A Turn of Tides (A Shade of Vampire #13)(50)

Moonlight streamed through the massive window panes.

It was late.

Hopefully I wouldn’t bump into anyone.

I hurried toward one of the windows and peered out into the night.

The building was surrounded by lush gardens.

My heart leapt as I spotted in the distance the same gates we’d attempted to enter earlier, where Patricia and I had been taken by the guards.

Yes, this is the palace.

As I turned around to face the hall again, my jaw dropped in horror.

I was leaving a trail of blood across the pristine floors.

But there was no time to cover my tracks.

Now, my only hope was finding Mona in time before someone tracked me down.

I sniffed the air, trying to detect any trace of her in the atmosphere.

I couldn’t.

From the looks of it, this palace was huge.

She was probably still too far away.

On spotting a wide staircase leading up to the floor above, I swept toward it and ascended it.

I emerged in a spacious hallway with doors on either side.

As I hurried toward the nearest one to me, a wave of nausea threatened to overtake me.

I flattened my palm against the nearest wall, closing my eyes and trying to ground myself once again.

Mona.

Just think of Mona.

I staggered forward until I reached the door and sniffed.

I had no idea how big the room, or perhaps apartment, was behind this door, but I was certain that it wouldn’t be large enough to prevent me from detecting my girl.

Although vampires’ sense of smell wasn’t nearly as acute as werewolves’, as long as I was within a reasonable distance, I should have no trouble sensing her.

I moved to the next door along and stopped to sniff the air.

Still nothing.

In this way, I staggered from door to door.

By the time I’d reached the last one, I still couldn’t sense her.

I moved up another staircase toward the next level.

I’d long lost track of how many doors I’d stopped outside of by the time I’d reached nine levels up, and I was practically blind with dizziness.

It was all I could do to take even one more step.

Pulling myself up the tenth staircase, I stopped in my tracks as I sensed someone approaching above me.

I stumbled back down the stairs and leapt into the shadow of a nearby pillar just in time to see a couple descending—glasses of wine in their hands, their lips glued to each other.

They were so wrapped up in each other, they didn’t seem to even notice my bloodstains on the floor as they reached the bottom of the stairs and moved away down the corridor.

I sighed in relief before once again attempting to climb the tenth staircase.

I still had no luck detecting Mona after a dozen more doors, but as I reached the end of the corridor, I stopped.

I heard a smashing four doors along from me.

And as I neared, anticipation began to flow through my veins.

It was only a slight hint at first—it could have easily been my imagination—but once I arrived outside the rosewood door, the scent was undeniable.

Mona was somewhere behind this door.

I could feel it.

Now I had to decide whether to knock, or attempt to break down the door.

I placed my ear against it.

The smashing had stopped, and had been replaced by… shouts.

“Mona! Wake up!” My brother’s voice? There was no way I had any patience to knock now.

Five sharp kicks, and I broke the door open.

I stared around the apartment.

Someone shuffled toward me down the sprawling corridor to my left.

I spun around to see a witch hurrying toward me.

But it wasn’t Mona.

She had dark hair and wore a grey cotton nightgown.

She stared at me in alarm before motioning to raise her palms.

I’d had enough of being knocked around by witches for one day.

Lunging forward, I knocked her to the floor and pinned down her arms with my knees.

Then, taking a leaf out of Hagatha’s book, I ripped through her palms before she could expel a curse.

Leaving her bleeding and cradling her hands, I continued toward the shouting.

It led me to a door at the very end of the hallway.

As I pushed it open, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

While Mona lay—apparently sleeping—in a double bed, Abby and Erik were battling a ghoul that was about to slice through Abby’s heart.

Oh God, not another one of these things…

Chapter 33: Abby

Our attempt to kill the ghoul didn’t quite go according to plan.

Although we never really had a plan so much as a few harebrained ideas thrown together during the few minutes Erik and I had spent exchanging hurried words in the closet.

We didn’t know much about ghouls other than what we’d gleaned from the snippets of conversation we’d overheard in Corrine’s quarters before we’d left The Shade.

We’d learned that they switched between subtle and physical forms at will, and it was only while in their physical form that they could be killed.

Severing a ghoul’s head was the way to end it, according to Patricia, and its neck was the most fragile part of its body.

The problem was, most ghouls’ victims witnessed their insides spilling from their stomachs before they ever got within four feet of the creature’s throat.