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I pause.Where did that come from?
My family would never let anything bad happen to me either. My brother, the king, would protect me with his life.
Frowning at my wayward thoughts, I reach the bottom stairs, where fae males wearing the same kind of jacket I’m wearing zip past me and across the lower floors, disappearing into the shadows. A male climbs from the bottom steps on my right and pauses to lace his boots. They’re new, as is his uniform.
I recognize the uniform. It’s the same one from the toy soldier inside my drawer.
“Hey,” I say, but he doesn’t seem to hear or even see me. After lacing up his boots, he sprints into the shadows, the same shadows Nottuza walked out of yesterday.
More males and even two females, both of whom I recognize, climb from somewhere below and rush into the moving shadows. Alone on the floor, I have two choices. Run after them, or climb back upstairs and wait for someone, anyone, preferably the handsome general who will punish all the Unseelie fae for this game they’re playing with me right now.
I pick the shadows.
Even though I hate them. My mother used to travel with them and has taught my brothers and me to use them. We don’t often, though, because Unseelie portals make our skin crawl.
As I step near the shadows, they recoil as if they won’t offer to transport me, but they’re not sentient, so someone is controlling this method of travel.
“You will let me pass,” I demand.
The shadows still for a moment, then crawl over the floor. Before they have a chance to grab me and suck me into the unpleasant vortex, I step over them. I still get sucked into the vortex, though, and once the trip ends, I materialize someplace with dim lights behind a large group of fae all dressed in uniforms.
They’re crowding in front of the tall doors, pushing to get into a room with red lights. As I move aside and let the eager fae pass, I spot the fae who brought the dagger last night.
“Hey,” I whisper as if I’m doing something wrong.
He doesn’t respond.
When I grab his elbow, he tugs away and pushes his way through the people.
I wait until they’re all inside, and as the last person walks in, I follow them.
The room is round, with pulsing red engravings in the old fae language carved into the walls. The magic in the room creates an invisible barrier I struggle to push through. It’s a form of ward, and since only our military knows how to use wards in these modern times, I have no idea what I’m walking into.
My steps are heavy, as if the magic in the ward doesn’t want me to enter but has to allow it at the same time. I push through the threshold as if walking though knee-high mud. Once inside, I slide against the wall, remaining as quiet as a mouse. I’m not supposed to be here, that much is clear.
High ceilings with chains hanging from them tell me the space might have been used or is used as a torture chamber. Why anyone would need such a large torture chamber is puzzling. Nottuza would know, I bet.
The fae are all dressed in the same clothes, military uniforms, to be precise. They appear to know where they’re going, some stopping at designated spots and others maybe searching for theirs.
Near me is a bench.
I stand on it to get a better view.
Drawn on the floors are three concentric circles the fae are filling and once the circles are full of people and everyone stops moving, I get a better look at them. They all have red eyes now. Wha…
I gasp and crouch as Ledger, followed by Leroy, walks in. They move straight through the crowds. I try to make myself smaller as I realize I’m alone in the vampire den.
Quite literally.
Something terrible happened to these fae last night.
Oh my fates. I frantically search for Evie’s face, and when I don’t find her or spot the shape of her body among the people with their backs to me, I start cataloging the faces I do recognize.
“Good morning, three hundred,” Ledger says in that firm, loud way Commander D’Artaron would greet his soldiers.
Three hundred? The story about the iron bench and the vampire who made three hundred dead fae into vampires comes to mind. I’m so scared.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” the people answer as one.
