Page 117 of Fated In Ruin
Eldric scrolled through his phone, frowning at whatever he was reading. “Give me a fucking minute, you impatient bastard.”
Then he held up a hand. “I got something. The seat of House Vespertine is Château des Ombres, a formidable stone fortress nestled within the mist-shrouded peaks of the Vosges Mountains in northeastern France…blah blah blah…”
Eldric scrolled faster.
“Here we go… records indicate Lord de Noc selected this location not for its strategic military advantage, but rather for the extensive network of natural caves and passageways. These labyrinthine tunnels have been the subject of local legend, with locals describing inexplicable sounds, sudden temperature fluctuations, and the occasional power surge from the castle’s location, even after the castle fell into disrepair.”
“I’d say we have a winner.” My murmur was lost in the horror spiraling through me as I peered down at the picture on the screen, of a tumbled ruin half hidden in a tangle of pine trees and ivy. “The location meets all the criteria, but it’ll be a bitch to get to.”
Eldric set his phone down. “And don’t forget. Ravok can see the future, and he might not have the manpower, but he’ll have countermeasures in place, so no matter how solid your plans are, or how well thought out your strategy, there will be no surprising him.”
“So…where does that leave us?” Riordan asked softly.
“Two steps behind.” I stared at the fire.
Because Ravok wasalwaysone step ahead of everyone.
We were fools to believe we had any chance of surprising him. No, he’d expect whatever strategy we came up with, which meant he already knew we’d combine our magic.
Whatever Ravok’s expectations, we had to shift the advantage to our side and I had no earthly idea how.
51
EVANGELINE
All I smelled were those goddamned roses as I dressed in warm, thick black leggings, a long-sleeved shirt, a vest far too heavy for the sultry summer New York air outside.
Thigh sheaths stuffed full of knives, and boots with thick, rubber treads, perfect for slick, wet rocky surfaces.
It took some doing, but I finally had a fix on Malachi, and he was a fool for leaving me behind. He should have known there was nowhere on this earth he could hide, nowhere far enough he could run where I wouldn’t hunt him down.
As for the note…fuck him.
If I was going to live well and be happy, then he was goddamned going to be happy and well with me, even if I had to drag him back here by the scruff of his noble, conniving neck.
Our blood bond pulsed beneath my skin, fresh from his recent feeding, a compass needle pointing east. I had followed that crimson thread across the ocean, until finally, I found him.
One more glance at my phone app indicated where Malachi had stopped moving, and lo and behold—thank you, Google Maps—there was only one place in his vicinity that met all of Ravok’s criteria—dark, private, easily protected.
Hidden deep in the French Alps north of Monaco, half hidden by a dense pine forest and craggy ridges, the forgotten Château des Ombres Éternelles rotted into moss covered ruins.
The article claimed the castle dated back to the late 11th century, but it looked older, perched precariously on a steep granite outcropping, its crumbling outer walls collapsing into the natural contours of the mountain, until you couldn’t tell where the castle ended and nature began.
The place had been beautiful once, soaring towers and strong battlements, but the fallen archways etched a jagged silhouette against the misty mountain backdrop in the pictures. Wild ivy had reclaimed much of the stonework, and gnarled roots forced apart enormous square cut stones, the foundations of the once-imposing castle.
But none of that interested me.
What was more fascinating were the rumors that the tunnels were haunted.
That some unknown power pulsed beneath the mountain, like the heartbeat of a god.
The heartbeat of a god.I rechecked my weapons.
That couldn’t be a coincidence,it couldn’t.
We couldn’t track Ravok, but I could track Malachi just fine, and when I found him, I was going to kick his ass. I jammed another knife into my boot and tugged my pant leg down over the hilt.
Picking up my phone, I zoomed in, evaluating the terrain, the challenges we’d face once we got there. Mountainous, treacherous, so hopefully we could land close to the castle itself, maybe on that flat, rocky outcropping to the west of the ruins.
