Chapter 53 53. Chapter
Aurora
The air of the armory shimmered with heat. My back was pressed against the cold stone pillar while Elijah’s body dominated every inch of my space. My legs were locked tightly around his waist, my hands tangled in his hair as if I needed something solid to anchor myself in the vortex of overwhelming desire. Here, among black steel weapons and dust-covered memories, the world ceased to exist. There was only the thunder of our blood and the bond, sending electric shocks through my nervous system with every touch.
Elijah’s mouth traced the line of my jaw, his breath hot against my skin, and he was just about to bury himself deeper into my neck when the House suddenly shuddered.
This was not an earthquake. It was something else. A deep, gut-level boom rolled through the walls, as if the building itself were screaming in pain.
We froze. Elijah lifted his head, his eyes still dark with desire, but his predatory instincts snapped into control instantly. He set me down, though one hand remained locked around my waist, as if he feared the floor might open beneath us.
“What was that?” I asked breathlessly, my hand dropping to the hilt of the dagger I had let fall moments earlier.
“The defenses,” Elijah hissed. “Something or someone has breached the outer ring. That should be impossible. Blackwood Manor’s fog is meant to make us invisible.”
The next instant, the massive iron-bound doors of the armory flew open on their own. No wind pushed them. It was a force without form. From the corridor beyond, black smoke poured inward, but it did not smell of fire. It reeked of rot and ancient magic.
“Aurora, behind me,” Elijah ordered, his sword already in hand. The blade glimmered with a bluish sheen in the smoke.
I did not retreat. I felt my dhampir blood boil. The smoke did not frighten me. Instead, my hearing sharpened. I caught whispers hidden inside it. These were not human voices. And not vampire ones either.
“Shadow Hunters,” Elijah muttered, and for the first time I heard real concern in his voice. “The High Council has slipped the leash. These are not living beings, Aurora. They are the Council’s ancient assassins, sustained by necromancy. No souls. Only orders.”
Three figures emerged from the smoke. Tall and unnaturally thin, their bodies were wrapped in dark, tattered shrouds. Where their faces should have been there was only a hollow void, inside which two faint red points glowed. They carried no weapons. Their hands ended in long, blade-like claws.
One of them spoke. The sound was like stone grinding against stone.
“The Sovereign and the Bastard. Judgment of the Council: death.”
“Bastard?” I hissed, rage flooding my vision. “I will show you what a bastard can do.”
Elijah moved first. He struck with a speed I could barely follow, his sword slicing straight through the first creature. But the Shadow Hunter did not bleed. The smoke simply parted and then reformed behind him.
“Silver will not work,” Elijah shouted as he barely deflected a claw that nearly tore his shoulder apart. “Use the House’s weapons. The ones it gave you.”
I remembered the two dark steel swords. They lay nearby. I grabbed them, and their weight felt perfect in my hands. I felt magic flow between the hilts and my palms.
“Hey, smoke faces,” I yelled, charging the nearest one.
I slashed horizontally. This time, the effect was immediate. The moment black steel met the creature, it shrieked in a sound that would have ruptured a human’s eardrums. Where the blade struck, the smoke did not reform. Instead, it ignited in bluish flames.
“It works,” I shouted, spinning and severing one of its arms.
Elijah switched weapons, ripping an ancient axe from the wall. We fought together in the confined space, our movements terrifyingly synchronized. Though we had never trained like this, the bond guided us. I knew when he would move left. He felt when to duck so I could strike over him.
The fight was brutal. The Shadow Hunters felt no pain and moved with inhuman speed. One of them managed to rake its claws across my thigh. Fabric tore, and hot blood ran down my leg.
“Aurora,” Elijah shouted, his fury crashing through the room like a physical wave.
I felt the wound, but the pain did not slow me. Seeing my own blood snapped something inside me. Dhampir hunger and battle frenzy fused together. Everything turned red. I felt the House’s power surge up through the floor, into my leg.
With one massive leap, I landed on the last Shadow Hunter, driving both swords into its head, straight into the glowing points that served as its eyes.
The creature exploded into dark energy. The shockwave hurled us both into the wall.
Silence followed. Only our heavy breathing and the drifting black ash in the armory bore witness to the fight.
Elijah was at my side instantly. He ignored the scrape on his own face and dropped to my thigh. The wound was deep, but as we watched, my blood slowed, then stopped. Dark veins pulsed around the gash, and the flesh visibly began to knit itself closed.
“This was not enough,” Elijah said grimly as he helped me stand. “If the Shadow Hunters found us, it means there is a breach inside the House. Or someone is helping them from within.”
“From within?” I scanned the shadows. “There are only the two of us here.”
Elijah looked toward the depths of the Manor, toward the cellars. “Not only us. This House is ancient. There are things here that have been longer than I have. And now that we have awakened the place, they are awake as well.”
I took his hand. His palm was bloody. So was mine.
“Then we find them,” I said coldly. “No more running. This is our home now. And anyone who enters uninvited does not leave.”
Elijah smiled. This time, the expression held nothing but lethal pride.
“You speak like a queen, Aurora. Perhaps you will come to accept the idea after all.”