Page 57 of A Touch of Darkness

“Lucian… are you sure?—”

“I wouldn’t come to you if I wasn’t sure.” His tone is steady but firm, leaving no room for argument.

I slide into the passenger seat, my pulse thrumming in time with the engine as he starts the car and pulls onto the dark road.

The silence between us stretches thin as the campus fades behind us. I glance at him, his profile illuminated in the faint glow of the dashboard lights.

“Where are we going?” I ask finally.

“There’s a building, off-campus. Old, secluded. It’s where they’ve been hiding her.”

An unease curls in my stomach. “Off-campus? Maybe we should call the police. Or?—”

“There’s no time, Sylvie,” he cuts me off, his voice tight, sharper than I’ve ever heard it before. “If we wait, they’ll move her. We’re cloaking ourselves—no one else can know. The more people involved, the more risk there is—for your sister. And for you.”

The explanation makes sense, but something about the way he says it feels… wrong. I brush the thought aside, guilt tugging at me. This is Lucian. I’m growing to trust him. He wouldn’t lie to me. He wants to help me.

We drive in silence for what feels like an eternity before the car pulls off the main road onto a narrow, tree-lined path. My unease grows as the dark outline of a building comes into view, its stone facade looming like a shadow against the night sky.

I squint at it, something about the structure tugging at my memory. “This looks familiar…”

“It should,” Lucian says, pulling the car to a stop. “You’ve been here before.”

My stomach drops. “Their administration building?”

He shakes his head. “Not exactly. This is another part of the same complex. It’s… connected.”

“Connected how?”

“Hidden entrances, underground passages—things the average person wouldn’t notice. It’s how they’ve kept her hidden.” He turns to me, his expression grave. “We need to move quickly. The longer we wait, the more danger Lara’s in. We need to get in, get her, and get out.”

My feet feel like lead as I follow him out of the car. He leads me around the side of the building to a narrow, ivy-covered door I’ve never seen before.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Positive,” he says without hesitation.

He pulls the door open, revealing a set of stone stairs spiraling down into darkness. My heart pounds as I hesitate at the threshold.

“Lucian…”

He steps closer, his voice low and almost pleading. “Sylvie, trust me. We’ll save her. But you have to trust me.” He closes his eyes and puts his hand on my shoulder, repeating something over and over again in another language. “We’re protected, cloaked. No one can see us.” He pauses. “Now, let’s go get Lara.”

Lara’s name pushes me forward, and I descend the stairs after him. The air grows colder with each step, the scent of damp stone and mildew in my nose.

The door creaks on its ancient hinges as Lucian pushes it open, revealing a narrow stone staircase spiraling down into darkness. The air shifts immediately—cooler, damp, and heavy with the scent of old earth and mildew. A shiver runs down my spine, but I step forward anyway, Lara’s name propelling me when my own fear threatens to root me in place.

Lucian doesn’t speak, his boots tapping against the stone steps in a steady rhythm. The faint flicker of his shadow stretches across the walls, distorted by the weak light from a single lantern he’s carrying. I trail after him, hugging my arms to myself as the oppressive weight of the descending staircase presses in on me.

“Why would they keep her down here?” I ask, my voice small in the suffocating silence.

“Because no one would think to look,” he says without turning, his tone clipped. “This isn’t just a building, Sylvie. It’s a fortress, hidden in plain sight. They’ve used it for years. Since their formation.”

The words twist uneasily in my chest, but I force myself to keep moving. The farther we descend, the more the walls seemto close in. The carvings that line them—delicate and winding—pulse faintly with a soft blue glow.

I pause to study one, the intricate etchings too precise to be random. “What are these?”

Lucian hesitates for the first time, his shoulders stiffening as he glances back at me. “Old magic,” he says finally. “Wards, mostly. Meant to keep people out—or in.”

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