followed Keegan and Mordyn down the stairs, his senses on high alert for any signs of danger. The deeper they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, as if the very air was trying to suffocate him.
Or maybe that was just his growing awareness that they were ever closer to getting answers he might not like.
Had Malkira really betrayed him after all this time?
Why?
Jaron's jaw set. He'd find out one way or another, and he'd face the truth, whatever it was.
They encountered another group of mages on the next level, their hands already weaving spells. Jaron was ready to fight, but Mordyn stepped forward, his eyes glowing red.
The mages faltered, their spells fizzling out as they stared at Mordyn in confusion. Then, as one, they turned and fled, their faces twisted with inexplicable terror.
Jaron shot Mordyn an impressed look. "Handy trick."
Mordyn shrugged, but Jaron could see the toll it was taking on him. The vampire's face was as pale as Keegan's had been when he was working himself into the ground.
It must be because Apollo was missing.
Without his mate's blood to sustain him, Mordyn was running on fumes.
But there was a steely determination in Mordyn's eyes, a resolve that Jaron understood all too well. Mordyn would do whatever it took to save Apollo, just as Jaron would do anything for Keegan.
Still, it would probably be best to avoid too many confrontations.
Keegan pushed them onward, his steps quick and purposeful.
They could hear more mages ahead of them, and Jaron braced himself for a fight, but Keegan veered sharply to the left, leading them down a narrow side corridor.
"This way," he said, his voice tight. "We're getting close."
Jaron's heart pounded painfully as they descended another flight of stairs. He could feel it, the sense that they were nearing their goal. Somewhere in this building, Malkira was preparing her ritual, and Jaron would stop her.