vampires mage 02 - witch hunter (11 page)

“You have no idea just how dark hell is,” he muttered, then whispered a spell, sparking a sphere that hovered just above their heads in the cramped space. It illuminating glistening stone walls, and a wooden door at the bottom of a long flight of stairs.

Caine was obviously in a weird mood, and she didn’t respond as they trudged down the stairs. Quiet fell upon them, interrupted only by a rhythmic dripping noise.

At the bottom of the stairs, Caine chanted another spell, and the deadbolts on the door unlocked with a creak. The heavy door groaned open, revealing an arched stone corridor lit by torches. About fifty feet away, two armed vampire guards stood shoulder to shoulder.

Caine shot her a quick look. “There will be a lot of iron down here. If we need to use magic, it won’t be very powerful. So let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I would rely on my weapons and armor, but you had me dress in transparent tulle so I could look pretty for the king.”

“If I remember correctly, you’re perfectly adept at fighting naked.”

As they walked, shrieks echoed from further down the hall. They drew closer to the guards, who looked like inverted images of each other: one with tan skin and a shock of white hair, the other raven-haired and pale as moonlight. Only their stony expressions matched.

Rosalind narrowed her eyes at the pair. After what she’d seen upstairs, she wanted to warn them to do whatever Caine asked if they knew what was good for them.

Caine stalked closer to them, staring down at one of the guards. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Queen Erish down here recently.”

The white-haired guard didn’t meet Caine’s gaze. “No, sir.”

Caine tilted his head. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re lying?”

The vampire’s hands began to tremble. “The queen protects all shadow demons, sir.”

“The queen protects herself,” Caine said. “Tell me what you know about the keres.”

Nervously, the guard met Caine’s gaze. “Queen Erish said she was protecting our city. She said the Brotherhood are coming—”

“Who has protected you in the past?” Caine cut in.

“You, sir. And the High Lord.” The guard took a deep breath, holding Caine’s gaze. “In the southwest corner—”

In a lightning-fast gesture, the other guard plunged a stake right through his back. A bloodied wooden tip protruded from the white-haired guard’s chest, and he crumpled to the ground.

Rosalind took a step back, ready to grab for her knife, but Caine already had the killer by his neck. He lifted him into the air, then punched through the vamp’s ribs into his chest.

Rosalind’s blood drained from her head. Caine was gripping the vamp’s heart. “What did she promise you?” he snarled.

A thin stream of blood ran from the corner of the vamp’s mouth, and choking noises echoed off the ceiling.

“Tell me.” Caine’s voice was low and soothing. “And it will all be over.”

“Daywalking—” the vamp choked out.

Caine’s mouth twisted in a dark smile. “You thought
Erish
would help you become a daywalker?”

The vamp managed a nod before Caine pulled his heart from his chest, blood dripping down his arm. As the vamp crumpled to the floor, Caine slid his sword from his back. He sliced through the vamp’s neck, severing his spine, before glancing at Rosalind again. “I guess we’ve got to find the keres on our own. How many vampires do you think she made these promises to? I’d wager she’s manipulated all the prison guards, maybe more.”

“If a lot of soldiers knew about this, surely someone would have told you or Ambrose.”

“There has been a lot of discord among the soldiers. They’re not happy with us.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Ambrose promised to make them daywalkers. And it hasn’t happened. I’m sure by now some of them think Queen Erish could do a better job of it.”

Rosalind nodded at the white-haired guard. “He said something about the southwest corner.”

“So we’ll check that part of the dungeon.” Caine sheathed his sword, then began striding down the hallway. “There may be some sort of hidden entrance in the ground. There’s nowhere else in the city that they would have gone unnoticed.”

His footsteps echoed off the ceiling. The narrow hall was barely large enough for the two of them to walk abreast, and her arm brushed his. As they walked, the distant shrieks grew louder—frantic, animalistic noises, half human and half beast.

The narrow hall opened to a wider corridor with a packed-dirt floor, lined on either side by iron cells. Gray, emaciated arms clawed between the cell bars, scratching and grasping at the air. They seemed to be reaching right for Rosalind, and with a twist of her gut she realized why they’d been screaming. They’d been starved down here, and they could smell her blood.

Caine turned to look at her. “I suppose I don’t need to tell a former hunter to be careful around starved vampires.”

“I gathered that.”

The vampires’ shrieks sent a cold shiver up her spine, and she stepped into the corridor, walking as fast as she could. Her heart thumped wildly. Frantic hands reached for her, but she wouldn’t meet the vamp’s eyes. She didn’t want to see the desperation in them.

She crossed her arms as she walked, her gaze on the dirt floor, until a frantic banging noise interrupted the silence. Finally, she gave in, glancing to her right. A gaunt female vamp with wild brown ringlets was throwing herself against the iron bars, howling. Her fangs were bared, and her eyes burned with a bestial ferocity.

Rosalind swallowed hard and walked on, quickening her pace.

At last, the corridor opened into a central atrium. Five guards stood in the center, forming a circle, with each of them facing outward and surveying a corridor. Cell-lined hallways branched off from the atrium like spokes on a wheel.

The guards gripped silver pikes, and their shoulders straightened as Caine approached.

“Sir—” one of them began.

But Caine merely whispered a spell, flicking his wrist. The vampires fell to the ground. Caine never broke his pace.

“Are they dead?” Rosalind asked, stepping over a guard.

“No.” He led her to another corridor of cells. “But they probably should be. This could never have happened without their knowledge. I’ll let Ambrose decide their fates.”

As they entered another long corridor of iron cells, the prisoners’ arms began their frantic, desperate grasping again, and Rosalind tried to block them out. Still, their screams—full of hunger—cut to the bone.

As they approached the end of the corridor, Rosalind fixed her gaze on the ground, but even without lifting her head she knew they were getting closer to their target. A faint smell of charcoal wafted past her, a darkening of the dust particles that floated around them, a faint feeling of thin wires brushing over her skin.
Ker auras.

“There’s nothing here,” Caine said. “Can you sense anything?”

“Yes. Give me a minute.” Rosalind tried to block out a banging noise from her left. She stared at the air around her hands, swirling with faint wisps of black that brushed over her skin. She raised her fingers into the air, studying them closely, and the wisps grew thinner.
Bang. Bang. Bang.

“It’s coming from below,” she whispered. She crouched down, watching the darkening of the air around her fingers, smelling the air thickening with charcoal. She shifted onto her hands and knees.

“I’m quite admiring the view,” Caine said.

“It’s coming from the ground.” She brushed the earth back and forth. When she’d cleared away half an inch of earth, she caught a glimpse of wood.

Caine knelt beside her, helping her to clear it off. “And this is why I need you around.”

Rosalind brushed and scraped away the dirt with her hands, keeping her eyes on the ground, still trying to ignore the slamming noise to her left—a sound like metal slamming against metal, accompanied by agonized screams.
Bang, bang, bang.
This place was awful.
Bang. Bang.

Together, they cleared the wooden surface, and Caine dug his fingers down, pulling up a square of wood. He let it slam onto the ground next to them, a cloud of dirt puffing into the air. Coughing in the dust, he peered down into a narrow, earthen hole.

Bang. Bang.

“It’s about a twelve-foot drop,” Caine said. “I’m going to jump in first and make sure it’s safe. Then you can follow.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Caine sat at the edge of the hole, then jumped. She peered down at him as he landed, still trying to block out that cacophony behind her.
Bang. Bang.
She was about to lose her mind. Unable to control her curiosity anymore, she glanced at the source of the noise. A male vamp—middle-aged, with frizzy gray hair—slammed his forehead against the bars, his face streaming with blood. His cracked skull was visible through his forehead.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered.
I want to get the hell out of here. Now.
“Caine?”

Uttering a spell, Caine sparked another glowing sphere, which cast pale light on an earthen space. He looked up at her. “I don’t see any immediate threats. Jump.”

She sat at the edge of the hole, dangling her legs over, and then let herself drop. Caine caught her around the waist. Her body slid against his as he lowered her; her pulse raced as her bare skin brushed against his thin shirt. His strong fingers lingered on her waist a little longer than they needed to, and an electric rush tingled over her skin. She met his gaze, and for a second she nearly forgot what they were doing.

“The keres,” he muttered, as if reading her mind.

She nodded, stepping away. “Right.” She surveyed this new space: a narrow, earthen tunnel, lit only by Caine’s sphere of light. The air down here was stale—full and heavy with mold—and she had the uncomfortable feeling that the ceiling might collapse at any moment, burying them under the earth. Which, incidentally, was pretty much Rosalind’s worst nightmare—particularly when that earth contained starved vampires.
Keep your cool, Rosalind. Soldiers aren’t afraid of a little dirt.

Caine sucked in a sharp breath. “How the hell did Erish manage to create all this? Who dug this for her?”

They pressed on through the narrow tunnel, and Rosalind tried to steady her breathing, willing herself to stay calm. The passageway curved around, back in the direction of the atrium. Hugging herself, Rosalind took deep breaths, trying to ignore the feeling that she was sucking in dirt instead of air.

As they walked, the sound of female voices floated on the air, and thin tendrils of charcoal auras wafted toward them.
The keres.
Rosalind could only hope they were kept in cells like the vamps upstairs, but she really had no idea. Whatever the case, she didn’t imagine they’d be fond of their queen’s killer.

The sphere of light flew forward as they approached, and the keres’ talking subsided. As she and Caine drew closer, Rosalind could see the light glinting off metal.
Good. They’re locked up.

The narrow tunnel opened into a wider earthen hall, and as Rosalind stepped into it she got a good view of the keres. On one side of the hall, the demons were kept in iron cells like the ones upstairs, but with packed-dirt walls instead of stone.

As Caine and Rosalind stepped into the hall, hundreds of silver eyes landed directly on them. Caine strode over to one of the cells, running his finger along the cell bars. “A ker prison in Ambrose’s dungeons. This is certainly unexpected.”

The pale, starry eyes gazed back at him. None of the keres responded.

“I don’t suppose anyone wants to tell me what you’re doing here?” he asked.

A heavy silence was broken by a call from one of the far corners of the hall. “We want our wings back!” someone croaked.

Caine crossed to one of the cells and reached inside, grabbing a ker by her ragged black dress and pulling her against the bars. “What is Queen Erish planning?”

The ker trembled. “She didn’t tell us,” she stuttered. “But if we do what she says, we get our wings back.”

“And what does she want you to do?”

Frantic, the keres began shrieking, jumping up and down on the earthen floor. Through the din, Rosalind could make out shrieks of “Don’t tell them! Don’t tell them!”

Rosalind peered further down the hall, and through the black auras she caught a glimpse of something that didn’t belong at all: swirls of copper, silver, blue, green, gray, and gold auras, curling into the air.
What the hell?

While the keres continued their frantic jabbering, she stepped closer to the rainbow colors. Up ahead, there seemed to be a gap in the cells, and it was from that space that the colored aura rose.

As she walked closer, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Finally, at the gap’s edge, she peered around the corner. A window had been carved in the dirt—and through it, a giant set of eyes stared at her from an enormous, humanlike head.

Chapter 12

Her mind whirled, trying to process what she was looking at. A
giant? I guess that’s who dug the tunnels.
But giants had gone extinct thousands of years ago. Nevertheless, he looked distinctly enormous, and was staring right at her.

His eyes were a deep brown, glaring at her from below thick, wiry blond brows, and he smelled like a grave. His skin was rough and ruddy, with enormous pores, and she could see her own reflection in his enormous black pupils.

And I look scared as shit.

“Caine?” she shouted.

“What?” he barked, interrupting his interrogation of the terrified ker.

“There’s a giant,” she blurted.

“
What?
” he snapped again, in a tone implying that she’d lost her mind.

“There’s a fucking giant!” she shouted, stepping away from the creature.

In a fraction of a second, Caine had dropped the ker and was at her side.

The giant’s large brown eyes fixed on the incubus, and as soon as they did, a low rumble filled the hall. The ground trembled, and dirt fell from the ceiling.
Oh shit.

From somewhere below, a deep, pounding noise reverberated through the earth, and chunks of the ceiling rained down onto her bare skin. The keres’ screeching intensified, and the demons jumped wildly in their cages.