Unsatisfied with her pathetic offering, the vampire flung the knife; it lodged deep into the door behind her with a thud. It took all of her restraint not to lash out, but one quick frisk later and she was free to pass.
Phoenix wasted no time moving through the halls, more convinced now that Darius wouldn’t allow his vamps to hurt her. At least not before he could. Regardless, adrenaline thrummed through her as she kept a close eye on her surroundings, all the while grasping desperately for a plan that might get Abi out alive.
In the space of what seemed like a heartbeat, she found herself once more standing in front of the entrance to the underground chamber. The door stood open, and the darkness beyond beckoned her forward for the final descent.
She faltered only for a moment, knowing that once she took the final step through the door, there would be no going back. Hell, maybe there’d never been a way back for her. Maybe she’d been screwed from the moment she found out about the prophecy.
As she crossed the threshold into the darkness, the same feeling of wrongness she’d felt previously enveloped her. It was stronger now, an almost palpable weight that made her every movement sluggish. She clenched her fists, and took slow, deep breaths through her nose, willing her heartbeat to calm. It would be no use, of course. Darius would hear the blood coursing through her veins. Like any good predator.
She came to the final bend before the steps would spill her out into the open chamber and paused. A low murmuring chant, rhythmic and almost hypnotic, came from the room beyond. A woman’s voice.
Phoenix was picturing the layout of the chamber, trying to wrack her memory for any possible cover, when Darius’s warm voice broke through her thoughts. “Phoenix, darling, how good of you to join us.”
Chills swept across her skin and she held herself frozen on the spot. Was he bluffing? A heartbeat. And then the sound of metal scraping against stone. Followed by a low whimper.
“Don’t you want to see your friend?” he asked, his voice projecting an almost amicable curiosity.
At the mention of Abi, her gut lurched. She took the last few steps that would bring her into view of the open chamber, fearing the sight that would greet her.
The flickering flame of candlelight cast ominous shadows around the already dark chamber. Phoenix’s eyes were immediately drawn to the stone altar where a woman stood, head bowed, arms extended towards the earth. It was from her that the chanting came, and from around her, the heaviest aura of magic seemed to fall.
Phoenix felt a brief flash of relief when she saw the altar empty, but the relief was short lived. As she cast her gaze around the chamber, she found her friend hanging by thick metal chains from the wall furthest away. Abi’s head was slumped forward. Her long hair was ragged with sweat and obscured the view of her face.
She could sense, almost better than she could see, the rise and fall of Abi’s chest as her heart frantically pumped blood around her body. And though her mind tried to shut out the implications, Phoenix could make out a number of tears in her friend’s clothes, flashes of pale skin shining in contrast to the dark clothing.
Darius stood next to Abi. His posture was friendly and relaxed, even as his fingers gently caressed the knives gleaming on a small folding table beside him. He smiled in welcome at her as she stepped into the room, but made no move in her direction.
The image was so disconcerting that for a moment Phoenix wanted to weep. He looked so like the man she’d known as a child that her mind struggled to comprehend the new reality she’d found herself in. So many memories from her childhood – all lies.
“Abi are you okay?”
She was proud of how steady her voice sounded. Darius would be able to sense her fear, but for her own sake, she needed to at least maintain the illusion of being calm.
“Oh, she’s fine.” Darius waved a hand dismissively, the reassuring sentiment somewhat lost by the fact that the hand held a long, gleaming knife.
Beside him, Abi raised her head. Slowly. As if the simple movement took all of her energy. Her face was pale and beads of sweat ran a trail down her forehead, but her eyes were a flame of blue defiance. Phoenix could feel the anger behind her friend’s glare and even through the darkness, she could see the implied order: leave.
Ignoring the burning glare – and the order – she edged cautiously into the chamber, assessing her surroundings for any hidden surprises.
“So, why did you call me here, Darius?”
The smile he turned on her was worse than any of the lethal blades he had close at hand. It was so reminiscent of the man she’d known and loved that her steps faltered yet again.
“Can’t a man just want to catch up with his favourite niece?”
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she shook her head sadly. “If you’d said that a couple of days ago, I’d probably have believed you … I’ve learned a lot since then, Uncle D.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgement and an almost rueful expression replaced the smile on his face. “I guess so.”
She pushed away the grief of acceptance and tried to focus on her surroundings. She needed a weapon, something that might give her even a fighting chance. Losing was inevitable, but she would damn sure cause some damage before she did. She was vaguely aware that Darius was still talking – something about Raphael overstepping his orders – when a glint against the wall caught her eye.
Almost hidden by the dark shadows of the chamber, she could just make out the curved blades that leaned against the stone wall barely ten feet from where Abi hung. It left her little room for error with Darius standing so close, but the options weren’t really stacked in her favour anyway, and there was something about the blades that drew her attention.
Needing to keep him distracted – that’s what they did in the movies, right? – she asked the question that was eating away at her. “Why did you do it, Uncle D? My parents trusted you.”
“They found out about the prophecy. They would have gotten in the way.” His tone was so matter of fact that the shock of it brought her to a complete stop.
“But why? Why do you want the prophecy fulfilled?”
The blade closest to her, a short sword with a curved edge made of a dark metal, was almost within reaching distance. But she didn’t move. Because on some soul deep level, Darius’s answer was more important than the weapon.
His expression changed to one of genuine surprise, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Have I taught you nothing, Phoenix? For power, of course.”
He actually seemed disappointed as he looked at her, and for a brief moment she was a child again, wanting desperately to make him proud. A stupid notion given she was obviously talking to a psychopath, but some habits were hard to break.
“This is not how it was,” he continued, staring vacantly at the altar. “Not how it should be. We were once worshipped as Gods. And now, we will be again.”
With a shake of his head, Darius turned his attention back to her, seeming to regroup. “Thanks to you we will regain our rightful place. The people who rejected you will bow down at your feet. Think about it, Phoenix.”
A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine. Whether from his words, or the growing fervour in his eyes, she wasn’t sure. “You’re insane.”
Anger flashed in his eyes, and she knew she had to do something. Pushing her abilities to their limits, she moved faster than she even believed herself capable of. As she grabbed the dark, curved blade closest to her, she lunged forward to place herself between Abi and Darius. Phoenix had a bare fraction of a second to register Darius’s lack of concern for her attack before the strangest thing happened. She froze.
Confusion hit her, followed swiftly by terror.
She couldn’t move. At all.
Her brain was screaming at her limbs, but there was just … nothing. Her muscles failed to contract, and her joints remained locked in position. Her hand clung desperately – and uselessly – to the blade it held. Darius’s laughter washed over her l
ike ice as she looked up to meet his black gaze.
“You always did have so much spunk.” A tilt of his head and the laughter faded. “Did you really think I’d be that foolish?”
“Well, a girl can dream,” she said, relieved to find herself able to speak as she pulled her reflex for sarcasm around her like a comfort blanket.
“I think it would be best if you drop the knife now, Phoenix.”
Just like that, the blade fell from her grasp and hit the ground with a clatter. There’d been no change in the grip of her hand. How had the knife fallen? She gritted her teeth and tried to push through the inertia, but everything from the neck down remained still. Panic began to build to such an overwhelming degree that she almost missed it – the heavy weight of witchcraft, wrapping itself around her like a snake.
And she knew she was truly in deep shit.
I let him trick me.
As the realisation dawned on Phoenix, her panic was temporarily overshadowed by anger. Anger at Darius for not being the man she looked up to. Anger at the witch for betraying her calling. Anger at fate for dealing her such a fucked-up hand. And mostly, anger at herself.
How could she help Abi when she couldn’t even help herself?
With that thought, her attention was pulled back to the wall behind her. Testing the limitations of her movement, Phoenix twisted her head as far as she could while her body was held in stasis. The muscles protested, but still she strained, needing to see her friend.
Familiar blue eyes met hers, filled with a sorrow that made her want to weep. But there was no judgement, no anger. There should have been both.
“Abi …” she whispered, but the word died on her lips as she grasped in vain for a way to convey how sorry she was.
Steel took the place of sorrow in her friend’s eyes as Abi shook her head firmly, shutting down anything more she might say.
The sound of scraping metal made Phoenix’s heart jump, and she quickly shifted her gaze back to Darius. There was no time left for self-indulgent pity.
He seemed momentarily oblivious of her as he sharpened a roughly hewn blade on the edge of a jagged stone. The metal of the blade was dull and any real sense of craftmanship was missing, but it appeared well-used, and there was very little question of the damage it could cause. Darius looked up as she watched him in silence, his black gaze meeting hers briefly before flicking back to admire the sharp edge.
“Your mother was fond of this blade,” he said. “She could refrain from screaming for so many of my other toys. But this one” – he turned the blade slowly from side to side – “this one she screamed for.”
Phoenix clenched her jaw so tight it made her teeth ache. Anger turned her blood to molten lava, but she forced herself to remain quiet.
“It’s strange really,” Darius continued, unperturbed. “It’s not even made of iron. In fact, I’m not really sure what it’s made of, just that it’s very old. It was my Master’s favourite toy.”
He moved towards her with slow, deliberate steps, while his fingers played along the edge of the blade. As he stopped in front of her, she looked up and found herself face to face with a complete stranger. There was no sense of recognition, no affection remaining in his eyes, just a strange luminescence that leant itself to the semblance of crazy.
Slowly, he trailed the flat edge of the blade down her cheek; the cold metal unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Like ice, it scalded her wherever it touched. Phoenix held her breath and waited for the sharp sting to follow, but Darius merely continued talking as he ran the blade almost absently down the line of her jaw, burning a path down her neck.
“Your father stopped screaming far too early for my liking. He really was no fun at all.”
Phoenix felt her breath freeze in her chest.
“I really thought he’d give in.” Darius’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I was so sure he couldn’t resist forever. Not when her sweet blood was so close.”
Realisation hit like a forty-foot truck, and suddenly Phoenix knew. Knew what her mother had kept from her. Knew that if Darius had succeeded, it would’ve been a fate worse than death for her father.
“You starved him.” The words left her mouth in a whisper of disbelief. The horror she felt was so vast that she couldn’t even find words to describe it.
He looked at her in surprise. “Well, of course. Although, I guess it’s really a matter of perspective since he had such a tasty food source so close at hand.”
The ice that had begun to fill her veins at the touch of his blade, turned to flames, burning through her like wildfire. She struggled with everything she had against the magic that held her, but even her rage was not enough to break the invisible bonds.
“I swear to you, Darius, on my very life, that I will find a way to make you pay.”
Cold laughter filled the chamber. “Oh, don’t worry, Phoenix, dear, I don’t require your life just yet.”
And with that, he slashed the blade downwards.
For a moment confusion was the only thing Phoenix felt, then a searing pain tore up her left arm. She was dimly aware of Abi’s screams as she looked down to see a thin line of blood trickle down her arm. Funny, it hurt so much more than it should for such a shallow cut.
Darius stared at the blood, mesmerised, and she could almost feel the force of the hunger coming off him. “So much power,” he muttered, as he reached for a dull metal bowl on the table beside him.
He held the bowl under her wrist, watching as the blood drew a path down towards her fingers, and slowly dripped into the waiting container. A sense of dread purer than anything she’d ever felt before swept through her, and she twisted her head once more to focus on her friend.
The look of terror on Abi’s face grounded her in a way that nothing else could. She committed every line of Abi’s face to memory and swore to herself that her friend would not die here with her. Not like this. She closed her eyes and tried to focus deep inside herself for any thread of power she could grasp.
All of a sudden, the chamber around her was filled with silence, and it took her a moment to realise that the low murmuring chant of the witch had stopped.
When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to find that Darius was no longer standing in front of her. It took her another precious few moments to realise that the indescribable heaviness had also lifted from her. And when she tried once more to move her fingers, they miraculously responded. Aware that her window of opportunity was narrow at best, she dived for the blade Darius had discarded on the table in exchange for the bowl.
His rich laughter filled the silence around her, skittering over her skin. “Oh, Phoenix, have we not already established how futile it is for you to fight me?”
He was right of course. She wasn’t strong enough to beat him, but that didn’t mean she would stop trying. She clung desperately to the blade and wracked her brain for any kind of plan that would get Abi free. Suddenly, Darius’s words came back to her. I don’t require your life just yet.
He may not require it, but he wouldn’t keep her alive if he didn’t need to. Would he?
Turning to face Darius once more, Phoenix flipped the blade towards herself, the sharpened tip poised directly over her thumping heart as her eyes met his defiantly. His flinch was so fleeting, the mask so quickly back in place, that if she hadn’t been watching for a reaction, she’d have missed it.
“You have what you want now, Darius. Let Abi go. This has nothing to do with her.”
He laughed again, but something in his tone rang so much hollower this time. “Now why would I let my leverage go?”
“I’ll make this very simple.” She pressed the icy edge of the blade closer and felt the cold seep through to her very soul as the blade met the resistance of her chest. “Let her go or I will end this, and you’ll never see your precious prophecy fulfilled.”
The eyes that stared back at her blazed with a fury unlike any she’d ever seen, and for a moment Phoenix felt true fear. But instinct told
her that her assumption had been right, and that knowledge brought with it a strange sense of calm.
She wasn’t afraid to die. Not if it meant Abi would live.
For an eternity Darius simply watched her, as if trying to read her thoughts and decide if she was bluffing.
She wasn’t.
As if coming to the same conclusion, he shrugged nonchalantly. “If you’re going to make a big deal of it, the human can go. She really is of no interest to me now that she has served her purpose. Humans are far too … breakable.”
Abi struggled against her restraints, stretching towards Phoenix with muffled protests. Blue eyes blazed their anger and she shook her head, pointlessly refuting the trade that had been made.
With effort, Phoenix ignored her friend, keeping her emotions in check and her gaze firmly locked on Darius. She nodded for him to unlock the chains and held her breath as she waited for the slightest twitch that might indicate betrayal.
He reached one hand slowly towards the key hanging on the wall to the right of Abi. His other hand was slightly hidden from sight. A split-second flash of fangs was her only clue, and knowing she’d never reach Abi in time, Phoenix turned the blade from her chest and flung it towards Darius’s head in blind panic.
The blade missed by millimetres, lodging in the stone wall with a thud.
Darius smiled at her, a victorious glint in his eyes. As he stalked towards her, Phoenix heard it – a loud inhuman roar, followed by a commotion that could only mean one thing. Help had arrived.
The sight that met Ethan’s eyes as he forced his way into the chamber made his blood run cold and his vision cloud red. Phoenix was on the opposite side of the room, about as far from him as it was possible to be. A vampire he could only assume to be Darius stood facing her, much too close for comfort.
3 Minutes to Midnight: Urban Fantasy Midnight Trilogy Book 1 Page 19