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 eye
s 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.
In the next moment, Caine was whispering a spell, his aura lashing at the giant’s face The creature roared, tilting back his head, and the sound rumbled through Rosalind’s gut, sparking the voice in the back of her mind that always told her when to run. Buried alive, her mind screamed. Instinctively, she reached for the knife strapped to her thigh—her only weapon. Fat lot of good it will do against a giant.
Clumps of dirt rained from the ceiling, and she grabbed Caine’s arm. “We need to run.”
But just as they turned to flee, an avalanche of dirt rained down, forming a wall where the tunnel should be. And with it, Rosalind caught a glimpse of gaunt limbs and faces, tumbling down.
Her knees went weak. The vampire prisoners had been freed. Nothing separated her from them now but a pile of dirt.
In the next moment, a giant fist punched through the earthen wall, then clamped around her waist. The behemoth clutched her hard in his meaty fingers, and panic clamped around her heart.
Her heart thrumming, Rosalind jammed her knife into the giant’s finger. At the same time Caine ran for his fist, sword raised. He sliced into the giant’s flesh, cutting straight to the bone. The giant only clutched tighter, crushing her ribs and pulling her toward his stubby, bloodstained teeth. His eyes… go for his eyes.
Panic lit up her nerves, and she ripped the knife from the giant’s finger, then hurled it at his eye. It sank into his pupil, piercing her reflection. The giant shrieked, dropping her into the tunnel again. His wail was deafening.
Rosalind ran back to Caine, but they were trapped. Great chunks of dirt rained down on her shoulders and hair. A starved vampire with hair the color of sand broke free from one of the piles of dirt, running right for Rosalind.
Caine slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close and chanting a spell. His silver magic curled around them, forming a shield. Rosalind pressed in close to Caine, and the hungry vamp slammed into his shield, her eyes burning blood red. She slammed herself against the invisible shield, her forehead splitting.
All around the silvery bubble, earth and mud rained down around them.
She closed her eyes, slowing her breathing. Caine leaned in, whispering, “I won’t be able to hold this shield forever. There’s too much iron around here.”
What will kill us first—the vamps, or the crumbling ceiling? They were about two minutes away from suffocating under the earth. She could already feel herself running out of breath. She tightened her fingers around Caine’s arm, her breath coming in short bursts. “We have to get out of here.”
“Stay calm.” He brushed her hair off her face. “We’ve got limited air in here.”
“That’s supposed to help me calm down?” She closed her eyes, concentrating on slowly exhaling before she had a panic attack and sucked all the air right out of Caine’s lungs. Her heart was beating fast as a hummingbird’s. “Can we teleport?”
“I don’t think it will work with all the iron, but we can try. I’ll definitely need you to chant with me. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
Caine held her hand and slid the iron ring off her finger. Cleo’s aura roiled in her mind, leaching away some of her fear.
Before she knew what was happening, she was chanting along with Caine, her lips effortlessly forming the words for the teleportation spell. Their silver and green auras mingled together in a thrilling rush. She felt the power lighting up her body.
In the next moment, she was breathing clear air, standing in the center of Caine’s room. He slid the ring back on her finger.
She still gripped his arm around her waist. “It worked,” she breathed.
“You’ve got better control now.” Slowly, he released her, taking his warmth with him as he stepped away.
Her body burned from the exertion of the spell, and she flopped back on Caine’s bed, only half-aware that she was coating his sheets with mud and dirt. I’m alive. Thank the gods. I’m not buried under vamp-infested earth. She pushed herself up on her elbows, staring at Caine. “I thought giants were extinct.”
“So did I. And right about now, I need to figure out what the hell is going on. We seem to be under a ker attack, and I have no idea where the fucking giant came from.” The fortress walls shook from a violent pounding noise, and a muscle clenched in Caine’s jaw. “I need to get the army together, at least what’s left of it after Erish recruited half of them.”
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Caine quickly crossed to pull it open. In the doorframe stood a curly-haired female vamp, dressed for battle in tight-fitting black clothes, a sword slung over her back. She stared at Caine, squaring her shoulders. “Sir. There’s a horde of keres swarming out from the traitor’s gate. Someone or something blasted a giant hole in one of the dungeon walls.”
The pounding continued, the fortress’s walls rattling.
The temperature in the room chilled, and a whisper of black wings drew up behind Caine. “Get everyone to the esplanade. We fight them there.” He turned to Rosalind. “Stay here. The room is spelled to keep you safe.”
“I can help you.”
“I don’t have time to save you if anything happens to you,” he said. “And you’re as likely to get killed by a vamp as you are by a ker. You’re staying here.”
He has a point. “Fine.”
Caine left, slamming the door behind him, and Rosalind crossed to the window. The breeze smelled different now—no longer just floral, but tinged with the scent of blood and charcoal. Rosalind peered out at the esplanade; it swarmed with snarling keres, their muddy skin glistening in the moonlight. At least thirty vampire soldiers stood among them, armed with pikes—the vamps loyal to Queen Erish.
Even from ten stories up, she could still see Antu’s broken body on the stone. A few keres swarmed around her, lifting her broken body over their shoulders and ferrying it away.
A great thundering boom rocked the castle, and Rosalind gripped the windowsill to steady herself. The room tilted, and glasses slid off the shelves, shattering on the floor.
The earth rumbled with loud booms, and the giant appeared, crushing part of a stone wall as he climbed on to the walkway leading up to the esplanade. One of his eyes was clamped shut, and thick streams of blood dripped from his mangled fingers. He clenched his fists, screaming into the night.
The portcullis creaked open, and vampire soldiers began streaming into the open esplanade, their silver armor catching the moonlight.
Caine stood at the front of the charge, nearly a head taller than most of the vamps. Shadowy magic curled around him. He wore no armor, but two swords were strapped across his back and an entire arsenal of blades glinted from his boots and pants.
The giant took a step closer to the castle. He was going to crush the vamps and rip right through the fortress walls. But as soon as his gnarled, bare foot hit the ground, some of the vampires rushed forward, scuttling up his body like bugs, biting at his flesh, gnawing through his tendons and gristle. Moaning, the giant tottered, staggering back.
Caine pulled his sword from his back then launched into a sprint, fast as the night wind, and within moments he’d launched himself into the air. His sword found its mark right in the giant’s heart.
Rosalind’s breath caught in her throat. Holy shit. He can fly?
Groaning, the behemoth tilted backward, arms windmilling in large arcs. When he landed on the ground, the earth shook. Caine fell with him, still gripping his sword.
The brightly colored aura around the giant drifted away and disappeared into the night sky.
Screaming, the throng of keres swarmed around the giant’s body, trying to flee from Caine and his army. They moved fast�
�but the vamps were faster. Caine’s soldiers leapt onto the stone walls surrounding the street, swarming around the keres to flank them.
The demonesses were completely surrounded, wingless, trapped between the giant and the vamps. Their white hair gleamed in the moonlight.
Caine leapt down from the giant, gripping his sword. The vampires around him pulled their weapons from their sheaths.
A high pitched shrieking rent the air—the keres’ piercing battle cries.
The mob of keres charged for Caine, and he swung, moonlight gleaming off his sword. He towered over the keres, slicing into the first one that ran at him. The demonesses were gunning for him, and he fought in a stunning whirl of silver and black, hacking into ker bodies. The keres moved with inhuman speed, but they were armed only with knives—probably iron ones that could injure vamps, but not very effective against the sword. It seemed like they were up for a suicide mission, if it meant they had a chance of getting their wings back.
Caine could probably have ended it all quickly, using his magic alone. But as she watched his elegant swings, saw his body glowing with a pale silver light, Rosalind had the distinct impression that he enjoyed every second of this.
Then, with one graceful movement, he sheathed his sword. He was going to fight bare-handed. With his magic whipping around his body, he gripped a ker by the head, then twisted it to the side until she fell, her neck broken.
Horrifying—but Rosalind felt a strange thrill at watching his savage grace.
As Caine snapped necks, Rosalind’s gaze darted to the base of the fortress, and her mouth went dry. Three armed keres were scaling the wall, coming right for her. They scuttled up with a startling speed.
With a hammering heart, Rosalind slammed the window shut and locked it. She rushed to the table by Caine’s bed, grabbing for the weapons. With her eyes on the window, she gripped two, long knives. Her blood pumped hard, warming her limbs.
Just outside the window, a shrill battle cry pierced the air. They’re here.
Their faces only appeared in the glass for a moment before the window shattered, shards of glass spraying around the room. In an explosion of glass, the three ker women leapt into Caine’s bedroom.
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