Page 126 of Vervain

Serun is pure shadow. Shadows split away from him, becoming long black claws. His creature-like hands scrape across the stainless-steel flooring, and the ones that creep out from behind his back hover above his head, ready to attack if needed.

He hands me my mask, and I cup the fox mask in my hands, my thumbs brushing the black-and-white pattern. Vervain florals climb the dark side near the eye, and the last petal grazes the pointed ears.

Placing it over my face, Serun then hands me my sword. As I buckle it across my chest, he disappears in a cloud of black smoke as the doors close. My ear twitches, and a spark of panic surges, only for him to reappear a moment later with my dagger. “There will be guns. Amateur slayers may use them, while others may bring fire and useless stakes.” Serun’s voice is calm, with little to no emotion. “No matter where I disappear to, keep walking and don’t stop.”

I nod, not daring to speak.

“My shadow will be with you, too. A piece of Penumbra that will always protect you.”

I nod again, wincing as the ache flares across my throat.

“I’m not at my strongest, either. Slayer blood does little to a nightwalker—if anything, it hinders our performance. I also have back pain and am in no mood to fight.”

I take his hand and think, Bite me.

“Not unless I need to.” Serun punches in G4, then scans the card. The lift descends, and my stomach, heart, and panic float back to the tower. Sadness grips me at the shattered light and the realisation that this prayer sanctuary is no longer safe, with likely predators waiting to enter. But Cole is important, and if Avianna believes he is here, I will tear this place down brick by brick to find him.

Serun powders away in black mist. I grip the dagger tighter until it trembles, and I glare ahead as the doors open. My eyes widen at the red-painted hallway. Serun stands in the centre of the mess, blood dripping from the ceiling, and torn limbs creating an abstract pattern around him. The only souls left alive are two children huddled together, wearing the same clothes as the children by the fountain were.

We are the monsters.

CHAPTER SIXTY

SUBTERRANEAN

Saya Claymore

My boots step on thick red that coats the floor. Vacant eyes stare up at me, and shadows sink into flesh, as if their souls were being drained. I move to the children first. As I crouch before them, they flinch. Understanding their hesitance, I rise, eye the door across from them, and open it. No one is inside. “Come, children. You will be safe in here,” I say, as if my words will do any good after witnessing the horror Serun just unleashed.

To my surprise, they rise. Tears prick their eyes, but they nod. Hand in hand, they walk past me when the younger boy, likely four years old—at least around there—stops and stares at me, a shimmer in his blue eyes. “Mother?”

I reach out, touching his cheek and saying, “Where is she? I will protect her from harm.”

The older boy says, “Our mums are dead, but a pregnant lady looks after us. She is in room two-zero-two. Please don’t hurt her.”

I nod firmly. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Kamai.” Serun appears beside me. “We’re on a time limit.” The children don’t flinch as he pushes them by the backs until they are in the room. “Other children will be hiding. When this is all over, I need you two to be strong for them.”

They nod, and I wonder if they’re being lured, but they don’t have the same look Olivia had when Serun used his powers on her.

Do they trust us?

Serun closes the door, then turns to me. “We can explore adopting children later. Come, kamai.”

Fluorescent light gleams down on the glistening mess, and sparks of static zap in the corner of the narrow hallway. Likely a security camera that Serun destroyed before they could find out what we are doing.

What are we doing?

Another door opens into a room with silver chairs and tables. A white coat hides behind it, but as they reach for their pocket, Serun’s shadow shoots out, slamming his body against the steel wall. Blood splatters from his head, cracked open by the forceful impact.

Serun doesn’t care. No remorse or empathy for killing. His mind is elsewhere, and I need to do the same. He leaves the other two unharmed, even though all they do is huddle in the corner. With a shake of my head, I tear my gaze from the dead white coat and keep moving forward.

“I sense him…” he says as his shadow opens another door. I guide four more children from the open into the room. They listen to us, which makes me wonder what their lives were like here to accept monsters. “My brother’s scent suffocates these very walls.”

Stepping over another corpse, I reach the end of the hallway, and Serun turns into smoke and disappears again. The door ahead bursts open, and a man with a raised stake suddenly floats in the air as his shadow attacks him.

Serun appears, dead red eyes fixed on the slayer, sword poised. As the slayer crashes to the ground, black tar ripples through the slick red. The slayer collapses in a mess of flesh, and Serun rises, sword dripping with blood before it vanishes.