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My hands hit slick stone and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Stop!” I whispered.
Walker stopped just short of my back. His body heat radiated in the small space, especially in comparison to the chill of the ward that blocked the entrance.
There’s more of them?
My back muscles ached, and my stomach felt hollow—both were signs of using too much magic in too little of time—but I had to get through the wards somehow. If I kept us hidden, I wouldn’t need my magic for combat anyway.
I whispered the spell and forced my magic to temporarily unwind the wards. Walker shoved the heavy stone door open, and we entered a wider hall. Dim light filtered through windows that were at least twenty feet above us, built into a vaulted ceiling. Unlike the dingy exterior, this part of the castle actually resembled a castle.
The floors were such a bright white, they practically glowed. The walls were crafted from the same slick, black stone that the doors were constructed of. Red, silver, and purple tapestries hung on the walls. Some of them depicted battles and others showed portraits of pale figures. Ornate vases sat upon hand-crafted tables. Crystaline pitchers were filled to the brim with crimson liquid. Sculptures of kings and princes peered at us with vacant, stony gazes.
It was terribly lovely.
“We need to find a staircase that leads down to the vaults,” I reminded Walker. “It’s in the Master’s suite.”
His steps stuttered.
“Who’s the Master?” he asked.
“The Head Vampire,” I explained. “It’s important we don’t wake him.”
“Really?” he whisper-yelled. “You don’t want to stop to say hi? You never mentioned this part of the plan, Freya!”
I sighed. “Would it have mattered?”
“No,” he said and sighed. “I guess not.”
We walked as quietly as possible, but our steps still rang across the cavernous hall. We followed the main hall until it curved to the right, and a new hall branched to the left. It was nearly identical to the one we’d just traveled down, except more doorways lined its walls. This was their sleeping quarters.
My mother had described the place as a maze the one time she’d visited. Now that I thought about all the information she gathered from her vampire beau, I wondered if he’d been a mere tool for her.
Probably.
Witches rarely put much value in their fleeting romances.
We came across a grand set of double doors. It was bordered by glittering obsidian, and a red cross hung upside down above it.
“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” Walker whispered.
I agreed but shushed him. Now was not the time to critique the vampires’ interior design skills.
I grabbed one of the polished silver handles and sensed another ward to get through.
You can do this, I reminded myself. You have to.
Chapter Sixteen
Walker
Freya grabbed the silver handles of the ostentatiously named Master’s suite and whispered a spell. As the words left her mouth, her face grew pale. I wanted to ask if she was alright, but the door clicked open. I couldn’t risk waking the vampire, so I simply hurried through the doorway and immediately gagged.
Something sweeter than cheap perfume mingled with the dark scent of decay. I recognized it from the rotting animals I’d found in the woods and cows I’d had to remove from pastures.
Death.
To our left, three naked vampires rested on a huge, silver-framed bed—two women and a man. Most of their pale skin was covered by purple sheets. Their chests did not rise and fall with breath, and they lay as still as corpses.
