When I was kidnapped by Reyna, two fangs had pierced my neck and then I had fainted, unconscious. She’d said, “cobra venom” when I woke up, but with everything going on, I hadn’t had time to think about it yet. In fact, until now, I hadn’t considered it once.
Cobra venom. The only cobra I knew, the only cobra present in Waynard Academy at that moment…was Indra.
Mannix had been dropping hints all along, but I’d ignored them. Serpent-Bearer. The serpent. It was a direct hint.
And then, on top of that, my gut feeling to never trust snakes…
Now the cobalt snake venom was missing, and Indra was in the room with all of the Sigil Bearers.
I started running before the last thought fully clicked into place. I threw the door to the hallway open with all my weight, stumbling onto the corridor.
“What’s going on?” Saldor yelled after me, but his voice disappeared into the abyss.
Everything disappeared.
I shifted in record-time, and raced to the grand double doors leading to the Conclave gathering room and pushed them both open, groaning as I did so because of how heavy they were, even for my jaguar-self.
As soon as the doors were open, I shifted back into human form, more on reflex than anything else.
“No!” The sound was loud and guttural and escaped from my throat even before I fully registered the carnage in front of me.
The round table, majestic and gargantuan, in the middle of the room was riddled with corpses. The Sigil Bearers lay slumped forward, heads on the table, unmoving. Some of them still twisted, postmortem spasms, and seconds later, lay completely still.
Indra was nowhere to be seen.
How did she do it? Sure, she had the venom necessary, but how had she gotten all of them injected? If one of them was, surely the others would’ve rebelled, or cried out, or done something? We’d been right next door, and I hadn’t heard anything. No screams, no cries for help, nada.
One of the Sigil Bearers, lying on the floor, groaned.
One of them was still alive.
Balthazar Rollins.
Just my luck.
I rushed over toward him as he slowly lifted his head up. I’d hated this man for years, had despised him ever since I’d joined the Conclave. He’d done nothing but try to push my mother off the throne.
Now, I felt sorry for him. His face was a grimace, pale as a corpse, sweat dripping down his forehead. He tried to lean on his cane to get up, but kept dropping back to the floor, the strength escaping him.
“Rollins.” I knelt next to him. “Just lie still, okay. I’ll call an ambulance.”
As I spoke those words, Saldor appeared in the doorway. “Oh my God.” The old man fell against the wall, grabbing his heart.
“Call an ambulance!” I shouted at him. “Notify the others.” I wanted to do it myself, but I couldn’t very well leave Rollins. Even though I didn’t like him that much, no one deserved to die on their own.
I half-expected Saldor would fall over and die, too, but he straightened up and mumbled “Oh my God, oh my God,” while he staggered back to the hallway. Then, he started calling out in alarm. Besides the Sigil Bearers, there usually were at least thirty agents in the underground catacombs, and I soon heard footsteps approaching. Still far away, but getting nearer.
“Indra…” Rollins choked out the word. Drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. “She hypnotized us. Forced us to drink. I could resist a little…” He shook his head, tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. “Not long.”
“Stay calm,” I said, while I stroked his arm in a soothing gesture. “Help is on the way.”
“You…” Rollins struggled to get each word out. He reached for his hand and started pulling the sigil ring off his ring finger.
“What are you doing?” I asked, bewildered.
“Underestimated…you. You…Sigil Bearer.” He pushed the ring into my hands.
“No, no,” I protested. “I can’t…”
The rest of my protest fell on deaf ears. Rollins’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, revealing only white orbs, and his head slumped to the side.
He was dead.
All the Sigil Bearers of the Conclave of Shadows were dead.
I was the only Sigil Bearer left, and I swore I’d find Indra and Mannix and make them pay for what they did.
The End
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Author Majanka Verstraete has written more than twenty unique works of fiction. A native of Belgium, Majanka’s novels explore the true nature of monsters: the good, the bad, and just about every species in between. Her young adult books include the acclaimed Mirrorland (YA Dark Fantasy) and Angel of Death (YA Paranormal) series of novels. At MHB, Majanka is currently developing a new YA shifter series with a fresh take on fierce female detectives called THE ADVENTURES OF MARISOL HOLMES.
When she’s not writing, Majanka is probably playing World of Warcraft or catching up with the dozens of TV series she’s addicted to.
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A Study In Shifters Page 27