CHAPTER17
The woodand metal rattles as the monsters pound into it. Four thuds in total. There were even more than I thought.
“Don’t say anything,” Ruvan breathes, so soft I almost don’t hear it. I couldn’t speak if I tried. My heart is hammering in my throat.
After what feels like an hour, the pounding and snarling and scratching slowly subsides. I continue to press my back against the doors; my legs quiver with the exertion of making sure the creatures remain trapped inside. Nothing is even trying to break through anymore. But all I can see is those fiends barreling toward me.
A light touch on my forearm has me peeling open my eyes. I don’t even remember shutting them. Ruvan slowly raises a finger to his lips. I get the message loud and clear.
We move in strained silence. Our feet drag with exhaustion. The dark passage is seemingly never-ending. The faintest of whispers of wind in the distance, or creaking of ancient foundations, has me jumping out of my skin.
I hope he knows where he’s going, but I can’t find the courage to ask. I imagine being lost down here. Left to starve. Forgotten. I’ve been with the vampire for days now and somehow, after my initial fight with Ruvan, this is the first time that I’ve truly felt like I’m going to die.
The vampire blood—Ruvan’s blood—is finally beginning to wane in my veins. I’m growing tired. No, exhausted. I won’t be able to fight another horde like I did earlier and Ruvan doesn’t look steady enough on his feet to offer more power.
We’re going to die here.
The void in the yawning, endless hall before me is alive, encroaching, compressing—in and around. I can’t fight it anymore. It’s under my skin, hollowing me out from within. The silver of my sickle isn’t enough. It was never enough to protect me from all the evil that lurks in the living shadows. Panic claws its way up my throat and escapes as a whimper.
Ruvan turns on me, pressing me into the wall. He clamps a hand over my mouth. With his other hand he brings a finger to his lips again. Eyes intense, he slowly shakes his head.
Don’t speak, don’t make a single noise, I can almost hear him say, resonating across the tenuous connection we share. I can feel his magic quivering with nerves that I’ve never sensed from him before. He’s becoming weaker by the second. He’s afraid too.
Somehow, that calms me. I think his fear should make me tremble even more. He should be my protector and savior in this labyrinth of monsters. His fear should make me spiral deeper into hopelessness. But, oddly enough, it grounds me. Maybe it’s because in his eyes, I see humanity—I see real emotion that is mirrored within me. I can understand him.
Maybe I’m calmer because seeing him afraid ignites an instinct to reassure him. To be stable for him if I can’t be for myself. As I worry more about his state, I’m less afraid of the unknown that lingers in the shadows. I worry about him instead of myself and that feels like home.
My breathing slows.
His hand slides away from my mouth, but doesn’t leave my person. It lingers on my shoulder. Fingertips trail down my arm. Lightly, tentatively, he takes my hand, as if to say, We can do this together.
No. That can’t be it. He just doesn’t want me tripping in the darkness. Though, he hadn’t held my hand until now. I squeeze his fingers lightly. He squeezes back and neither of us break the hold.
After many twists and turns, I hear him exhale a sigh of relief. It’s faint, but after straining my ears and hearing nothing for what seems like hours, it’s loud to me. Ruvan turns and starts with renewed purpose. Eventually, we come to stop at a door. It leads into a foyer, appointed with furniture similar in style to his room. Even though the adornments are far more decrepit, it looks as though they were once even more opulent than anything I’ve seen so far. We cross into a sitting area, and then a bedroom. He closes every door behind us, agonizingly slowly so as not to make a sound, and then barricades it with what he can. I assist with the heavier lifting. His feet are beginning to drag and I notice him continually grabbing at his wounded forearm.
He takes a turn around the bedroom we end up in, lifting tapestries off the walls and checking behind them. Most crumble in his hands. There’s another door that leads to a dressing room, connected back to the foyer. He barricades these doors as well.
While he does so, I pull back the curtains on the window. I need to see something other than the endless, oppressive walls of the old castle, void of all light. Like the tapestries, the fabric disintegrates under my hands. Moonlight pours into the room and I sigh with relief. I never thought the moon could be so comforting, or seeing the sky so freeing.
“I think this is as safe as we’re going to get for tonight.” Ruvan sits at the foot of the bed, inspecting his wounded arm. He begins to pull at his gauntlet, fumbling with the straps of his plate.
“Here, let me help you.”
“You, a hunter, want to help the fearsome vampire lord?” He says vampire like I do to mock me, I’m sure.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don’t look that fearsome right now.”
“Let me try harder.” He bares his fangs. It might have terrified me once, maybe even earlier this day. But now I snort softly. The expression almost makes me laugh. A smirk slips across his lips as well.
“Still sub-par,” I say lightly.
“Ah, damn.” He doesn’t sound like he means it. “Are you some kind of secret healer?”
“Unfortunately not. But I’ve seen my share of wounds.” Before he can object further, I have three clasps undone.
“You have quick fingers. You take armor off men often?” He arches his eyebrows.
The question catches me so off guard I can’t stop the blurt of laughter. “Something like that.”
