“Listen.”
I didn’t hesitate. Curiosity propelled me forward. Bending down, I placed my ear against the stone’s rough surface. But no sooner had my ear touched it then I had to jerk away.
Screams. Weeping, hideous screams.
“Lost souls,” the Night Terror drew his lips into a chilling smile. “Only true Night Terrors can hear the cries encapsulated in the Hell Stone.”
“Hell Stone?” I repeated. Sending the stone a wary look, I hastily stepped away.
“There are places where darkness rules,” the Keeper intoned. And then turning to the Night Terrors still standing in their archways, he added, “And we mustn’t allow additional darkness to ascend. We must assist this warlock. Come down, my brethren. We must leave, immediately.”
I moved to join Lucian as the cloaked figures lit lanterns and floated down from above. It was creepy; they seemed weightless.
Lucian wasn’t as fascinated by the whole scene as I was. Pivoting on his heel, he strode out of the chamber with an obvious purpose as the Night Terrors followed, chanting strange words.
I trailed behind, distracted by the lanterns drifting before me through the chambers toward the exit. In just a few short minutes, there must have been over a hundred of the cloaked figures filing up the steps after Lucian.
I trailed behind them, wondering what they had planned. What would the tourists think upon seeing a hundred dark-cowled Night Terrors carrying lanterns in the streets of Venice? It wasn’t Carnival, and it wasn’t exactly flying under the radar.
I’d lost track of Lucian. I guessed he’d already ascended up the stone stairs, and as I placed my foot upon the first step, the Night Terrors suddenly stopped.
I didn’t wait to see if I was in danger. I just acted. With knife in hand, I dashed past the strange creatures and up the stairs with vampirical speed, slipping past the waiting Night Terrors in such a rush that their robes flurried about their long, skinny legs and their lanterns flickered.
I arrived at the top to see Lucian standing on the top step.
There had been no cause for alarm. The Night Terrors were simply waiting their turn. They shuffled past Lucian, each one pausing in front of the warlock to hand him an amulet from their pocket, from a chain around their neck, or in a ring.
Lucian fixed his attention on each amulet and touched it to his forehead before returning it to its owner.
One moment, a cloaked Night Terror stood there. The next, a stout policeman. A grizzled archeologist. Two dewy-faced schoolgirls. A boisterous tourist with a Louis Vuitton handbag.
Spelled.
I saw it in action.
Somehow, Lucian used the mana trapped in their amulet to cast a spell to hide them. No wonder humans had no awareness of the Charmed amongst them—they were simply cast into obscurity.
Relieved, I slid my knife back into my boot and inserted myself into the line.
“And your amulet?” Lucian asked with an air of professionalism as I arrived.
I gave an inward scoff. Oh yeah—the Goldfish cracker-sized snack of mana. Was he joking with me?
“I don’t really need a disguise,” I asserted with a playful wink. “Been doing just fine without one so far, haven’t I?” I waved a hand over myself suggestively.
He tilted his head to the side and lifted a brow. And then to my surprise, he gripped my arm and pulled me close to him.
“You’re hiding something from me, Cass.” He breathed on my lips. A muscle ticked on his jaw.
I couldn’t stop the shiver raging through me. I knew he felt it, too. Something entered his eyes, a kind of hunger.
Cripes. I was going to have to find his weak spot soon. If I didn’t, I would lose this game to him.
Mustering every ounce of strength I possessed, I pushed myself away from the warlock and lifted my chin. “Everyone is hiding something, Lucian,” I retorted with a nonchalant shrug. “And you, more than most.”
And with that, I headed after the loud tourist with the overpriced
I didn’t hesitate. Curiosity propelled me forward. Bending down, I placed my ear against the stone’s rough surface. But no sooner had my ear touched it then I had to jerk away.
Screams. Weeping, hideous screams.
“Lost souls,” the Night Terror drew his lips into a chilling smile. “Only true Night Terrors can hear the cries encapsulated in the Hell Stone.”
“Hell Stone?” I repeated. Sending the stone a wary look, I hastily stepped away.
“There are places where darkness rules,” the Keeper intoned. And then turning to the Night Terrors still standing in their archways, he added, “And we mustn’t allow additional darkness to ascend. We must assist this warlock. Come down, my brethren. We must leave, immediately.”
I moved to join Lucian as the cloaked figures lit lanterns and floated down from above. It was creepy; they seemed weightless.
Lucian wasn’t as fascinated by the whole scene as I was. Pivoting on his heel, he strode out of the chamber with an obvious purpose as the Night Terrors followed, chanting strange words.
I trailed behind, distracted by the lanterns drifting before me through the chambers toward the exit. In just a few short minutes, there must have been over a hundred of the cloaked figures filing up the steps after Lucian.
I trailed behind them, wondering what they had planned. What would the tourists think upon seeing a hundred dark-cowled Night Terrors carrying lanterns in the streets of Venice? It wasn’t Carnival, and it wasn’t exactly flying under the radar.
I’d lost track of Lucian. I guessed he’d already ascended up the stone stairs, and as I placed my foot upon the first step, the Night Terrors suddenly stopped.
I didn’t wait to see if I was in danger. I just acted. With knife in hand, I dashed past the strange creatures and up the stairs with vampirical speed, slipping past the waiting Night Terrors in such a rush that their robes flurried about their long, skinny legs and their lanterns flickered.
I arrived at the top to see Lucian standing on the top step.
There had been no cause for alarm. The Night Terrors were simply waiting their turn. They shuffled past Lucian, each one pausing in front of the warlock to hand him an amulet from their pocket, from a chain around their neck, or in a ring.
Lucian fixed his attention on each amulet and touched it to his forehead before returning it to its owner.
One moment, a cloaked Night Terror stood there. The next, a stout policeman. A grizzled archeologist. Two dewy-faced schoolgirls. A boisterous tourist with a Louis Vuitton handbag.
Spelled.
I saw it in action.
Somehow, Lucian used the mana trapped in their amulet to cast a spell to hide them. No wonder humans had no awareness of the Charmed amongst them—they were simply cast into obscurity.
Relieved, I slid my knife back into my boot and inserted myself into the line.
“And your amulet?” Lucian asked with an air of professionalism as I arrived.
I gave an inward scoff. Oh yeah—the Goldfish cracker-sized snack of mana. Was he joking with me?
“I don’t really need a disguise,” I asserted with a playful wink. “Been doing just fine without one so far, haven’t I?” I waved a hand over myself suggestively.
He tilted his head to the side and lifted a brow. And then to my surprise, he gripped my arm and pulled me close to him.
“You’re hiding something from me, Cass.” He breathed on my lips. A muscle ticked on his jaw.
I couldn’t stop the shiver raging through me. I knew he felt it, too. Something entered his eyes, a kind of hunger.
Cripes. I was going to have to find his weak spot soon. If I didn’t, I would lose this game to him.
Mustering every ounce of strength I possessed, I pushed myself away from the warlock and lifted my chin. “Everyone is hiding something, Lucian,” I retorted with a nonchalant shrug. “And you, more than most.”
And with that, I headed after the loud tourist with the overpriced
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