A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)(48)

And here I go, overthinking things at the wrong time…

The night sky above had turned indigo, with passing clouds that swallowed the stars as they moved toward the east. The second moon was coming up in shades of amber, casting a warmer light over the jagged edges and corners of the city’s white buildings, the picket fences, and the brown cobblestones beneath our feet.

I stayed behind Patrik for a while, just taking a few minutes to admire his entire frame, from the messy and curly black hair that inched longer at the back, to his broad shoulders and narrow hips—perfectly framed by his black pants and white cotton shirt, fitted with belts and straps to keep his fighting equipment and Druid supplies in place. I didn’t even notice him stop until I bumped into him.

“I… Sorry, Patrik, I… I wasn’t looking,” I mumbled, then moved around and proceeded to walk by his side. He watched me quietly as we headed down the main road, occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

“Of course. All good, nothing to worry about.” I forced my face into a smile that felt more like a plastic grin.

“Worried about what might wait for us down at the mine?” His blue eyes nearly pierced through my soul, leaving me with a feeling of nakedness and vulnerability that I had no idea how to overcome. I gave him a weak nod in response, hoping that would end our conversation.

I was getting nervous, mostly because I wanted him to talk about the kiss—I was dying to hear his thoughts, and, at the same time, I was terrified, but it wasn’t the right time, and I saw no point in just filling the silence with other words. Every thought that my mind was producing was leading back to our kiss in the library.

Thankfully, he didn’t say much else, either, until we reached the mine.

We both stopped to stare at it for a couple of minutes. It was just as Master Specter had described it, but it looked absolutely stunning. The garnet mine had a diamond-shaped entrance, with red light flickering from inside, confirming the rich crystal deposits within. It was sheltered beneath a sharp ridge, covered in a sea of red flowers that reminded me of poppies, with large, square petals and thin stems. It contrasted beautifully against the tall, green grass of the plain behind us, and the patches of gray limestone of the mountain base.

“I think it’s best if I go in, and you keep a lookout,” Patrik suggested.

I opened my mouth to reply, but froze as the air rippled just a couple of feet behind him.

“Patrik, watch out!” I growled, and immediately took my sword out, my gaze locked on a pair of red, glimmering eyes as I rushed toward the daemon.

Patrik muttered a spell under his breath, and I heard water splashing, just as I ran my sword through an invisible daemon’s throat. Droplets of water reached us, some trickling down the fiend’s face and revealing him, inch by inch, as he gurgled blood.

The screech of a sword was followed by heavy grunting. I turned around and was swiftly faced by another, now-visible daemon. There were two of them left, and Patrik was fighting the other one.

I dodged my second opponent’s long claws—he missed my side by an inch, at most, further riling me up. He was about five times my size, as far as muscle mass was concerned, and held at least another foot over me. He was quite agile, repeatedly coming at me with his bare hands, but he wasn’t as fast as “the Bullet”.

I swerved to the left and rammed my fist into his ribs, then darted to the right just as he turned to hit me. I brought my sword up in a diagonal movement and caught his chest in full, the blade sinking at least four inches into his flesh before coming back out with a blood spurt.

He groaned from the pain, and I quickly turned and beheaded him before he could think of retaliation. The horned bastard hadn’t stood a chance, and, judging by the collapsed mess in front of Patrik, the third daemon hadn’t made it either.

Patrik and I exchanged glances. He gave me a wink and a confident smirk, then sheathed his sword. He froze, staring somewhere behind me, and gripped his sword again. My instincts kicked in again, and I turned to see two more daemons, both invisible and rippling through the air above us as they jumped off the ridge.

Before I could even bring my sword up, however, a large black mass shot from the bushes behind the ridge and rammed into one of the daemons. Patrik took on the other one, jumping in front of me, his sword coming out of its scabbard once more.

“What the…” I managed, as Patrik killed his opponent in less than a minute and looked for the black mass. I found it just twenty feet from us and stilled, realizing what I was looking at. “Patrik, the pit wolf…”

The giant, black-skinned creature with large red eyes had its fangs sunk into an invisible daemon’s throat, judging by the shape forming beneath a coat of fresh, jugular blood.

“Whoa,” I murmured, as the pit wolf shuddered and tossed the daemon aside like an old rag doll. “That’s a… good boy?”

Patrik moved in front of me, in an attempt to shield me from whatever the pit wolf might do next, but I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, unable to take my eyes off the creature.

“Don’t,” I said to Patrik, recognizing the pit wolf without a charmed collar. “It’s the one we sort of rescued. He won’t hurt us. I think…”

The beast licked its furless snout, its tongue dangling loosely to the side, and came closer. I walked toward it, putting my sword away and extending my arms out in a peaceful gesture—my heart was hammering in my chest, but I had faith I’d live through this encounter.