Page 43 of A Touch of Darkness
And then there’s Lucian. My parents. Our lineage. Seraphina. The curse.
The way I feel almost…indebted to her in some peculiar way.
The way Lucian makes me feel…something I can’t describe.
Something I can’t even think about right now in fear that I’ll totally lose myself.
Nicole exhales slowly, watching me closely. “You need to be careful, Sylvie. There’s something about the Society. They’re not just after Lara. I truly believe they’re after you. Lucian said it best. You’re the key. The key to ending all of us.”
The words hit like a revelation. They’ve been after me from the start, haven’t they? Ever since I got here, ever since I was born into this messed-up bloodline, they’ve been waiting for the right moment to pull me into their grasp.
“I know,” I say, my voice a little steadier now. “I’m not stupid. They’re waiting for something. For me. And I don’t know what it is they’re expecting me to do for them, or how, but I’m going to find out.”
Nicole raises an eyebrow. “So what do you plan to do about it? Just wait around for their next move?” She shrugs. “I’m sure it won’t be too long before Isabel’s crazy ass pops back up.”
Something Nicole says triggers an idea. I smirk, meeting her gaze without hesitation. “No. I’m not waiting. I’m going to make a move first.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrow thoughtfully, like it’s a great idea. “You’re right. I think it’s time for you to go to them. They are dangerous, but there are also things we can do to protect you while you talk to them. While you find out just how much they are involved.”
I nod, knowing it’s what I have to do. Letting them come to me isn’t helping anything.
“You need to seek them out this time,” Rebecca continues. “Maybe you could act like you’re going to work with them. Or, like, you want to see what they are all about. Pretend you want to hear about joining, that Isabel has sunk her claws into you. But really, you’ll be gathering intel. Finding out what they’re planning. What they want from you. What they’ve been doing all this time and how you’re a part of it. And if they have Lara, maybe you’ll be closer to knowing the truth.”
My heart beats a little faster. This is it. This is the only way I’m going to get the answers I need. The only way I can protect myself—and maybe even stop the Society before they get what they want. “I’ll do it,” I say without hesitation. “I’ll get close. I’ll find out everything. Not even for me or their greatest purpose. To find out where they have Lara and get her back.”
Nicole grins, her eyes sparkling with approval. “That’s my girl. Just remember—don’t let them see who you really are. You have to stay on your toes, Sylv. These are dangerous people, and you can’t afford to slip up. Not even a little.” She looks to Rebecca, then back to me. “We can help with that. There’s no way we can let you go in without strong protection. Luckily, we’re pretty good with protection spells.”
For the first time in days, I feel something that resembles certainty. I may not have all the answers yet, but I know whatI need to do. And this time, I won’t be alone. I have Nicole and Rebecca. And I’ll need their help to pull this off.
I lean back in my chair, a newfound resolve settling in my bones.
The three of us sit there for a while, the conversation shifting into quieter murmurs, plans already starting to form. But in my chest, a fire has been lit…and I can’t wait to make them pay for what they’ve done.
The entrance to the Crimson Veil is easy to miss, tucked between a whimsical apothecary and a crumbling bookstore, nestled along a narrow street. To anyone passing by, it’s nothing more than a relic of the past. But I know better. The unassuming facade is the first layer of protection, a test to weed out the unworthy and the unwelcome.
The moment I step inside, the ancient wards press against my senses, subtle but unyielding. Only vampires, their allies, and those with no ill intent can pass beyond this point. Hunters and slayers don’t make it far—they’d find themselves inexplicably frozen, their bodies refusing to move forward, or forced to flee with sudden nausea.
I glance at the antique mirror hanging on the wall by the staircase, the silver frame inscribed with runes faintly glowing in the dim light. A flicker of amusement crosses my mind. The enchantment doesn’t just repel enemies; it senses intent.Anyone harboring a grudge or plotting harm to those below is stopped in their tracks.
As I descend the narrow staircase, the wards shift, brushing over me like unseen hands, verifying my presence as if I could be anyone but who I am. The spellwork is impressive, layered with intent, designed to adapt and grow stronger with time.
The air grows cooler the deeper I go, the faint strains of 1920s jazz music filtering up through the cracks. When I reach the bottom, the iron door creaks open, and the sight of Crimson Veil greets me like a lover’s whisper.
The room is a masterpiece of dark elegance. Velvet drapes the color of deep garnet hang from the ceilings, framing a space bathed in soft, flickering light. Tables are scattered across the obsidian floor, their surfaces polished to a mirror-like sheen. Lanterns shaped like wrought-iron cages hang low, casting intricate shadows that dance along the walls.
The room hums with quiet, serene energy. Crimson Veil has long been a haunt for the supernatural. Unlike Midnight Delight, the feeding club, Crimson Veil is more of a bar setting. There isn’t full-on feeding happening here, not directly from humans, although vampires can purchase blood packs or a range of other specialty drinks. Vampires, ally witches, and the humans who support them mingle in careful harmony, the kind born not of trust but of necessity. There’s an unspoken rule here: what happens in these walls stays here. Disputes, vendettas, and grudges are left at the door—or they’ll be dealt with swiftly.
I find Dorian at the far side of the room, leaning against the bar with a glass of blood-red wine in hand. His eyes flicker to me as I approach, a small but knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Lucian,” he greets with an almost sarcastic familiarity. “Here to stir up trouble again, old friend?”
“I’m here to gather information from an old source of ours, not cause a scene,” I reply, my voice flat.
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, but his eyes narrow slightly, picking up on my tension. “Let’s see how long that lasts.” He smirks. “I saw Henry Quinn over there. Assumed he may be here for you.”
We move to a quieter corner, far from the swirling conversations and clinking glasses. I want to speak to Henry—he was once a member of the Solstice Society, but he’s since changed his ways and is now acting as more of an informant for us—but there’s something I need to tell Dorian first. He may act like he’s above it all, but his mind is sharper than anyone else’s in this damned city.
“I’ve been thinking about Sylvie,” I say, my voice low.
Dorian raises an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not surprised. What is it about this girl that has you so wound up? I thought you’d have moved past this by now. You aren’t usually so stuck on your conquests.”
