*CHAPTER 60*

*CHAPTER 60*
I couldn't make out what the voice was saying at first, but as we moved closer, the lilting accent of the voice became clear.

There was something weirdly familiar about the voice. The raspiness of it.

I'd forgotten the wall was still down between Malcolm and me until his voice in my head reminded me. 'It's the same voice from the vision you had of George.'

That explained it.

A part of me still worried that the visions were mini psychotic breaks and not visions at all. With the proof that what I'd seen was real and staring me in the face—that I really had seen those people before they'd died and that that there was proof—was enough to send a shiver down my spine. I followed closely behind Malcolm as he crept soundlessly to the open doorway—until the voice became clear. We crouched near the entrance, lower to the ground.

The man's voice echoed from the cinder block room, "There's no point in struggling, I'm afraid."

There was a low muffled sound that must have been Caleb. I felt Malcolm tense beside me. Caleb. He was alive. My heart thudded in a rush of relief. I leaned forward instinctually, wanting to sprint around the corner and grab him. Malcolm's hand grabbed my arm and gave a single shake of his head.

"Sorry, you'll have to say that again, I couldn't hear you past everything in your mouth. And there's not point in reaching for your Magic. As I'm sure you've noticed by now, I've placed a Block on it. We couldn't have you trying to escape while I'm working, now could we? You Air Elementals are all so shifty and conniving, I couldn't take any risks, you see. No matter, though. Soon you'll be thanking me. Thanking me for being able to be a part of something greater than yourself."

The shadow of a figure moved in the light seeping on the concrete.

"You see," the voice continued, "I'd had it wrong all this time. The books are so unclear. When they called for a sacrifice, they didn't specify the offering had to be left alive. So much waste," he tsked, and there was a scrape of something large being moved across the concrete floor, dragging, "Now though, now I finally have it right. And the Father won't be able to deny me a place at his side anymore. I've earned it. And it's high time I get what I deserve."

My eyes drifted to Malcolm. In the partial light, his eyes were blazing with that flash of low burning gold. The one that overtook the green when he was focused like a flicker of fire. He was focused on the doorway, watching the shadows moving along the ground as I was. His hands were in fists on his crouched knees.

What are we waiting for? I demanded.

'Just wait. We need to be smart about this.'

I raised my eyebrows at him when he sent a flash of a glance down at me.

'If we just go rushing in there, there's a higher chance Caleb will get hurt in the crossfire. The last thing we need is for him to be used as some sort of hostage.'

"You see," the man continued, "you and I aren't so different you know. Both of us blessed by the universe with gifts. Gifts that make us higher, better. That's always been the natural order of things—predator and prey. Strong versus the weak. Survival of the fittest. It's the universe's way of pushing us to be better, striving for more."

The potent and cloying scent of smoky sweetness and rot grew stronger, my nose wrinkled. He was using Blood Magic.

"But the Father's taught me that there's more power to be had. More to strive for. The universe has blessed our kind with the power to be at the top—that's what I'd always assumed. The Father has shown me my own weakness, though. Our Weakness. Blood Magic."

I felt my entire body tense at his words, heart skipping a painful beat, but I didn't have time to contemplate what that meant, as he continued.

"We control the Elements, but they control us. Until now."

There was more scraping along the pavement.

The smell of something hot and spicy tickled the back of my throat.

"You see, the Father tasked me with finding more Blood Magicians to join his ranks. And while I was searching, it occurred to me. Why would I look for Blood Magicians, something that barely exists anymore, when you can create them? As soon as I show the Father what I can do, he'll welcome me to the place at his side with open arms. I'll give you a piece of advice. When I'm finished with you, you would do well to find your place in his ranks as well. The world is shifting. And you either find your place with the forces that change it, or you get devoured."

Mixed in with the scent of Blood Magic, the familiar tickling heat in my throat intensified. It took me a moment to recognize it for what it was and I shifted in surprise.

Malcolm, he has Fire Magic. Like you.

Malcolm's brows drew together.

Something scraped on the pavement behind us. The tickle of a breeze along the back of my neck. The feel of a hot breath.

"My, my, what do we have here?"

The creature behind us had black eyes, it's chapped lips angled up in a smile that had my stomach curdling in horror. The familiarity of the needle-like teeth only a few foot away from my face, had me scuttling back against the wall.

Vampire.

The sound of Malcolm's internal swearing was the only accompaniment to the fear lancing through me as the vampire launched itself at Malcolm. A torch of fire exploded from Malcolm's hands, but not fast enough. The vampire had latched it's needle-like teeth into his shoulder. He sent a wave of flames at the creature that had it releasing its bite with a hiss.

The vampire took a step back, it's beady eyes narrowed, blood dripping on it's needle-like teeth. Malcolm's figure drooped against the wall behind us. He sent another wave of fire at the vampire, but his motions were slower this time, the venom already taking effect. The creature easily dodged the flames dancing at its feet.

"What are you doing out there, Laurent?" The man's calm casual voice grew louder as he approached.

With a long purple, reptile-like tongue, the vampire licked Malcolm's blood from his lips, "We have guests."