Oliver closed his eyes, inhaled through his nostrils, exhaled through his lips. He heard Waldo murmuring words he did not understand. Felt warmth in the third finger of his left hand, where he wore his ring.
“Believe in your love with Clare. And focus on the Hale ring,” Waldo said softly.
As Oliver’s ragged breaths calmed, the ring on his finger started to vibrate, and soon the energy was spreading through his whole body. It felt like he was levitating, almost as though he was flying… and yet not.
“Focus on the ring, Oliver. Recite the Hale mantra. You will activate more than just your own inner reserves. You will also activate the power of your clan,” Waldo urged.
Oliver opened his eyes and stared down at his hand in wonderment, his senses suddenly calm and clear. The ring was shining like it had been polished a thousand times, the Hale crest glowing as if lit from within. “What is happening?”
“The ring could only be activated when the magick aligned. It has held the love of your family, your father, mother and sister, ready to be ignited when the time was nigh. When you loved and were loved in return. That time is now.”
Waldo brought a hand to Oliver’s shoulders and touched it to one, then the other, and finally to his chest right above his heart. It felt like a bolt of lightning was traveling through him.
“Now go. Save her. Save all of us, Oliver,” Waldo commanded. “It all rests with you and Clare.”
CHAPTER 32
Clare stared in horror as drooling fangs descended from the beast’s wart-covered mouth. Almost immediately, another set appeared in front of them. What kind of fucked-up creature had a double set of fangs?
She managed to conceal a whimper, knowing that her disgust and fear would give the hideous creature power over her. She willed herself not to cower as its scarred face came closer, the stench of its breath making her want to throw up.
“Welcome, my little necromancer.”
“I will never be your anything,” she spat. “Who are you?”
“I am Igor Doskominov, King of the Grimaalds.” The beast showed its ugly fangs again in a sickening grin. Its eyes shone a vile yellow, the stench of its breath became even more foul.
“You are tethered here to my kingdom by your blood. And you will work, you little bitch. Every day for eternity, rejuvenating the humans to feed my nobles, my serfs. While I and my accomplice here work to overthrow humans and monsters alike.”
“Yep, we’re partners.” Matteus puffed up his chest and stood shoulder to shoulder with the beast, grinning. The beast shoved him away. “A lesser partner,” it grunted.
Matteus bowed his head. “Always in the shadow of your greatness, your highness.”
“You fucking better believe it,” the beast huffed.
Gods, Clare realized, these two were pathetic. Dangerous, yes, hugely. But also… utterly pathetic. Like two children vying for her attention.
Now that the initial shock was over, she managed to glance around and take in her surroundings. She was in the middle of a raised stone platform in a large square. A huge palatial building stood in front of them, built from ebony stone, and covered in briar bushes with red flowers. Above them, golden towers sparkled in the sunlight. High walls surrounded them on all sides. And inside the square, everywhere she looked were jabbering ugly creatures with pointed chins and hairy snouts, staring at her out of the same small yellow eyes. Grimaald demons. Hundreds of them.
In front of her on the platform, seated in a semi-circle, their hands tied behind their backs and their heads lolling, were five humans. She glared at Matteus and the beast. “What have you done to them?”
“We’ve drained them. They are not keeping up with demand.” Igor grunted, hulking over to one of the humans and poking at her inert frame with a clawed fist.
“Don’t!” Clare shouted. “Don’t you dare touch her!”
Igor’s jaw went slack for a moment. He looked like he might swipe out at her, then seemed to think better of it.
Matteus was at her shoulder now, his gloved hand stroking the back of her neck. “You heard the great one, sweetheart. Get to work and replenish their blood stocks. And when you’ve finished with them,” he curved his other hand around her waist and pulled her close, sniffing at her neck, “maybe I will partake of you myself.”
She elbowed him in the stomach. “Get me a dagger,” she gritted out.
“So you can use it against me? Try another trick, princess.” Matteus scoffed.
“If you want me to save these poor humans, get me a fucking dagger,” she spat back, fear deserting her and anger taking its place.
Matteus just glared at her, until Igor shouted for him do to as he was fucking told. In turn, Matteus shouted at the grimaalds. “Bring a dagger.” There was a kerfuffle, and finally a dagger was brought to her. Clare grabbed it and moved close to the first human. She bared her arm, then sliced into the skin on the underside of her forearm. She felt a sharp pang of pain, then saw dark blood welling up, running down her arm. She heard the assembled grimaalds snorting and snuffling as they shuffled closer, scenting her. She saw Matteus, a shadow behind her, and turned and shouted, wielding the dagger. “Keep your distance. All of you.”
Then she raised the first human’s head. It was Natalie; she was barely conscious.
