Page 51 of Vampire Bite

I motioned for Annika to stop, then pointed toward a narrow gap in the wall’s foundation. It was barely noticeable, likely an old drainage passage long forgotten. She followed my gaze and gave a small nod of understanding.

We crouched low and crept toward the opening, the damp earth soaking through my gloves as I pushed aside some overgrown vines. Annika slipped in first. I followed close behind, the confined space pressing in on all sides. It made it difficult to breathe, but I steadied my breath.

Inside, the air was thick and musty, the scent of mildew clinging to every surface. The tunnel was just wide enough for us to crawl through, the sound of our breathing echoing faintly off the stone walls. I reached out instinctively, my hand brushing against Annika’s ankle. She paused for a second before continuing.

When we emerged, it was into the shadows of an interior corridor. The space was dimly lit by flickering torches mounted along the walls, casting long, uneven shadows. I straightened, listening carefully for any signs of movement. The stronghold was eerily quiet. There was no sound of the usual chaos. The silence made my skin crawl.

Annika pulled her hood tighter around her face, her expression set in determined lines. “Which way?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I glanced down the corridor, then gestured left. “They told us that Damien’s chambers should be that way. The cells won’t be far from there.”

She hesitated, her eyes searching mine. “Do you think he’ll be there?”

“He will be,” I said firmly, though doubt tugged at the edges of my mind.

Damien wasn’t a fool. He’d know we were coming sooner or later. Still, we had to take the chance.

We moved quickly but carefully, sticking to the shadows as we navigated the maze-like corridors. The stronghold was a fortress in every sense of the word. It was designed to confuse intruders and protect its secrets. But I’d been here before, long ago, when the alliances were different, and my family’s influence still held sway. I knew the layout, even if time and war had changed some of its features.

As we turned a corner, the faint sound of chains rattling reached my ears. I stopped, holding up a hand to signal Annika. She froze beside me, her breath catching as she heard it too.

“The cells,” she whispered.

I nodded, my grip tightening on the hilt of my blade. This was it. If Damien was holding prisoners, this would be where we’d find them.

The faint clinking of chains grew louder as we approached the cells. My muscles coiled tight, every nerve on edge. The corridor narrowed, the walls pressing in closer, and the air carried the acrid tang of fear and suffering.

I glanced over at Annika. Her eyes were ablaze with determination. I’d seen that look before, during our countless near-death escapes. But here, in the darkened halls of a place designed to break the strongest spirits, her courage seemed to burn even brighter.

I held up a hand to halt her, motioning toward the corner ahead. The sound of boots echoed faintly from somewhere beyond. A patrol. I pressed my back to the wall, pulling her close beside me. Her shoulder brushed against mine, and I could feel her breath, quick but steady.

The shifter guard came into view, his hulking figure barely fitting in the cramped space. His steps were heavy, but his posture was relaxed. He was too confident. He didn’t expect us. And that would be his mistake.

I caught Annika’s eye and tilted my head toward him. She gave a small nod, as her fingers tightened on the dagger she carried. Silent as a shadow, I moved forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat. My blade found his throat before he could make a sound. His body crumpled to the floor, and I dragged him into the shadows before signaling Annika to follow.

“Cells should be just ahead,” I whispered. My voice sounded rougher than I intended, my nerves humming with the tension of the moment.

We rounded the corner to find a long row of iron bars stretching down both sides of the corridor. The prisoners inside were vampires, humans, and even a few shifters who had dared to defy the orders they were given. All of them looked up with hollow eyes as we approached. Some were too weak to stand, with their bodies slumped against the grimy walls.

Annika inhaled sharply beside me, her hand flying to her mouth. “Lucas…” she whispered.

I stepped forward, scanning the cells quickly. “Damien’s not here,” I muttered, feeling the frustration flaring hot in my chest. “But these people—"

“They need to get out,” she interrupted.

I nodded, already working the lock on the nearest cell. I used my knife to snap the rusted metal. The prisoners inside shrank back at first, their fear palpable, but when they realized we weren’t guards, their expressions shifted to cautious hope.

Annika moved to another cell. I watched her hands fumbling with the lock. She glanced at me, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“We can’t leave them here,” she said.

“We won’t,” I promised.

The sound of more footsteps echoed down the corridor. They were heavy and purposeful. My head snapped up, and my body tensed. Reinforcements. Of course, they’d come eventually.

“Get them moving,” I told her, shoving the cell door open. “I’ll handle this.”

“No,” she said, stepping in front of me. Her defiance was maddening and admirable all at once. “You don’t do this alone.”

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