Page 9 of Crimson Devotion
This castle is mind-blowing.
Not even two hours in, and I’m already finding it hard to stop going in circles. The walls are old, and the most interesting thing I’ve noticed is that there’s no electricity. None whatsoever. There are torches and candles all around. They really kept up the old aspect of it, and it makes me wonder about their shower habits.
If there’s no electricity, it’s only safe to assume there’s no water, either. Do they shower? Do they need to shower? One of the things I’ve never paid attention to in my training is what vampires were like, so now that I’m facing some of the scariest ones, I regret the decision immensely.
I should’ve paid attention instead of dozing off.
Every single wall is made out of ashlar. Usually, old castles are made out of two masonry — rubble and ashlar. Rubble is cheaper, easier to find, and it’s often put in the parts of the castle that aren’t accessible to anyone, or very visible. Not this one, though, as it’s been made entirely out of ashlar.
But the location of the castle is odd. Why is it in Romania? I encountered Valerio in New Orleans, and if the stories are correct, the rest of them are also scattered throughout the United States. Why would their family home be in Romania?
Too many questions threaten to overwhelm me, and I take a deep breath, then take a right turn. My footsteps come to a halt, eyebrows pinching. The corridor is narrow, with small torches flickering on the walls on each side. I’ve not seen this one yet, and I don’t know why, but it’s inviting me, and I find it difficult to ignore my curiosity.
With the stake and one small vial in my hand, I start walking into the poorly lit corridor, eyes skimming my surroundings. It’s silent, and I don’t know where Ophelia’s gone to.
I’m surprised she hasn’t killed me on the spot, and that she offered me this deal. More than that, I’m surprised at my reaction. I was composed, collected, and calm. On the inside, though? I was a fucking mess.
Ophelia has to be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
Her hair is pitch black, falling down her waist. It’s pin straight, and it illuminates under the moonlight so beautifully that I had to force myself to look away. Her eyes, albeit red in color, are the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. Which is ironic, considering who and what she is. Her eyebrows are on the thinner side, perfectly suiting her high cheekbones, and her plump lips.
She was wearing nothing but a sheer nightgown with a matching robe, and it was difficult not to fucking ogle her. For a moment, I felt like a maniac — but her tits were right there. Staring at me.
Ophelia’s not too tall, but still a bit taller than me. It makes her intimidating, and despite the kind shape of her eyes, I know she’s not the one I want to cross — ever. Something about the wayshe was composed doesn’t sit right with me. And the fact that she decided to play a game with me is not something I expected.
My train of thought breaks when I find myself in front of a double wooden door. It’s old, with a lot of cobwebs all over the top part of the door, and some dust on the knob. When my hand reaches for the knob, to my surprise, it’s not locked.
I push the door open, the squeaky noise filling my ears. A round of coughing comes from me when I step in, a clear tell that no one’s been inside for a very long time. I take my backpack off, then pull out the flashlight, turning it on.
A frown etches on my face, and the more I walk into the room, the more confused I get.
It’s a library.
Unlike the narrow hallway, the library is massive. Easily one of the biggest I’ve seen, and back at the agency, we do have a rather huge one. It doesn’t come close to the one I’m currently in, though.
I skim through the titles, and I’m amazed at the selection. From wars all over the world, dating back hundreds of years, to the some of first erotic novels known to humans. There’s a lot of books on the supernatural, and many spellbooks, too. My fingers pause at a specific book, and I pull it out.
It’s a fantasy novel from the early 1800s. My eyebrows lift to my hairline as I read over the description on the back, then shove it in my backpack, saving it for later. The library hasn’t been updated in ages, but it’s alright. Given the number of books on witches, vampires, and all the supernatural creatures that are now roaming freely in our world, I don’t need much more.
“The existence of vampires.’’ I read the title out loud, before pulling the book off the shelf. I take a seat on the dusty couch, with another coughing fit. My flashlight points directly at the book, my fingers grazing over the cover.
It’s thick and in a dark shade of brown. The title’s written in a font I’ve never seen before, and it’s likely a really old one that’sno longer being used as frequently. It’s written in gold, with a couple of gold details scattered all around the cover.
There’s no author name, nor a description on the back. My brow furrows further, a look of confusion on my face. I flip through the first couple of pages, and they’re empty. Some parts have gotten yellow, indicating it’s way older than I originally thought it would be.
But the more I flip the pages, the more confused I get. There’s not a single word written in this book. Not a single sentence, not even a dot. The pages are completely blank, from beginning to end.
It’s rather strange.
Quickly, I get off the couch and start opening random books, just to see if the rest are actual books. And they are. The novels I take a peek at, the spellbooks that I quite honestly don’t comprehend, or the historical textbooks — but the fact remains. Unless there’re another few like the book I chose, it’s the only one that’s completely void of any words.
“Snooping around, are we?”
I jolt, spinning around to look at the door. There she is again, leaning against the doorframe, still wearing the same nightgown and the robe. Her expression is stoic, though something akin to amusement flashes behind those red eyes.
“Just doing research.’’
“On what, exactly?” she asks, pushing herself off thedoorframe and stepping farther into the room. “How to kill me?”
