Page 19 of The Shadows of Excess

“Hang on, Sawyer. Just hang on,” he murmured with a softness he rarely showed. As the edges of my vision blurred, the last thing I saw was Damon’s worried face, a silent vow to protect me no matter what.

* * *

I found myself in a cavernous space, strikingly similar to the catacombs beneath St. Marinus Abbey. My arm was so hot I thought the tattoo would burn through my flesh. I jerked up my sleeve, and the roses were the same color as a hot stove. Great.

I pulled it down and looked around. I had never been here before. A bone-chilling cold seeped through my clothes, making me shiver. Flickering torches dimly lit the cave, casting haunting shadows on the walls, their light struggling against the oppressive darkness.

As I navigated the narrow corridor, I felt the darkness behind me stretch endlessly, like a ravenous void eager to swallow me whole. An unsettling sensation crept over me, the eerie feeling of being followed by something lurking just beyond sight. Each step I took echoed through the vast space, betraying my presence to whatever unseen entity might be near.

It reminded me of the disquiet I felt near the abandoned diner, the site of Justice’s attack. Someone, or something, was observing me from afar. My heart pounded as I quickened my pace, desperate to escape this malevolent place.

My fingers searched frantically for any form of protection, but my body was stripped of its usual arsenal. No gun, no blade. An alarming departure from my usual readiness. Panic surged in my chest. I was alone in this forsaken cave. Damon would never have allowed me to enter this dangerous place without backup. Yet, here I was, forced to move forward, each step echoing off the walls, announcing my presence.

With every hesitant step, I winced as the sound reverberated. I looked over my shoulder and froze. The darkness seemed to follow me, alive and sinister. The torches flickered and dimmed with my movements as if the darkness itself was smothering their light, threatening to consume me.

In a burst of desperation, I broke into a run, but the darkness matched my pace. Ahead were three lit tunnels. I veered right, hoping to escape, but skidded to a halt before an altar. There, a blonde woman lay motionless. It was Lisa, the witch we had been searching for, her body adorned with strange coins bearing the symbols we had seen in the Shadow Mine.

“Hello, Sawyer,” a male voice whispered chillingly from behind.

Shit-shit-shit-shit.

I recognized that eerie voice. It was the same one I heard in The Grove’s parking lot and out on the street near the cafe.

Resisting the urge to turn proved futile as an unseen force grabbed my arm, spinning me around. The darkness dissipated, revealing a robed figure with piercing red eyes, his face obscured in shadows. A demon. Fear constricted my throat, my breaths coming in short gasps. Was he the embodiment of the darkness? What kind of demon had such power?

Before I could utter a word, his hand moved, silencing me, leaving only a pitiful squeak in its wake.

“You cannot speak, beautiful girl,” he taunted. “I have a message for you. We want Aurora. We merely wounded the vampire. Next time, we will kill someone you love.”

Aurora? Who was that? Confusion and fear mingled in my wide eyes.

“I’m going to give you something to remember me by…”

He grabbed my arm, then jerked back as if he had been shocked. He held his wrist, staring at his palm. A rose was etched onto his flesh. “You’ll pay for that.”

With vehemence in his eyes, he raised his hand. Long fingernails inched from his fingers like knives. He swiped his hand, slashing into my flesh.

Unbearable pain sliced through my arm.

“You have until the next full moon to find Aurora. Only she can save you. If not, I’ll claim your soul.” He broke into a diabolical laugh.

I woke abruptly, screaming and clutching at my stinging arm. Blood seeped through my fingers.

A hand squeezed mine, pulling me back to reality.

“Sawyer. Sawyer, it’s okay. You’re safe,” a familiar voice soothed.

I blinked against the bright lights and found myself staring into Damon’s worried blue eyes. “Damon?” I whispered, disoriented. “Where am I?”

He offered a small, strained smile. “Hospital. Thanks to the bloodsucking fiend.”

I couldn’t answer as I tried to catch my breath, still expecting to be in that cave. The confusion in my brain faded as I scanned the stark, clinical whiteness of the hospital room, its reality a stark contrast to the nightmarish visions. The pristine walls were interrupted only by a few pieces of medical equipment and a small, unadorned clock.

My room had a sterile, sanitized smell mixed with the faint scent of antiseptic. The soft, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor blended with the distant sounds of the hospital. Muffled footsteps, distant conversations, and the occasional clatter of a cart in the hallway.

Pain pulsed in my arm with each breath I took, and I grimaced.

“What’s wrong?” Damon’s tone was sharp with concern. He caught sight of the blood on the sheet, and his eyes widened in alarm. “Whoa, what the hell? Your arm. What happened?”

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