My Storm Sprite (My Supernatural Boyfriend Book 2) by E.E. Everly

Author:E.E. Everly [Everly, E.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-27T05:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

Count Ciprian? Anya and Killian’s sire. Of course Thandoran and I stumbled upon his main residence while demon hunting.

Of course.

Hadn’t we left Ciprian at Deorc Mansion? He took up residence there after Anya died. Perhaps he was tired of the solitude of this place in the middle of nowhere.

“All pleasantries aside,” I say. “We’re looking for a demon, and we don’t plan to stay long. Tell us where he is, and we shall go.” Ciprian will not be happy to see us, particularly Thandoran.

Vadik laughs, throwing his head back as if what I’ve said is the most hilarious thing he’s ever heard.

Thandoran rounds his eyes and nudges me toward the front door. Vadik snaps to composure. “Please. This way. If you wish to see Isac, you must meet with the master, and I’m afraid he’s simply not available right now, so you must wait. For your own safety, I would recommend a room.”

For my own safety? I glance around the entry hall, suddenly experiencing the unsettling feeling of eyes on us. More vampires? Or something else entirely? “All right. We’ll play your game. Show us to a room.” Meanwhile, I try not to hyperventilate. We’re on Ciprian’s turf. The longer we stay, the more control he’ll have over us and our lives.

“Right this way”—Vadik gestures with his hands— “princess.”

It’s my turn to round my eyes at Thandoran. Vadik knows I’m a princess. Who told him? Does this mean Ciprian knows? Had he told Vadik? Which would mean Ciprian knew Thandoran and I would come here at some point.

We walked right into a trap.

But I won’t abandon my mission. I will find Isac.

I just hope it won’t kill me.

With his hand in mine, Thandoran and I follow Vadik, taking the left corridor. We don’t say anything as we pass a dining hall on the left. The doors are open enough for me to see servants setting a long table big enough to seat fifty. How many vampires will be at this dinner? I inhale carefully. Humans. The servants are human. No doubt under compulsion. No doubt blood donors as well.

The dread in my stomach grows. Why am I allowing Vadik to lead us deeper into the castle?

Bide your time. Wait until we’re alone, and then Thandoran and I can hunt for Isac.

I try to feel brave, but I huddle close to Thandoran, keeping an eye on my surroundings. Between sconces, black and white portraits cover the walls. Some of individuals and some of families. All with straight mouths and emotionless eyes. The carpet is so thick that my boots sink in. The air is heavy with dust. The many credenzas and side tables we pass are gothic in style—ornamented and intricate.

At the end of the first corridor, past the dining hall, a grand staircase sweeps upward, but we don’t ascend it. We turn left and continue down a narrow corridor, one without doors. It’s claustrophobic. And dripping with magic, ancient magic that waits, that holds its breath, waiting to be called into action.

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