Page 14 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

Neither could I, apparently.

And that realization unsettled me more than anything we were about to uncover.

The light from the projector bathed the room in a blue glow, flickering across the long table and catching in the dust motes drifting through the air. Manu leaned forward, his fingers drumming absently against a half-empty cup of coffee, while Julian stood beside the display, a crackle of static tracing the edges of his voice as he adjusted the brightness.

“Alright,” Julian began, his tone quiet but precise, each word deliberate, “I cross-referenced the markings on the artifact you recovered in Moscow with the glyphs from the records Manu provided. They share a similar root—Coptic, but with a northern inflection. That led us to a set of mirrored runes in the archives from the Quebec coven.”

He tapped a few keys on the tablet, and a grainy image appeared—a photograph of an old cathedral half-consumed by ivy, its spires rising like fangs above the river fog.

“The next piece is there,” he said, zooming in on a section of stone near the base of one of the towers. “Hidden beneath the old chapel. The structure was built directly over an ancient convergence point. The wards were placed centuries ago, long before the clans began cataloguing artifact sites. But this… this predates everything.”

I felt something tighten in my chest as I leaned closer. “That’s in Quebec City.”

Julian nodded. “Near the lower quarter. The site was converted into a coven stronghold about three hundred years ago.”

A small, wry curve appeared on my lips. “I know. I researched the area when I founded our clan there.”

Julian and Manu turned to me, surprised.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Shadow Thorn,” I said softly. “It was my project. I wanted to build a sanctuary—a place for fledglings and civilians to live without constant fear of raids or clan politics. Quebec was perfect. The humans there had a history of tolerance, and the city itself—” I hesitated, a flicker of warmth stirring at the memory, “—it’s beautiful. Old stone, music in the streets, candlelight in the winter. If I weren’t sworn to Rene, I’d have stayed there permanently.”

Manu grinned. “The famous Cassara James—founder, warrior, and now city planner.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”

Con, who had been standing near the far wall with his arms crossed, finally spoke. “You think the artifact was placed there deliberately?”

Julian nodded. “Yes. The records indicate the site once belonged to an early witch coven—the kind that practiced celestial binding rituals. The energy signature from the artifact in Moscow matches what’s buried beneath the chapel floor. Whoever placed it there wanted it hidden in plain sight.”

“Hidden before I founded the clan,” I murmured, shaking my head. “That’s irony for you.”

Manu leaned forward, tracing the lines of the map with one long finger. “There’s another layer to it. The city’s ley lines converge under the old district. If the artifact is what I think it is, it’s feeding off that power to stay dormant. You remove it, and those wards could collapse.”

“So the entire stronghold could destabilize,” I said. “Perfect.”

Julian hesitated before continuing. “That’s not the only risk. There’s also a record of a protective barrier placed by the original coven. I think the witches bound part of their essence into the stone. That’s what’s masking the artifact’s signature. It only showed up when the energy in Moscow shifted after you removed the previous piece.”

Con’s gaze flicked toward me. “Meaning our search is triggering something larger each time.”

“Exactly,” Julian said. “Each artifact is part of a network. They’re all linked. Remove one, and it wakes another.”

I exhaled slowly, staring at the web of glowing lines on the map. “And eventually, when they’re all awake…”

“We’ll find the core,” Julian finished quietly.

Silence settled over the room. The soft hum of the projector filled the space, mingling with the subtle creak of the mansion’s old timbers.

Quebec City. The thought of returning there stirred something bittersweet. I could almost see it—the narrow, cobbled streets, the soft fall of snow over the old market, the bells from the cathedral echoing over the river. It was the closest thing to peace I’d ever known, and now it was about to become another battlefield.

“I’ll handle the arrangements,” I said finally. “I still have contacts in the city. Shadow Thorn will welcome us, and they’ll know where to start digging.”

Con nodded. “We’ll leave before dawn.”

Manu gathered his papers, muttering under his breath, “You vampires and your timing.”

Julian shut down the display and looked up at me. “Cassara,” he said quietly, “I know it’s personal. But you need to be careful. The wards protecting that artifact are older than any of us. They won’t welcome you back like your clan will.”

I smiled, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “I’ve never needed a warm welcome.”