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“I will return as soon as I can. However, if you ever risk my life again because you are upset, then I will let you rot down here for another three hundred years.” The words come without thought and hold the promise of suffering that I have only ever heard from vampires and demons.
I hate how much self-control it takes to keep my emotions steady, preventing them from seeping out. Then I slip out of the cell, closing the door quietly behind me, and then make my way to the upper levels of Nightwich.
* * *
Perched on a stool in the back corner of the kitchen, out of the way of the staff, I gaze out through the doorway, propped open for the winter air to offer a reprieve from the stifling air heated by several fires and ovens. I am so consumed by my thoughts that I barely taste my meal.
Moonlight reflects off the barren mountains bordering the western side of the castle. There is, what I estimate to be a field, stretching for roughly five miles between here and the jagged terrain of the foothills, speckled with sparse clusters of gnarled and twisted trees.
A patch of land peeks out from a gap. I squint and try to make out whatever it is. The longer I focus, the more similar spots appear until I can follow a path meandering into the mountains.
I frown. How could I have missed something so obvious before? It makes me think of Oliver. It would be too much of a coincidence if that path led directly to his pack.
Scoffing, I shake away my wild imagination. Oliver said it would be safe there, and a clear route from the backdoor of this castle would be anything other than safe.
As brief as that imaginative diversion was, it did help me to regain much-needed control over my emotions. Though it will still be some time before I am ready to forgive Varin fully, but almost three days have passed since Alaric was cursed, and I have made no headway. Allowing petty grudges to get in the way will only hurt him.
I take the pair of kid leather gloves I grabbed from my trunk before coming to the kitchens, and pull them on, hiding the band that connects me to Varin. Then I stand and weave between gold platers, piled with food as a bevy of servants take them to their destinations. There are still several hours before dawn that the demon and I can put to use.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLARA
Cherno followsme through the main corridor. They circle my head several times before landing on my shoulder. Then, as if I wasn’t already aware of the demon’s presence, they yank on a lock of hair.
I turn a glare on them. “Are you trying to rip it out of my scalp?”
“Clara, please, find another way,” the tiny demon pleads. “Alaric wouldn’t want—”
“I had to take the chance… besides, it’s already done. It’s too late to do anything about it now,” I say, turning a corner.
Most of the courtiers and guards ignore my presence. Only a few deign to send a passing glance in my direction. For the most part, humans are beneath their notice. To do so would imply they have some semblance of importance to the vampire court, rather than something easily disposed of at their whims, allowed to live by the grace bestowed upon us.
By now, the way I head is so deeply ingrained that my feet take me there by habit. When we first arrived, the halls felt labyrinthine. It’s a wonder I never became hopelessly lost when there is always another corridor I’ve never noticed before, seeming to appear from thin air.
After what happened between Varin and me earlier, more training is one of the last things I want to do tonight, but just thinking of Alaric gets my feet moving and spurs me to do what is needed.
Careful to keep my pace leisurely, I pause occasionally, using the excuse of admiring paintings or suits of armor to check if I am being followed. The last thing I need is someone tailing me to the lower levels.
A handful of turns later, things are quiet. It’s the kind of quiet that will allow me to slip easily into the concealed stairwell without bringing a vampire with ill-intentions down on me. Cherno shifts and tugs on my hair again.
“I wouldn’t be doing this if there was anything else I could do.”
Cherno grumbles, then wilts, draping themselves over my shoulder. “Be careful.”
“I will.” I can’t help but smile as I reach to pet between their two large, pointed ears. “Besides, I have you with me. I couldn’t ask for a better escort.”
They chirp in what sounds like determined agreement.
I’m unsure how much of their worries are solely Cherno’s or if they voice my own, so I don’t have to. I push the thought away.
No. I did what I had to. Alaric sacrificed himself to Elizabeth, giving in to a fate he never wanted. And he did it for my sake. I cannot turn my back on him and walk away. Reaffirming my decision strengthens my resolve to see this through.
A final turn and the stairwell leading down to the lower levels comes into view. As far as I’ve seen, no one else has noticed the darkened gap between the wall and the spiral staircase leading to the mezzanine on the second floor. But if one bothers to look past the shadows shrouding the corner, it is as plain as day.
Halfway there, I slow my pace when the pounding steady of heavy footsteps thud behind me. I throw a glance over my shoulder. Two guards are striding down the hall. They are not merely patrolling—they are on a mission. I move off to the side, press my back against the wall, then wait for them to pass.
Except, their gazes narrow in on me.
