The sound made Valek’s flesh crawl. Why did doing what he was about to do feel a lot like suicide?
The other guard reeled his hand back, and then slung a giant fireball toward Valek’s head. But he successfully dodged it, running under the fire, his fangs bared and claws out. He squinted through the light and aimed for his combatant’s body.
He collided into the Elf; knocked him into the bars of steel with such force they broke in half and collapsed into the water piping that ran above them. Water rained down, soaking Valek and extinguishing the Elven fire.
Angry, the guard propelled his fist toward the side of Valek’s head, though he dodged it, before it could catch the edge of his jaw.
Valek recovered quickly, jamming one claw into the guard’s face. With a gruesome snap, the officer dropped to the floor.
Another roar ripped out of the back of Valek’s throat. His dark eyes fixated on the other then, as the Elf lunged for him, more fire exploding from both hands. But Valek only went through the attack, grabbing the Elf’s forearms, and turned the fire to the guard’s own face.
The officer withdrew, screaming as he tried to extinguish the flames, which were now melting the flesh from his skull. Valek pressed the burning man against the bricks and leaned into his ear, careful the flames did not catch Charlotte or him.
“Tell the Regime, we
He was off, darting through the dark corridors like a spirit who had successfully escaped through the gates of the underworld. He moved so fast, the guards he passed would not have seen him if they blinked. He plummeted down between flights of stairs, dashed through the building as tapestries, lights, grand hallways, and doors whizzed past. Charlotte held tight to him. He could hear her waning in and out of consciousness.
Valek ran until he came to a pair of immense double doors at the end of a grand foyer. Bolted shut. He looked above to see a gargantuan, garnet chandelier dangling from four ornate buttresses in the center of the ceiling. One buttress was carved in the shape of a sea serpent, to the left, a dragon. Across the way, a gryphon, and finally, a Fairy. There were dead ends to Valek’s left and right, marked literally by the large, scathing torches and guards proceeding around him. He searched desperately for a different exit to the capital city, but was sure these doors were the only way out.
“Stop!” A gaggle of officers shouted after them as they clumsily stomped down the resonating floors of the large foyer.
Valek only quickly glanced back before running for the doors. He would break his way through.
One of the pursuing guards sent a ball of flames from the palm of his hand. It spun past Valek, into the doors before him and ignited the wood. The only escape was completely engulfed now, and Valek was trapped.
His breath was stagnant in his chest, mostly for fear. Exhaustion was never an issue. If that were not the way to escape, they would not have blockaded it that way. He was sure of that. But if he pushed through it, both of them would most certainly disintegrate. The fire in front of him burned more violently. It seemed like the only choice.
The guards advanced closer and closer, his chance of escape becoming slimmer and slimmer, until one more pair of footsteps clamored stealthily down the corridor to Valek’s right. He turned to see Aiden running toward him, his face glistening with beads of sweat off the firelight. A new lump formed in Valek’s throat. For a moment, he was sure this would be the end, but then he tuned in to Aiden’s mind, though Elves were more difficult to tap into than human beings.
The Elf watched Valek with fevered eyes, seeming to be devising some sort of plan. For a moment, Valek knew Aiden thought about destroying him. He saw Aiden’s idea about sending a new ball of flames hurtling right for his face. He knew the young Elf felt the same way about Vampires as his father and the rest of the Regime did, but there was a different sort of energy building inside him now.
Aiden saw Charlotte slung across Valek’s shoulder and stopped short. He wouldn’t destroy Valek now, not with Charlotte’s life at risk. A surge of energy burst through Aiden’s arms, pulsating to his wrists. The Elf relinquished a cry and bent the air around him as he lifted his hands to where the fire roared behind Charlotte’s unresponsive body. He would do this now, but he would be sure to hunt Valek later.
A strong air current bolted from his fists, sending a wild wind rushing toward the fire. But that only made the flames billow higher to the ceiling. A wooden beam from above collapsed, almost crushing Valek where he stood.
Another wave of energy rushed through Aiden, one that felt more frightened, because what he had just done had almost killed Charlotte.
Valek grabbed more tightly to his Lottie. The heat started to singe the cracks in his face. The smell of the burning wood and the crackling sound reflected down the marble halls. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion then. Sweat trickled from Aiden’s forehead. He lifted his hands again to the raging fire as a thick stream of water burst forth this time, successfully extinguishing the flames.
The group of palace guards stopped, gaping at Aiden as Valek wasted no time and rushed through the disintegrated doors, out into the dark streets of Prague.
Valek closed his eyes as he ran, not looking back. He could only feel the heat from what was left of the burning doors fade behind him. Thanks to Aiden, Charlotte would be safe, for now. But Valek knew, the moment the sun climbed back to its place in the morning sky, Aiden’s hunt for Charlotte would begin again.
Chapter Twelve
Valek careened through the night with such accuracy that the only thing the mortals noticed on the street was a slight breeze ruffling their clothes as he sped past.
Streetlights flickered on the shiny pavement as thunder rolled above them. He reveled in the coolness and clarity of the air as he ran, but was still painfully aware his clock was ticking. He adjusted Charlotte draped motionlessly over his shoulder, his concern growing with each step he took. He knew exactly where he would go. It was their only chance of survival, and he was sure there was no other choice. The Occult would surely be on some sort of a lockdown, guards on high alert for the fugitive that impossibly managed to escape the inescapable. He just prayed the spired house with the indigo rooftops and the lavender walls still stood where he remembered it. Francis had a habit of moving every decade or so, Valek recalled.
“Valek…” Charlotte moaned.
“I know, Lottie. You’re safe.” His crystalline eyes shifted through the night like a jungle cat’s, scanning the street for the white porch steps he used to know so well.
Finally, he found what he was looking for at the end of the long, narrow street in Lesser Town near the banks of the glimmering Vltava. The familiar home loomed over him. Being in the city instantly resurfaced several hundred memories. Valek couldn’t suppress the emerging smile when he thought back to the night he found Charlotte, tucked in those pathetic rags. Those wondrous, curious eyes. She hadn’t changed. Even though she was capable of aging, she would never change.
Valek flew up the polished steps, burst through the front door, and stopped dead in the foyer. The place was dark and forsaken with pealing, lavender wallpaper. A mirror to his right had been smashed, the shiny remnants on the floor. A collapsed, wooden beam blockaded the entryway to the kitchen. Desperation overcame him. He sucked in air through his nose, trying to sense if there were anyone left here. To his solace, the scent he was looking for was very much present.
“Francis!” Valek called out, exhausted and pained.
He swiftly reached over his shoulder, pulled Charlotte in front of him, and carried her in his arms. He saw her eyes closed again, her breathing shallow. Her heart rate was very, very, dangerously slow.
He sucked in air again. “Francis!”
As he called out the name a second time, a Vampire, decadently dressed in white ruffles and tight, black,
