Page 64 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

A few seconds later, the door opened just enough for Raven to appear.

She looked wrecked. The polished veneer she usually wore—the dark lipstick, razor gaze, and coiled predator’s poise—had dulled. Strands of black hair had slipped free of her braid, her clothes were rumpled, shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes. Even her magic felt thin, like a candle fighting to stay lit.

“Finally,” she murmured, voice low and frayed. She stepped back to let us in. “He’s sleeping again. Don’t wake him unless you have to.”

The room was dim, curtains drawn to block what little daylight bled through the storm. The air smelled of burnt sage and blood—the old kind, thick and metallic, the sort used in rituals. Candles burned on the dresser, their flames steady and pale.

Rene lay on the great four-poster bed, as still as carved stone. His skin had lost its usual warm tone, replaced by a gray cast. The hollows beneath his cheekbones were deeper, his lips almost colorless.

Con’s jaw tightened as he stepped closer. “How long has he been like this?”

“Since dawn,” Raven said softly. “He woke once. Long enough to tell me to keep everyone out. Then he lost consciousness again.”

I glanced at the bedside table. Three empty vials lay scattered across the polished surface—blood infusions, judging by the lingering scent. “Has he fed?”

Raven shook her head. “Not enough. He can’t hold it. His body rejects everything we try. Even my blood doesn’t help anymore.”

Her voice caught on that last word, and she looked away, swallowing hard.

Con studied Rene for a long moment, his expression unreadable, hands curling into fists at his sides. “He’s fading,” he said quietly.

Raven dipped her chin in a jerky nod. “I’ve run every test I can think of. It’s not alchemical. Not purely magical either. It’s something else.”

“Maybe it’s similar to what they’re using on the enhanced humans,” I murmured.

She looked up quickly, eyes narrowing. “You saw them?”

I nodded. “They ambushed us after the cave. There were dozens. Faster, stronger, disciplined. We barely got out with the artifact.”

Con’s voice dropped, dangerous and controlled. “And they knew exactly what they were after.”

Raven’s mouth thinned. “Then it’s worse than I thought.”

I looked back at Rene. The rise and fall of his chest was barely visible. The man who had led our kind for centuries—the immortal king of the vampires—looked fragile in a way I’d never believed possible.

My phone buzzed, the vibration abrupt in the hush. I pulled it from my jacket and glanced at the message.

Julian.

Need you in conference room. Now. Found something.

“I have to go,” I said.

Con lifted his head, questioning, and I held the screen out for him to read. He offered a nod, then turned to Raven. “We’ll be back. Don’t let anyone in.”

“Like I’d let anyone near him,” she muttered, but her voice was soft, protective.

We slipped out, the door closing behind us with a muted thud. The walk back to the central wing felt longer than it should have.

When we reached the conference room, Julian was already there. He stood near the table, surrounded by stacks of open files and digital maps projected across the surface. His dark eyes lifted as we entered, sharpened by focus.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual dry humor.

I pulled the artifact from my bag and set it gently on the table. Its dull golden sheen caught the overhead light, the runes etched across its surface pulsing.

“Another one,” Julian said, leaning in. “Same material, same markings. It matches the others.”

“It’s another piece of the Pentacoris,” Con said.