Page 47 of Blood from the Marrow
Marisol clenched her teeth.I’m standing right here. The words rattled in her chest, tearing at her to be set free.
“I am glad of your visit, but sorry you have come so far for nothing,” Sabina said like she really meant it.
Her gaze swept desperately over the towering shelves surrounding her. Thousands of books. Centuries of knowledge. How could there be nothing? Her wings burned beneath her skin, responding to her rising panic.
“We should go,” Hel said quietly. “I told you this was a long shot.”
No, she wanted to scream. She couldn’t walk away like this. There had to be something here.
“You might as well come out. I can hear your pulse thundering from here,” Sabina said with a sigh.
Fear made Marisol freeze. She held her breath like that might stop the thundering in her neck.
Hel cursed, but it was more disappointment than anger. “It’s alright, luv,” she called. “Wild horses couldn’t have covered up that sound.”
A moment later, Librada appeared in the doorway. Her eyes brimming with the shame of failure as if any of this were fault. As if she’d been the one to lose track of her history.
Taking tentative steps, Marisol followed closely behind Librada. It was the first time she’d been in a room full of strange vampires without Elena and Zuri, and it felt like taking the battlefield without armor. She felt small and exposed and incredibly stupid.
Sitting in a high-back chair fit for a queen, Sabina rose when Marisol entered her study. Her eyes were pale brown but shrewd when they scanned Marisol from top to bottom. Sabina looked like she was in her mid-fifties but she moved like she carried centuries in her bones. Slow and purposeful as she drifted toward Marisol.
“Who are you?” Sabina asked, and Marisol had the irrepressible hunch that she meant to askwhat, not who.
Marisol looked at Librada for help answering the question, but Lib’s unreadable face was even more blank than usual. All Marisol had was her gut and the conviction that the truth had only ever helped her. She turned back to Sabina.
“I’m sorry,” Marisol said softly, “but you’re wrong. The Aglion are not a scary story made up by witches.”
Before anyone could speak, before they could stop her or throw her out, before she could talk herself out of it, Marisol reached for the energy tingling in her shoulder blades. Her wings effortlessly unfurled in a rush of light and power, translucent at first, then solidifying into brilliant white.
Sabina stumbled backward, hand pressed to her chest. “Blessed Lilith,” she breathed, eyes wide the way Librada’s had been the first time she’d seen her power. “The hand of our Mother.” She stared at Marisol’s wings while all the color drained from her face.
Hel gawked, mouth open. She was frozen before looking to her side at Librada. Looking like she needed someone to pinch her.
“You have to help us,” Marisol pleaded, wings curled protectively around herself. “There are others like me. Not very many and they’re barely surviving. They’ve been running for so long. Running from something they don’t understand. They’re living like animals, and I need to know what’s hunting them so I can stop it.”
Sabina moved closer, eyes fixed on Marisol’s wings with open wonder. It was then that Marisol realized she’d been lying. She wasn’t shocked Aglion were real; she was amazed that she’d gotten to see one.
“Child, you don’t understand the danger you’re in. If the wrong vampires knew what you were?—”
“I know,” Marisol interrupted, explaining that Sayah and her daughters had already seen her, though she doubted they’dknown about the Aglion. Explaining that Clara’s people were actively hunted, and that keeping them ignorant only kept them weak. “But I also know they’re going to die like this. I can’t let that happen when there might be answers.” Her voice cracked. “Please. You’re our only hope.”
For a long moment, the only sound was Marisol’s pulse thundering in her ears. Sabina watched her, eyes following the curve of her wings.
“Wilhelmina, lock the door,” Sabina commanded. “What I’m about to show you… I have kept secret with the hope that the hunt for your kind would die.” She took a deep breath like she was still debating whether she should share her knowledge.
Hel moved to the heavy wooden door, sliding multiple bolts into place with loud clicks. Relieved, Marisol withdrew her wings.
“Follow me.” Sabina headed for the spiraling stairs circling the tower several stories high. “And stay close,” she said, like a security measure might knock her off the railing-free stairs.
They climbed until Marisol’s legs burned and her lungs ached. The stairs grew narrower, more treacherous, and she had to look straight ahead to avoid looking down. When she imagined being perched at the top, she hadn’t counted on wobbly knees and the impending fear of plunging to her death. Even a vampire could land badly and sever their spinal cord, dying if they fell from so high.
Finally, Sabina stopped short of the very top. There was nothing but the wall to their right, and plunging to the ground if they took a step that direction. If they took the final handful of steps they’d reach the loft where a bell once hung.
Fangs exposed unexpectedly, Sabina bit into her own hand, filling the air with a metallic tang Marisol would happily never smell again. Marisol averted her gaze from the blood streaming down Sabina’s arm when she pressed her hand to a stone. Astone that looked the same as all the others, but seemed to drink Sabina’s blood before an unseen door groaned open.
“My true archive,” Sabina said simply, wiping the blood from the corners of her mouth. “What you seek has been hidden for three millennia. It was lost for a long time before it was entrusted first to my mentor, and now to me.”
Marisol wanted to ask what had happened to Sabina’s mentor, but she didn’t dare speak. All she could think about was getting off the lethal stairs and learning whatever secrets were guarded with blood.
