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My heart thundered in my chest so hard I thought it might burst. Still I ran, taking sharp turns down new corridors, getting lost almost until a familiar hallway came into view. One with a locking door at the end.
Lazarus’s library.
I pushed my feet faster, harder, knowing that if Cassius caught me, he might drain me nearly dry just to spite me. Lazarus would end him if he lost control, but I’d be too dead by then to care what happened to Cassius.
His footsteps grew closer and closer by the second.
I reached the double doors to Lazarus’s library at the end of the hall, tore inside, and immediately pushed a heavy table in front of the door. By the time I threw the lock and scrambled back from the only way into and out of this two-floor library, my chest heaved and sweat poured down my body.
The door would hold him for maybe thirty seconds if I was lucky.
Fuck. “Fuck!”
Why had I run? Why had I reacted? Reacting, fighting back, talking—it all only led to pain and being fed on more than I normally would have. And that it was Cassius too—a panicked sob escaped my throat as I saw in my mind’s eye Cassius lop Jackie’s body off of him again.
I spun. No. That wouldnotbe my fate. I just needed—just—just what?What could I possibly do?
Lazarus’s library was two-stories tall and filled with books, paintings, artifacts, and other treasures. I’d spent almost as much time in here helping to maintain it as I had forging. In that respect, I had it lucky amongst the feeders. My dangerous position so close to Lazarus and his elite vampires had afforded me much more time outside of my cell than most feeders had the luxury of. But paintings wouldn’t help me fight off Cassius or—
Escape.
My heart leapt into my throat. I swallowed thickly.
Was escape even possible? Of course, I’d thought of trying to escape over the past ten years. So many times. But never before had I been afforded this much alone time outside of my cell. Never before was it possible to maybe find a book of spells that could give me magic to escape. Or a weapon in here with which to fight. Lazarus had of course never let me keep the nightsteel blades I’d forged.
No, this would be my one and only shot to attempt something so daring as an escape.
And, if Cassius’s lack of control this morning and his hurt pride because of me was to be believed, this might be my only chance to live.
My jaw set hard as my gaze locked on Lazarus’s most ancient collection at the very top of the tallest bookshelf on the second floor, right next to the balcony. If Lazarus had any books with magic spells, they’d be up there. Maybe I could learn one quickly. Even a single fireball would help me survive for a few moments longer. And then more moments, and more until I, hopefully, got to the surface. Maybe.
Gods, there were so many unknowns. But for the first time in ten years, I saw a path forward to a future not stuck at a vampire’s fangs.
A painful lump of emotion had formed in my throat. I wanted that future so badly.
I ran up the steps as my breathing evened out, careful not to trip on my weakened legs, and grabbed the nearby ladder. Step by careful step, I climbed higher against the bookshelf and tried to ignore the way my blood dripped in large droplets from the still-open bite wound on my neck. If I managed to survive, it’d be just another scar amongst many on my neck, arms, and thighs. And if I died…
Well, then it wouldn’t really matter if I dripped blood on Lazarus’s ancient books, would it?
I combed the top shelf, but I recognized none of the languages. No title made sense. None of the pages within. Nothing clearly screamed “book of magic spells here.”
Gods, this was stupid. All of this had been foolish.
There was no way out of this feeding community. Lazarus and his people would use us and our bodies and then drain us dry. And that was the only fate that awaited me.
A gleaming rune on a spine caught my eye. A set of circles with a triangle. I bit my lip and pulled the small book from the shelf. Its pages had been torn and weathered, its leatherbound exterior aged with unknowable time. Next to the book sat a bag overflowing with gems and jewels. I licked my lips, a plan forming together. I scooped up the bag of gems and twisted it closed as best I could as a few excess gems and jewels tumbled to the ground. I looped the bag’s strings around my wrist. If I managed to escape, I could sell these and have money to start a life. Even a small one would be better than this.
A thunderous snap of wood echoed as Cassius finally broke through the door below. He let out a roar that reverberated through the library as he stumbled over the table I’d shoved in the way. “You little bitch!”
I couldn’t tell if he was more pissed about me rejecting him, or nailing him in the balls. Both, I supposed.
Panic caught in my throat. I returned my attention to the ancient book before me and skimmed the pages faster. Cassius’s heavy footsteps resounded through the room. As my eyes raced across the text, the strangest thing happened: the words became English. Thiswasa spell book! And this… the more I read, the more convinced I became that these pages in particular were a ritual of some sort. The page had an old illustration, faded some, that appeared to show a shadow forming from nothing, coalescing into some more solid, vaguely humanoid shape. Around it, runes spelled out the magic words.
“Please let this be a spell to become shadow,” I muttered as I began to read the text aloud. I’d gladly live out the rest of my days as shadow or smoke if it meant escape from Cassius in this very moment—and from Lazarus’s inevitable wrath once his amusement had run out. I’d seen him sic a half-dozen vampires on one male feeder for less.
The words seemed to rise from the page as I read them. Cassius stormed up the steps toward me. He was a tall, bulky man, the most aggressive of Lazarus’s elite, and right now, he was charging at me like he planned to rip my head off.
“Gods, help me!” I cried out as I stood, continuing to read the spell with a shaky voice lost to fear as I backed up. The bag of gems on my wrist swayed haphazardly. The more I spoke, and the closer Cassius got, the clearer the smell of smoke became. It wasn’t until I broke eye contact with Cassius and looked down at the page that I found the page burning in my hands and fire on my fingertips.
