Page 212

The questions plague me, though I don’t know why I care. Thanks to my misplaced sentimentality, I’m sure I place far more into the “keep” pile than one of the males would. It just feels wrong to throw most of it out without knowing its significance.

I reach blindly into another box. When I wrap my hand around soft leather, an odd humming at my fingertips makes me jolt in surprise. The humming lasts only a moment, so I tighten my grip on the object and pull it out for inspection.

It’s an old satchel. Covered in dirt, but obviously well made, with intricate stitching and brown leather that’s as soft as butter. Beautifully wrought brass buckles and clasps hold the front flap shut.

It’s a forgotten carry-all, full of ghosts.

Tears burn behind my eyes and I scold myself for being so soft-hearted. I have enough to cry over. There’s no need to get emotional over a satchel belonging someone I don’t even know.

Whoever owned this could have been a complete jerk. Like Cage, or Silas.

I don’t even know what the males that live here are really involved in.

It’s obvious they’re military of some kind, but that’s the extent of my knowledge. I don’t know who or what they fight, and no matter how often I try to listen in on conversations, no one ever talks about anything important around me.

One thing’s for certain. Whatever they’re involved in, their organization has real power.

What other reason could there be for the existence of this ancient castle and sprawling compound crawling with vampires ready for war?

I can feel the history of this place in every stone, corridor, and stained glass window—the product of centuries of ancient authority.

I feel a familiar hatred toward my father for keeping me so ignorant of the world. I despise feeling left behind all the time. Like everyone else is always ten steps ahead, and I’m not only scrambling to play catch-up, but to survive a game I didn’t even know I was playing.

Frustrated, I open the satchel and check the insides. There’s nothing in any of the smaller pockets, but the main compartment holds a small book and a dagger.

I pull the book out first and flip through the pages, realizing quickly that it’s not a book.

It’s a journal.

I place it in the keep pile.

I hesitate only a second before wrapping my palm around the handle of the dagger.

It’s beautifully carved, made of smooth, white bone. There’s not much else to it. No gems or intricate scroll work as I’ve seen on other pieces I found.

I rotate it in my palm, admiring the subtle glow pulsing under the fluorescent lights. A hum, soft and low, buzzes through the air.

The lights above flicker once, twice, then steady.

Odd. I haven’t seen the electricity go out while I’ve been here.

Shrugging, I lean over to place the dagger next to the journal, intending to write their descriptions down and move on, but something stops me.

There’s something about the dagger that tugs at me. Instead of setting it to the side, I pull it closer. A quick check of the doorway verifies Cage is still in the hall, watching videos on his phone, not paying me any attention.

I wrap my hand around the hilt, admiring the way it feels in my palm. Soft, smooth, and oddly warm against my cold skin. Just like before, everything starts to feel hazy and dream-like.

I don’t think. I slide the blade from its sheath.

Behind the walls, a metal clicking sound echoes, making me jump.

I still, waiting to see if the lights will flicker again. When nothing else happens, my eyes flick back to the blade.

It shines. I don’t know much about steel but the iridescent gleam doesn’t seem normal. Looking closer, I notice tiny etchings in the metal. Lines and circles, engraved in intricate patterns that pull at my memory the way the blade pulls at my senses.

I almost feel like… I could read—or maybe understand—the delicate etchings if I focus enough. It’s like, when a word you can’t remember is right at the tip of your tongue, and you’re sure you can grasp it if you think hard enough.

Tentatively, I run a finger along the flat of the blade, shivering at the cool feel against my skin.