Crimson Threads

Crimson Threads

Sebastian's POV
The glass vial broke in my hand, sending droplets of ancient blood across the stone floor. I cursed under my breath. Five hundred years old, and still awkward when excited.
"Careful," warned Octavian, my master and the oldest vampire in Ravenshadow City. "That blood is over a thousand years old."
"Sorry," I mumbled, stooping to dab at the spilled drops with a cloth. Even after so many centuries, Octavian still made me feel like a newborn vampire, stumbling through his first night.
We were deep beneath the Crimson Depths, my faction's base, in a secret room that even most vampires didn't know existed. The walls were lined with books and scrolls older than most countries, and the table before us held jewels I'd never seen before.
"What is all this?" I asked, carefully unrolling a paper written in a language I barely recognized.
"Our true history," Octavian said. "The parts we've hidden from the werewolves, the witches... and our own kind."
My eyes widened as I scanned the old text. "Blood magic? But this is banned."
"Forbidden now," Octavian amended. "But it was once the source of our greatest power. Before the Void corrupted it."
My mind raced. According to these scrolls, vampires once practiced a type of magic that matched the witches' powers. A magic based on blood—not just drinking it, but knowing the secrets hidden within it.
"Is this how you've lived so long?" I asked. At nearly two thousand years old, Octavian was ancient even by vampire standards.
"Partly," he admitted. "But there's more to it. Read this part."
I leaned in, translating the faded script: "'When the blood of three becomes one, true immortality is achieved.'"
"The hybrid blood," I whispered, understanding coming. "Like Elara's."
Octavian nodded. "The witch queen wasn't the first to try creating hybrids. Vampires tried it long ago. Most attempts failed horribly, but a few..."
"A few succeeded," I finished. "And their blood granted powers beyond what any single race could achieve."
"Exactly." Octavian rolled up the scroll. "Which brings me to why I showed you this now. The monument's timer, the seven hybrids—it's all happened before."
I looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"Every seven thousand years, the stars align. Seven mutants are born. The Void grows stronger. The door between places thins." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Last time, the vampires tried to use the hybrids' blood to gain power. It ended... badly."
A chill ran down my spine. "How badly?"
"The fall of Atlantis badly."
I would have laughed if Octavian's face wasn't so serious. "Atlantis was real?"
"Very real. And very advanced. They learned to control the power of all three bloods. But the Void twisted their leaders, turned them against each other."
My phone buzzed with a message from Elara: Where are you? We're going to Old Harbor to find the next hybrid. Vex is helping us.
Vex. The claimed ex-Harbinger who'd shown up out of nowhere. I didn't trust him, even if Elara seemed willing to give him a chance.
"Sebastian," Octavian said, pulling my attention back. "There's another reason I'm showing you this now."
He put a wooden box on the table and opened it. Inside was a bottle of red liquid that seemed to glow from within.
"Is that—"
"Hybrid blood," he confirmed. "From the last cycle, seven thousand years ago. I've kept it secret all this time."
"How did you get it?"
Octavian looked away. "I was there. I was young then, barely a century old. My maker was one of those who tried to use the hybrids' power."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You're saying you witnessed the fall of Atlantis?"
"I barely escaped it," he corrected. "And I've spent thousands of years ensuring it wouldn't happen again. But now..."
"Now the cycle is repeating," I said.
"And you must choose a different path." Octavian pushed the box toward me. "This blood could strengthen our group. Make us strong enough to protect ourselves when the Void fully returns. Or..."
"Or it could start us down the same path that destroyed Atlantis," I finished.
My phone buzzed again. This time from Victor, my second-in-command: Emergency at the east gate. House Nightshade representatives demanding entry. Armed.
House Nightshade was one of the oldest vampire houses, enemies to my Midnight Syndicate. If they were at our gates, it couldn't be good.
"I need to go," I told Octavian. "House Nightshade is here."
His face darkened. "They've heard about your partnership with the werewolf and the hybrid. They won't approve."
"I don't need their approval," I said, standing taller. "Times are changing."
"Be careful, Sebastian," Octavian warned. "Change comes slowly to our kind. Too slowly."
As I turned to leave, he added, "What will you do about the blood?"
I paused. The ancient blood could give my group an edge over houses like Nightshade. But using it meant hiding secrets from Elara and Thorne—secrets that could destroy the fragile trust we'd built.
"I'll let you know," I said, and hurried toward the east gate.
I arrived to find Victor and five of my men facing off against three vampires dressed in black. The one in front, Lady Sylvia Nightshade, smiled coldly when she saw me.
"Sebastian Devereux," she purred. "Playing with wolves and witches now?"
"State your business, Lady Nightshade," I said, keeping my voice level.
"The Council of Houses has concerns about your recent... activities." She gave me a sealed letter. "This is an official punishment. You are told to sever ties with the wolf-pack and the hybrid immediately."
I broke the cover and scanned the letter. It was worse than a censure—it was a threat. Comply or face removal as head of the Midnight Syndicate.
"The old ways are dying, Sylvia," I said, folding the letter and putting it in my pocket. "The monument's countdown has started. The Void is back. We need friends, not more enemies."
"Spoken like a true traitor," she snapped. "We've tolerated your radical ideas for too long, Sebastian. Blood is everything. Purity is strength."
"Purity led to stagnation," I replied. "Look around you—the world is changing. The hybrids—"
"Are abominations," she interrupted. "The Council has voted. Any vampire who helps the hybrids will be declared Blood-Forsaken."
Blood-Forsaken—the worst sentence a vampire could face. Cut off from all houses, hunted by their own kind.
My phone buzzed a third time. From Elara: Sebastian, we found something at Old Harbor. The seventh combination is a CHILD. Need you here now.
I looked up at Lady Nightshade, my choice made. "Tell the Council my answer is no."
Her eyes flashed red. "Then the Midnight Syndicate will need a new leader."
She moved faster than even my eyes could track, a silver knife suddenly in her hand. I twisted away, but not fast enough—the blade sliced across my chest, burning like fire.
Silver. Poisonous to vampires.
My guards leap forward, forcing Lady Nightshade and her friends back. Victor helped me to my feet as I put a hand to my wounded chest.
"Get them out of here," I ordered, feeling the silver poison spreading through my veins.
As Lady Nightshade was dragged away, she called back, "This isn't over, Sebastian! The Council knows about the old blood magic! They know what you're hiding!"
Victor looked at me in confusion. "What is she talking about?"
"Nothing," I lied, groaning as the poison burned deeper. I needed to get to Elara. The wound was dangerous, and only a witch could heal silver poisoning.
But as I stumbled toward my car, a thought struck me. If the Council knew about the old blood magic... how? Only Octavian and I had entered that secret room.
Unless...
I pulled out my phone to call Octavian, but the screen was already lit with an incoming call—from a number I didn't recognize.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Sebastian Devereux?" came a child's voice, soft and sweet. "I've been waiting for you."
"Who is this?" I ordered, suddenly cold despite the poison's fever.
"The seventh hybrid," the child answered. "And I know what you found in the secret room. The crimson threads are already linking our minds. Your blood and mine. Use it, Sebastian. Use the old magic. It's the only way any of us will survive what's coming."
The phone went dead in my hand. And at that exact moment, every vampire in the Crimson Depths let out an identical scream of pain.