Page 55 of Dhampira

Suppressing a shudder, I kept going.

Sweat dampened my hairline. A few times, the sound of voices sent me racing for the shadows, where I closed my eyes and asked the dragonstone dress to hide me. My shirt and trousers turned blue against a pair of velvet curtains. The leather grew coarse and scratchy when I knelt next to a painting of a horse that spanned the entire wall. Each time, I held my breath and appealed to the gods until the voices passed.

Five floors down, the carpet gave way to the glossy black stone of the Drakhold’s main level. A chill caressed my skin, and the ceilings soared. The stone walls grew damp, and a sharp, metallic scent seared my nose.

Blood.

Tinkling music and the chatter of a crowd drifted from a yawning archway. Through it, a pair of massive double doors were slightly ajar, a narrow slice of light spilling onto the floor. The scent of blood grew thicker.

The great hall. The courtiers from the hunt were feasting. I couldn’t go that way.

With one hand on the wall, I crept down a smaller corridor, my head on a swivel as I searched the shadows for knights or nobles. The sound of violins followed me, the melody occasionally interrupted by sharp laughter. A woman’s shriek dissolved into a high-pitched giggle. Goose bumps rushed down my arms. The scent of blood flooded my lungs, and the memory of Duncan’s body crashing into the hearth exploded in my mind.

My stomach pitched, hunger and disgust fighting a battle in my gut. My gums ached, my fangs threatening to descend even as nausea made my mouth water. Sweat beaded my forehead.

I couldn’t linger. Swallowing my fear, I shoved away from the wall and kept moving, following the curve of the corridor as it led away from the great hall. Cold air washed over me. The sounds of revelry faded, and the scent of damp stone replaced the coppery bite of blood.

My heart thumped faster. I had to be close to the grand foyer where Rasimir first greeted me. Paintings and tapestries lined the walls. The orbs fluttered above the candles. Somewhere, a clock ticked away the seconds. The rhythmic sound made its way into my head, urging me to go faster, faster, faster.

Ahead, the corridor branched in two directions. Slowing, I stayed close to the wall as I reached the split and peered around the corner.

And froze.

The corridor wasn’t a corridor at all. It was a nook of sorts, its wall dominated by a mirror that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The frame was as thick as my waist, its scrolling edges decorated with serpents. Their fangs were bared, and their bodies wove in and out of roses on thorny vines.

But the frame wasn’t what gave me pause. No, it was my reflection. In the mirror, I wore the dragonstone dress as I’d always seen it, the tight-fitting bodice swelling my breasts above the neckline. The black stones scattered down the skirt, their red centers pulsing with my heartbeat.

I looked down at my black boots and black leather trousers. Hand shaking, I touched the black shirt’s thin material. Lifting my head, I stared into the mirror as I fingered the gown’s silky fabric, my fingertips bumping over a stone that existed only in the mirror.

Whispers rushed around me. I spun, dizziness and fear swamping me in equal measure. But the corridor was deserted.

The whispers came again—this time, from the other direction. I whirled back to the mirror, my pale face and wide eyes greeting me.

Glowing eyes. Now the green was lighter in the center, my irises sheened with an animal’s luminescence.

The whispers continued, the faint murmurings low and indistinct. And they came from the mirror.

My eyes glowed more brightly. In the glass, my lips parted, the tips of my fangs white in the moonlight. My messy braid draped over my shoulder. Long strands of black hair clung to the other side of my neck.

Go. I had to go. I had to run while I could—while the guard outside my room slept and Rasimir’s courtiers were occupied with their feast. But I didn’t turn away. The whispers continued, and I strained toward them, struggling to catch a familiar word. A flush stained my cheeks. In the mirror, my eyes grew brighter. The stones in the dress flared brighter, too.

Help me understand, I mouthed, my gaze on my reflection. But the dress didn’t answer this time. The whispers rushed faster, and I moved forward, one hand lifting toward the glass.

Fingers clamped on my shoulder. I spun, a scream lodging in my throat, and came face-to-face with a hard-eyed Lorcan.

I jerked backward, trying to dislodge him as protests formed on my tongue. “I wasn’t—”

“Silence,” he hissed. Squeezing harder, he dragged me into the shadowed corner next to the mirror. When I struggled, he yanked me close and clapped a hand over my mouth. A second later, booted footsteps rang out.

“Bright out there tonight,” a man with a gruff voice said. The jangle of metal accompanied the footsteps, which grew louder as a second man replied.

“Aye. The captain doubled the patrols on all the major roads.”

“Expecting trouble?” the first man asked, the clanking sounds drowning the thump of my heartbeat in my head. Lorcan’s palm was hot against my lips. He clamped his other hand around my bicep. My backside lodged against one of his thighs.

A pair of knights rounded the corner and strode in the opposite direction, their crimson cloaks fluttering behind them.

“Always,” the second man grunted. “But it’s worse on a full moon. Those furry fucks get bolder when their blood is hot.”