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With a sense of urgency and desperation, I rushed through the castle, searching for any sign or clue that might lead me to Lilith and Cass. My first stop was my study, where I scoured through the papers and documents that might contain a hint or message. But it yielded nothing. Next, I hurried to our bedroom, where I examined every nook and cranny for any indication of their whereabouts. Their absence in our once-cozy space only intensified my anxiety.
Finally, I arrived at Cass's room, her toys and belongings scattered as if left in haste. My heart ached as I realized the impact of the sudden and violent intrusion into our lives. I searched for any clues that might provide a lead, but there was no trace of where they might have been taken or why. The helplessness I felt was overwhelming, but I knew that I couldn’t afford to despair.
“Think, Adrian… Think!” I pounded my head with my own fist, in an effort to force my mind to consider any option, no matter how insignificant it might seem at first.
Then, it hit me. Where would Lil go if she saw that the vampires were attacking? She would try to find the safest place. But what was the safest place? I thought about it for a moment.
The attic!
As I ascended the stairs to the attic, my heart pounded with anxiety, fearing what I might find in the aftermath of the vampire attack. I had no idea what I would find there, if anything. I noticed the broken door immediately, the furniture that was lined against it. So, someone tried to barricade themselves inside.
Lil. My clever girl.
I looked around, walking slowly. Broken furniture and signs of struggle were scattered across the room, telling a grim tale. I was right. Lil did come here in an effort to hide away from the vampires, but they found them.
I looked around and my eyes fell upon a message scrawled on the wall, hastily written but legible. It read: the old mill.
My heart sank at those words. That had to be where Constantine was keeping Lilith and Cass. There were many mills around, but only one was known as the old mill. That same mill was the place humans steered clear of. We all knew of the legend of Willow Wraith, although no one had actually seen her ghost. There were several variations of the legend, but in every one of them, Willow Wraith was a simple woman who had been wronged in her life, her soul twisted by a terrible injustice. One version claimed her to be a witch, and the village people hunted her down, until she met her untimely end inside the mill itself. The other version claimed her to be just a poor soul in love, who died of a broken heart, after she had fed bread made of her own blood and flour from the mill to her cheating fiancée. There was a third version, where she had been captured by a group of robbers, who abused her then murdered her. All versions were chilling enough to keep any human as far away from that place as possible.
But not only that. There had been several deaths in the mill, where travelers decided to rest there for the night, thinking it abandoned, only to never see the light of day again. This only seemed to add to the legend, which now claimed that Willow Wraith could not endure the presence of intruders, and those who dared to venture into the mill would suffer a fate worse than death. It was said that she would torment trespassers, luring them deeper into the woods with eerie whispers, only to ensnare them in her malevolent grasp. The unfortunate souls who fell victim to her wiles would vanish without a trace, their fates sealed in the darkness.
I knew better than to question the existence of ghosts, and decided to steer clear of the place myself, like the humans did. But if Constantine wanted me there, to save my family, then I would be there. There was no room in my heart for fear and doubt.
I rushed to the stables, mounting my horse. I rode through the moonlit night, the path ahead enshrouded in a thick veil of ancient trees and gnarled branches. The forest surrounding the mill was even more frightening than during the day, and the very air around it was thick with a chilling stillness.
The path I followed was overgrown with gnarled roots and thorny underbrush, and the skeletal fingers of the trees seemed to reach out as if to deter any intruders. Shadows danced in the moonlight, casting ominous silhouettes that played tricks on my imagination.
The closer I came to the Old Mill, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The sounds of the forest grew muted, as if the very woods held their breath, aware of the sinister reputation of the place. The air grew heavy with an uncanny stillness, and the sensation of being watched sent shivers down my spine.
Despite the fear, I had to continue. Lil and Cass were counting on me. I had already let them down once, by not being there when they needed me the most. A claw clenched around my heart, as I remembered how Lil asked me to go back with her, but I refused. I turned my back on her, and now, she was in the clutches of my brother, and my worst enemy. I couldn’t let anything happen to her or my daughter. I had to save them, even if that was the last thing I did.
Chapter Eighteen
Lilith
“Mom?” I heard Cass’ voice, but the black hood was still on my head, and I couldn’t see a thing. They had placed them on our heads the moment we left the castle, and they still hadn’t taken them off.
“I’m here, baby,” I replied.
I could feel two hands keeping a firm grip on my upper arms, as they led us down a chilling corridor. I could smell a faint scent of mold and flour. Somewhere in the distance, mice squealed as they probably scattered before we even reached them.
Suddenly, they stopped us, and the hands disappeared from my upper arms. I was no longer controlled. But I knew that I didn’t want to risk taking off my hood just yet. I listened intently to the sounds around us. As the heavy door was locked behind us, I called out to Cass.
“Cass, honey?”
“I’m here, mom,” I could hear her reply.
I pulled the hood off my head and saw her do the same. She lunged towards me, wrapping her arms around me. I did the same, burying my face into her hair, and kissing her a million times. When she pulled away, I inspected her hastily.
“Are you okay?” I asked, breathless, checking every inch of her body. “Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” she assured me. “They didn’t hurt me.”
“Bastards!” I hissed angrily, looking around.
The room, while far from luxurious, appeared relatively comfortable. There was still that smell of mold, lingering heavily in the air.
Cass was still clinging to me, her arms wrapped around my waist, her wide eyes filled with fear and confusion. I held her close, pressing my lips to her forehead and murmuring soothing words to reassure her.
