Page 8 of Thirst
Carlyle nodded. “The temple has eyes on several prospects. Only one will survive the trials, and every vampiress who enters knows it. But vanity and ambition will make them try.” He stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But you are not most. We’ve located your way in. There’s a lesser daughter of the Krudelbach family, named Ilyana, who plans to enter. Ambitious, cruel, and with fledgling abilities to manipulate water. Still young enough that she lacks a Devotion, so no mates to sense her untimely end.”
Ilyana. I added the name to my list. Soon, she would be a corpse, and I would be her ghost. I would walk the halls ofthe House of the Sanguine not as a sullied dhampir, but as a contender for the throne.
“Good.” The pain in my body continued to recede, banking to a dull, healing warmth. “The sooner I get inside, the sooner I can start crossing more names off my list.”
Carlyle reached into his robes and withdrew a leather pouch. “Payment for completing the contract.” He set it on the lab bench with a soft clink of coins. “The temple honors its debts.”
I stared at the pouch for a moment before handing it back. “I tithe half to the temple. The rest goes toward supplies for the infiltration.”
He curled his fingers around it and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Get some sleep, Sidney. You’ve earned it. Let the temple handle the logistics. Just be ready.”
I looked back at my list on the wrinkled paper. This wasn’t just a mission. It was a reckoning.
“I’ll keep an ear out for when the Trials of Succession begin,” Carlyle said. “Sanguine won’t remain leaderless for long. Are you prepared to do what needs to be done?”
I recognized the irony of planning to wear a crown built on murder and betrayal. Yet sometimes, one must embrace the darkness to destroy it from within.
“I promise I’ll complete the mission.” It fell short of the vow he sought, but it remained my only recourse.
As he left, I returned to my research table. The serum needed more work. I couldn’t afford to fail again, but perfection couldn’t be dictated at my convenience. I’d forged version after version relentlessly, chasing perfection until it bent to my will.
To purge the corruption from vampiric veins.
To make a monster human again.
My hands trembled as I reached for the blade. Bloodloss had already left my body weakened. I had nothing to spare, yet I pressed the edge to my skin and watched a crimson bead spill into the mixture that would save Zane.
Science thrived on asking the right questions. Tonight, only one mattered: How do you remove venom from the envenomed?
The answer lay in understanding how vampire toxin worked. My dhampir blood was still the key, suspended in time at the point of transition when a human became a vampire.
Sleep took me despite my intentions to keep going. A brief collapse onto the narrow cot, where I dreamed of nothing but blessed darkness. When I woke, the healing serum had worked its magic. My cheekbone mostly healed, the deep gashes on my arms had closed to thin pink lines, and for the first time in months, I felt…restored.
I brewed Dr. Hillman's favored tea: moonroot petals for clarity; thornspice bark to stave off sleep; a whisper of goldleaf bloom, sharp and bitter; and a few other herbs. She'd never named the blend, but it always smelled like vigilance and stayed long on the tongue.
The ceramic mug warmed my palms as steam curled upward, carrying the familiar scent that always meant late nights in the lab, breakthrough moments, and quiet conversations about the impossible. The first sip hit my tongue with bitter comfort.
Then, I toiled through the rest of the night, testing and adjusting. Each failure brought me closer to success.
I leaned over the arcane lens, an enchanted glass that hummed softly as I adjusted the focus. Beneath its magnified glow, my blood swirled on the strip of glass, rich and dark, shifting with unnatural energy. Sparks flickered within the crimson depths, reacting to the serum, but the power never quite went inert as I intended.
Faint light crept through the tiny windows of the basement as dawn broke over the temple spires. Carlyle arrived, balancing breakfast and fresh news, his presence a quiet disruption to the dim sanctuary I had carved for myself.
“The vampires will begin to assemble for the trials four days from now in the Sanguine mansion.” He placed a tray of eggs, fruit, and tea on the nearby table.
“Good. That gives me time to prepare to take out Ilyana.” I accepted the tea gratefully, letting the warm liquid soothe my parched throat. “What else?”
“Our intelligence suggests Zane is still in the castle.”
My hands tightened around the teacup. Five months since he’d been taken. Five months of wondering if anything of the man I’d loved remained in the monster he’d become. “Is he…himself?”
Carlyle’s expression softened with sympathy. “I don’t know, Sidney. The reports are conflicting.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. I would face the answer firsthand. The next game loomed on the horizon, and I intended to be the last player standing.
Chapter 3
Sidney
