Page 81 of Barely Breathing

I didn’t want to leave him, but when I got Astrid’s text telling me I needed to come home, I had to. I used to think that, as a vampire, Costin had one weakness—the sun. I now know he has at least two more. Elizabeth and I are the others. I worry about him in this battle to come. I can’t ask him to harm his sister, but she’s a rabid animal that needs to be put down.

Dawn creeps over the city, and my mind keeps drifting back to Costin’s bedroom, where I left him in that half-dead state that vampires experience. Astrid and I had interrupted his sleep theday before, and he stayed awake through the following night. The blood I gave him during our lovemaking, combined with the new sunrise, had finally pulled him under. Part of me aches to still be there, safe in that moment, hiding in his underground sanctuary. But Paul and Diana don’t have the luxury of time.

The penthouse feels empty when I slip inside. There is a melancholy that comes over every movement. I wash up and grab clothes from my room, trying not to think about how this might be the last time I see it, the last time I brush my hair, wash my face, and look in the mirror.

When I emerge dressed, Astrid is waiting for me. She stands outside my door, leaning against the hallway wall. Her expression is carefully neutral, but I see worry in the set of her shoulders. She nods for me to follow, and we walk, not speaking, toward the living room.

“You’re sure about this?” Peter asks before I actually see him sitting in a chair.

He’s slouched over like a kid trying to hide from monsters, knees drawn into his chest. I expect Astrid to lecture him about putting shoes on her furniture, but they share a look instead. It’s clearly an unlikely alliance born of desperation.

“Tell her what we discussed,” Astrid says.

Peter releases his legs and places his feet on the floor. He angles his body toward uswithout standing. “I can show you the tunnels that will take you close to where they’re holding Paul, but Diana...”

He glances at Astrid.

“Go on,” Astrid says. “We have a deal. You are protected.”

“They’re keeping the girl somewhere else,” Peter continues. “The death magic shouldn’t mix with forgotten magic until the ritual. They want to keep it separate so that they’re stronger.”

The amulet pulses steadily against my chest, like a second heartbeat, counting down the hours until moonrise. Draakmar’s presence feels different after last night—less agitated and more focused. It is as if the dragon knows what I’m about to do and approves of me taking action.

“I couldn’t find where they are holding her,” Peter says. “I’m sorry, Tamara. I tried.”

I nod. I’m disappointed, but at least it’s something.

“If you want to go, it should be during the day. We’re stronger during the full moon,” he says.

“Then we should leave now,” I answer.

He stands, and we follow Peter to the elevator. Astrid waves her hand over the button panel, and it swings open. I’ve never seen it do that before. She reaches inside and flips a seemingly random sequence of switches. The elevator begins to move, and she waves her hand to close the panel.

At my stare, she says, “Private entrance to the supernatural city. You never know when you’re going to need to disappear.”

We ride the elevator down, past the lobby, into a sub-sub-basement I never knew existed. When the doors open, it looks like we’re stepping into an old maintenance tunnel.

Astrid’s heels click behind us as we descend a concrete walkway. The sound echoes off stone walls, making me think of prison corridors.

“The pack doesn’t know I’m helping you,” Peter explains as he leads us past a series of iron doors. I can’t see inside, but my idea of a prison might not be far off. “If they find out...”

His hands shake slightly as he pulls out an ancient-looking key. It has a werewolf head on the head. He turns it in his hands.

“They won’t.” Astrid’s words carry absolute certainty. She touches Peter’s shoulder, and I see him relax slightly. Sometimes, I forget how long she’s known him, how she’s watched him grow up alongside Anthony. “Not from us.”

“What are all these doors?” I ask, glancing back.

“Holding cells,” Astrid answers. “Don’t worry, they’re empty. Mostly. You don’t need to worry about them.”

“But we have a tunnel to the wolves?” The idea does not bring me comfort.

“We have a magical portal that will open to various locations depending on the key used. Peter has the wolf key.” Astrid motions Peter to go on. She reaches along a ledge next to the ceiling and pulls out a flashlight to give to me.

Peter slides his key into what looks like an electrical panel, but when he turns it, the whole wall shifts. The grinding of concrete rubbing against concrete makes me wince. Dust fills the air. Behind the false wall, darkness opens wide like a hungry mouth ready to swallow us whole. No part of me wants to go in there.

“The marks will guide you,” Peter explains, pointing to symbols that glow faintly along the walls. “Follow the wolf tracks to find Paul. But be careful—some of these tunnels are older than the city. There are things down here that even werewolves avoid. You don’t want to get lost.”

I click on my flashlight. The beam catches dust carried by currents of stale air. The passage ahead feels ominous, heavy with threats of ancient magic.

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