Page 27 of Tainted Souls
Instead, he’d disappeared right when our target attacked. I barely escaped, stumbling back to base with a dislocated shoulder and deep gashes across my back.
“Got separated,” was all Ellis said during the debrief, not meeting my eyes. No one questioned him.
That night, I packed my things and left without saying goodbye.
Better to be a venator with no ties than a pariah in the only home I had left.
I moved back into our childhood home. The key stuck in the lock, rusty from disuse.
When the door finally swung open, dust motes danced in the shaft of late afternoon sunlight. Everything was exactly as we’d left it years ago when we moved to the academy dormitories, with family photos on the walls, Saul’s favorite silly mug still on the coffee table, and Dad’s jacket draped over a hook by the back door. Dropping my duffel bag on the floor, I ran my fingers along a family photo on the wall displaying the four of us at the lake, smiling, Mom’s white hair gleaming in the moonlight.
Saul’s clothes still hung in his closet, his favorite books still lined his shelves, but the house felt emptier than ever.
I tried tracking him through our twin telepathy, that indefinable connection that had often let me sense his emotions and general whereabouts.
But for the first time in our lives, there was nothing. Just a void where my brother should be. That’s when I knew.
He hadn’t just gone to meet the vampire—he had gonewithhim. Chosen the murderer over me. As a last resort, I racked my brain for the raven insignia the letter was signed with, deciding right then and there to use it to track him down. I grabbed a scrap of paper, my hand shaking as I sketched the symbol, tracing it over and over until the sharp lines burned into my memory. I couldn’t afford to forget, not even for a moment. The raven would be the guide to my brother.
And my vengeance.
“Seraph?” The general’s voice, gentler than before, pulls me back to the present.
I blink, realizing we’ve stopped walking and reached a set of double doors marked TRANSITION WARD. A keypad glows beside it, and the general enters the code. “We’re here.”
I nod, trying to shake off the memories.
The doors slide open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a long corridor lined with observation windows. Behind each of them lies a person fighting the most painful transformation imaginable.
The lights are dimmed, and every bed is surrounded by monitoring equipment and IV stands delivering clear fluids.
“Third door on the right,” he says, hanging back.
“Thank you.”
I take a deep breath and move forward alone.
CHAPTER 5
BEHINDTHE GLASS,Max lies strapped to a medical bed, his body occasionally spasming against the restraints. Monitors display his vital signs—temperature sinking, heart rate erratic, blood pressure plummeting. His skin has taken on an alabaster pallor, the veins beneath already starting to turn black.
“Seraph,” the general calls after me, his voice low. “Remember that the man you knew has died. What emerges isn’t the same person.”
I turn and meet his gaze steadily. “I know what transition means.”
Upon noticing me, a nurse approaches from inside the room, coming to the intercom beside the door. “How can I help you?” she asks, her voice tinny through the speaker.
“I’m his partner.”
There’s a hint of compassion in her eyes. “Maxim’s fighting hard. Most are delirious by now, but he keeps asking for you when he’s lucid.”
I smile. “Can I go in?”
She shakes her head. “Sorry. It’s against protocol during active transition. If a patient suddenly gains vampire strength—”
“I can handle it,” I insist, meeting her gaze. “Please.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice General Lee walking up to us, signaling something with his hand. The nurse nods, pressing a button to unlock the door. “Five minutes then.”
