3

Vampires streamed down the tunnel, shooting wildly. But they weren’t shooting at us. They were shooting at something behind them. A thick steamy mist flooded the hallway and swallowed the vampires whole. When it cleared a few moments later, all eight vampires lay dead on the ground.

“That’s weird,” I said, looking down at them.

The vampires’ throats were slit. No bullets or cuts marred their bodies. In fact, there wasn’t a scratch on them.

“Indeed, it is weird,” Captain Somerset agreed, frowning.

“Maybe there’s an angry spirit roaming these halls.”

She shot me a hard look.

“What? We live in a world ruled by gods, and you’re telling me angry spirits don’t exist?”

“I’ve never seen one.”

I gave the dead vampires on the ground a pointed look.

“I’m sure there is another explanation.” She stepped around the vampires. “Let’s keep going.”

We made our way through the castle’s dungeon. It was like walking through a metallic jungle. Chains hung from the walls like soggy vines. Levers, wheels, and hooks jutted out from between the bricks. The Legion’s Interrogators would have felt right at home here.

A chorus of screams pierced the cold air. It was coming from a room on the right. We ran, but by the time we got there, dark fog was rising from the bodies of three dead vampires.

“I get the feeling we’re not the only ones after the vampires of House Rune,” I said.

“Except we’re not supposed to kill them. The Legion wants to question them.”

“Maybe someone doesn’t want us to question them,” I suggested.

Captain Somerset brushed her hand across the neck of one of the vampires. “The fog could be poison.”

“A witch’s brew?”

“Perhaps. We should keep our distance from it in any case.”

Legion soldiers were pretty resistant to poison, but we weren’t immune. After all, Nectar was poison. And so was Venom, the demons’ drink of choice. If witches had laced their spell with either, the fog could kill us too. But why would witches come all the way out here, deep into the monster-infested Wilds, to kill a few vampires?

“The Kane coven,” I realized. “This is their way of getting back at House Rune for turning one of their own.”

Marina had been standing right there when her brother told the Interrogators were to find Charles Rune and his band of rogues. She must have told her parents where the vampires were hiding. And now the witches were taking matters into their own hands.

“Witches,” Captain Somerset growled. She pulled out her phone. “Sergeant Vance, have you come across any mysterious fog?”

“No,” Claudia Vance’s voice came out of the phone. “Morrows?”

“Describe this fog,” Alec Morrows’s voice clicked.

“Creepy, magical, and poisonous.”

“It sounds like Captain Somerset.”

Captain Somerset frowned at the phone in her hands. “Try to take this seriously, Sergeant. The fog has already killed at least ten vampires in the south castle.”

“All’s quiet in the west castle,” Claudia told her. “We haven’t seen any fog. In fact, we haven’t seen a single vampire yet.”

“Keep your eyes out for the fog. And for any signs of witches,” said Captain Somerset.

“Witches?”

“We believe the Kane coven might be responsible for the poison fog.”

“You hear that, Morrows?” Claudia said. “The witches might have cast a storm of poisonous fog on these castles. You’d best hold your breath for the duration of this mission.”

“And deprive you of the joy of my witty tongue? I’d never dream of it.”

“You keep your tongue to yourself.”

Captain Somerset ended the call, and not a moment too soon. I did not need to hear anything more about Alec’s tongue. But at least he wasn’t talking about his cannon.

“What now?” I asked.

In response, my jacket buzzed. I reached in and pulled out my phone.

“Hey, Leda,” Drake spoke, his voice so quiet I could barely hear him.

“Drake? Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t want it to find us.”

‘Us’ meant Drake and Jace. They were partners on this mission. Neither one had looked particularly pleased when Captain Somerset made the assignment.

“What is it?” I asked Drake.

“The fog.”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the cloud of poison rolling around the castlessouth, killing vampires, would it?” I asked him.

“You’ve seen it? And survived?”

“It didn’t target us. We saw it kill a few vampires and then dissipate. It doesn’t seem interested in killing anyone but the rogue vampires.”

“Not just vampires,” Jace said grimly. “It tried to eat us.”

“It nipped Jace’s arm before he managed to pull it away,” Drake told me. “It ate right through his clothes. Every inch of skin from his wrist up to his elbow is covered in blisters.”

Why would the witches target Drake and Jace? Maybe they realized the Legion would not be happy they were killing our prisoners. But if they were just trying to cover their tracks by killing all witnesses, then why hadn’t their poison fog attacked me and Captain Somerset?

Captain Somerset grabbed my phone. “Where is the fog now?”

“It’s dissipated,” Jace said.

“If you see it again, keep your distance. We’re coming,” she told the guys, then hung up. She handed my phone back to me. “They’re in the southwest castle. This passage should lead us there. We’re going to find the fog, those witches, and put an end to this nonsense.”

“Wait.”

We both turned at the sound of that voice, a voice that did not belong in this place.

Nero was behind us, his body framed by a halo of pale light. Magic. No daylight reached this part of the twisting tunnel. Nero’s magic, on the other hand, penetrated everything. The angel looked at me with eyes that burned like green fire. His gaze cut through me, right to my raw, naked soul. It burned away everything, until it was just the two of us and no one else. Nothing else.

He stood with his arms folded across his chest, a pose that accentuated the hard, supple muscles of both. The angel was like catnip for any woman with a pulse. I made a concentrated effort not to ogle. As Nero would say, ogling was not becoming of a soldier of the Legion. Sometimes behaving myself was seriously dull.

He wore the usual black leather uniform of the Legion. It was like a second skin to him, a part of him, of who he was. I’d once asked him if he even took off his uniform before he went to bed. He’d replied that I was welcome to come find out.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him. “Are you here to deal with the vampires?”

“No, I’m here to deal with the fog. Or, more specifically, the person behind the fog.”

He must have predicted that the Kane coven would go after the vampires.

“Which witch cast the spell?” I asked him.

“It was not a witch who cast the spell. It was my father.”