Page 70 of Blood Illusions

Justice shook his head. “No, he’s not among the bodies in these first cells.”

I forced myself to scan each one, hoping Justice was right. Luckily, he wasn’t there. I drew a deep breath and frowned. “They didn’t turn the victims into mummies?” It was more of a question than a statement.

Justice approached the first cell. “Maybe they’re waiting for later.”

The heaviness in my chest grew as I stared at the litter of corpses, discarded like yesterday’s garbage. This wasn’t a prison or a lair—it was a slaughterhouse. The realization that we were walking through the aftermath of a massacre was almost too much to bear.

Justice scanned the area. “Are there any more of your dad’s symbols?”

At the end of the tunnel, the light finally revealed a larger cell, distinct from the others. It was more spacious, and within it, a figure slumped against the far wall. My heart leaped into my throat. Even from a distance, he looked familiar.

“Dad?” The word escaped my lips as a whisper, a mix of hope and dread.

Forgetting all caution, I bolted away from Justice.

“Sawyer, no!” Fear echoed in his voice.

I didn’t care. That was my dad. We’d found him. I couldn’t believe it. I dropped my flashlight and weapon on the floor. A big clank echoed at my feet. I grabbed the bars and shook them hard, but they only rattled. Damn it! They were locked.

“Dad, Dad! Can you hear me?”

I retrieved my flashlight and shone it into the cell. That was when I noticed the bodies in there with him. More like discarded mummies. They reminded me of the carcasses we’d found at Shadow Mine.

My chest tightened, and my throat turned bone-dry. “Dad,” I called in a hoarse voice.

He stirred and slowly lifted his head, revealing a face covered in dirt and cuts. But it was unmistakably him—my father. He moaned, and his head slumped to the side again.

I rattled the bars again. “Dad. It’s Sawyer.”

But he didn’t stir.

Justice came up beside me and pointed to a salt ring surrounding my dad. “I can hear his heart. He’s alive,” he reassured me, then pointed. “Look, there’s a salt ring around him.”

I shoved a shaking hand through my hair. “Open the door, Justice. Open it.”

“Stand back.” Justice pulled and tugged at the cell door until it finally crumpled under his efforts. Without hesitation, I rushed to my dad, careful not to step on the mummified bodies scattered around.

I knelt beside him and gently placed my hand on his cheek. “Dad!” My voice cracked with emotion as tears streamed down my face.

In that moment, the dead bodies surrounding us, the vampires waiting above, and the possible lurking shadow dragon ceased to exist. All that mattered was that my father was alive. Battered and weak but alive.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I held my breath, waiting for Dad to respond. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. The smell of blood and sweat filled my nostrils, and I fought back the flood of tears pushing against the back of my eyes.

Leave it to him to be the only survivor of a vampire frenzy. He was John Grant, the greatest hunter who’d ever lived. He was a hero. My hero.

I shook his shoulder gently. “Dad, can you hear me?”

Justice held the flashlight, illuminating the grisly sight before us. I grimaced as fear gripped my insides. It wasn’t only dirt on his face. Splatters of blood were across his and tangled in his beard.

His army jacket was torn and had more splashes of blood. He had a big gash on the side of his head, and blood trickled down his temple. With trembling hands, I opened his jacket and saw a large stain on his side, as if he’d been stabbed. I forced myself to lift his shirt and gasped. A deep, jagged, bloody cut marked his side and ran across his chest.

I shoved aside the hysterics that threatened to take over. I had already lost one parent to vampires, and I wouldn’t lose a second one. Remembering everything my dad had taught me, I drew on my steely reserve to remain calm. “Justice, we have to get him out of here.”

“Yeah, he’s been hurt bad.” Justice put a hand on his forehead, then his heart. His face turned grave. “He’s weak. I’m not sure he’ll survive the journey back through the catacombs, let alone the fight we’ll have to face at the top of the stairs.”

I gritted my teeth and slapped his arm. “I’m not leaving him here.”

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