Page 60 of The Pureblood Princess
And I you,iubit. We’re going to get you home.
She nods to herself, then wipes the tears from her cheeks and strengthens her resolve.
The scent of Honora’s blood fills the room, and it won’t be long before other vampires in the manor notice the smell. She has to get out of here before they come looking for her.
Kneeling, Nadia grasps Honora’s bloody cloak and reaches into the pockets, searching for something to protect herself with should she need it. Her fingers brush against cool metal, and then she wraps her hand around the hilt and pulls the dagger from Honora’s pocket.
The dagger is made of silver, of course, and a scowl pulls at Nadia’s lips as she looks down at Honora’s dull eyes. She can only guess what she intended to do with the dagger; thankfully, she’ll never find out.
Her gaze shifts to Honora’s boots, and she quickly steals them from her feet and slips them on. She’ll need sturdy footwear if she’s to escape on foot.
After pulling the laces tight and grabbing the dagger from the floor, she stands and faces the door. Closing her eyes, she focuses and listens intently.
She can’t hear anyone in the hall, but a distance away, somewhere in the manor, multiple sets of footsteps tread softly. Her improved hearing startles her, and she realizes just how much power Honora’s blood gave her. She’s never drained so much blood from Theodore at once; perhaps the copious amount she drank is responsible for her heightened senses.
“I suppose I should thank you,” Nadia whispers to Honora’s body. Again, she waits for remorse to trickle in, but it doesn’t.
Honora got what she deserved.
What they all deserve.
The thought pushes Nadia toward the door, and she pulls it open with conviction.
As expected, the hall is lit with torchlight. The stolen boots she wears click softly on the stone as she traverses the basement. The doors leading off the hall are all padlocked, so she leaves them be, heading directly for the door she knows will lead to her freedom.
Moving lightly on her feet, she ascends the stairwell at the end of the hall, then pauses at the door to listen. The footsteps she heard earlier are louder now, but not nearby.
With a steadying breath, she pushes through the door and glances quickly about before stepping into the moonlit vestibule. A soft sound tickles her ears, and as she focuses harder, she realizes it’s snow falling gently upon the manor’s roof. The realization makes her smile. She loves the snow, and she may yet see it again, may feel freedom once more. If only she can escape this place.
Tearing her attention away, she looks up the stairwell that continues to the third floor, then moves to the closed door. This door will lead to the hallway, and from there she’ll take one moredoor to the main foyer. She retraces her steps, picturing herself moving quietly across the second-story landing, descending the stairs into the entryway, and slipping out the door into the night.
I can do this.
Her hand flexes about the dagger, and she takes another deep breath.
Perhaps with renewed strength flowing through her veins, she will be able to control her shadow form long enough to escape the manor.
Closing her eyes, she pictures the shadows engulfing her, and the transition is almost instant. Before, it was a slow shift, a gradual metamorphosis from physicality to intangible darkness. This time, it’s so sudden Nadia almost loses hold on the power.
The dagger doesn’t clatter to the floor, so it seems, like her clothing, she can transition inorganic materials into shadow as well. A light thrill sings through her consciousness; this ability will be endlessly useful.
Nadia focuses on the space below the door, and then she’s there, slithering easily beneath the wood. Now she’s in the hallway that leads to the parlor, and the memory makes anger pulse through her. Her shadows stretch suddenly, growing and expanding until they nearly reach the width of the hallway.
She wants to make Konrád pay for what he’s done, but now is not the time. She must escape this place.
It’s even easier to slip beneath the next door, and then she’s on the balcony, and the entryway is below her. Without a body, she has no need for stairs. Instead, her shadow moves across the floor, slips through the rungs of the banister, and eases to the tiled floor below. Then she’s at the door, ready to escape.
But this doorway is sealed tight; there are no cracks through which to squeeze, and she’s unable to slip beneath the door.
She’ll have to escape in the flesh.
Without another moment of hesitation, Nadia transitions back into her physical body, gasping softly as feeling returns to her extremities. The dagger is still clutched in her hand, and she flexes her hand about it.
“Going so soon?”
The voice echoes through the foyer, sending a shiver down Nadia’s spine. She reaches for the door handle, tries to open it, but it’s locked.
Of course it’s locked.
