Page 56 of Midnight Queen

Quincey’s hands fall from her hair, and she stands there, looking lost. A varying array of emotions crosses her face until she settles on one. Determination. “No one else can die because of him,” she declares. “Take me to him.Now.”

The irony that Silas’s supersecret vampire‘Bat Cave’is located in an old decrepit-looking chapel isn’t lost on me.

What better place for a sinful king to run parts of his highly immoral empire than in a place of worship? Seems completely on brand for him if you ask me.

Another time, I probably would have laughed hysterically at it, but my sweaty hands, and the mixture of anxiety and anger inside of me, are stopping me from experiencing the full extent of the humor. It’s something I will file away and save for a later, less serious, date.

One thing is clear, it’s been a long time since this place was holy ground.

While the outside of the building looks like something fresh out of a demonic horror movie—barbed wire and ominous graffiti acting as the cherry on top of that aesthetic—the inside looks like it’s been maintained and modernized throughout the years.

The original stained glass sits in the windows and the wooden pews are still lined up like they are waiting for worshippers to sit in them and listen to a sermon. Except there isn’t a preacher standing behind his pulpit at the front of the room.

There’s only a large ornate metal chair that sits there like a lonely fixture. It’s on the raised platform, so whoever sits in it can look down at the people sitting in the pews.Which I think is the point.

The steady sound of my heels clicking on the modern gray tiles comes to an abrupt stop when I freeze in front of it. It takes everything in my power to keep my face impassive as I gawk at it.

Keep it together, Quincey. You don’t want to look like one of those fanny pack–wearing tourists when they lay their eyes on the castle at Disney World for the first time.

I clear my throat and collect myself. “You have a throne,” I manage to say, my eyes sliding to where Silas stands next to me. “That’s…neat.”

“No,” Silas corrects, face pulled in a scowl. “It’s a chair that I occasionally sit in when I’m forced to hold meetings here.”

I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what a throne is, buddy, but I digress.

“Right.Sure. Okay then. Holding meetings, holding court. Same difference.” My head bobs and my lips purse as I fight to remain composed.

There aren’t any people loitering about in here with us, but that doesn’t mean they’re not somewhere else in the building listening to us. The last thing I want is for them to witness my impending freak-out in the middle of Silas’s fuckingthrone room.

Silas frowns harder at the throne—Oh, sorry, I meanchair. “It was a gift from a long time ago. It was brought all the way over from Europe, but I never liked it.”

“Can’t see why…” I comment dryly. “It looks so…comfortable. I’m bummed we don’t have more of them at the house—they would make such great accent pieces.”

I’m vaguely aware of Lorcan covering his shit-eating grin with his tattooed fingers, but his shaking shoulders give him away.

Silas's black eyes narrow at the both of us, but he doesn’t comment further on the matter. Which is probably for the best at this point. “Stay up here,” he orders Lor. “We won’t be long.”

I’m not sure if the last part was directed at Lorcan or at me, but either way, I agree. There is no reason to prolong this visit any longer than absolutely necessary.

Silas leads me to a metal door with a keypad on it that reminds me of the one on the front door of his house. His palm lays across the reader and after a buzzing sound, it flashes green. Multiple locking mechanisms can be heard twisting and turning inside before the door cracks open.

Even before I see the stone stairs leading down, I know it’s a basement by the cool air that rushes over the exposed skin of my arms.

Opening the door wider, Silas looks at me, waiting for me to walk through myself. He doesn’t push or rush me, but instead allows me to set the pace in which I confront my monster.

With a steadying breath, I descend the steps into darkness. Each step I take, I steel myself further. By the time I reach the bottom, I’m no longer anxious about seeing Gideon.

I have a purpose—a job—to do here and that’s it. All I need is the name and then I will never have to look at his odd robotic expression again.

Silas takes hold of my wrist in a loose grip and guides me down the dark hallway. There aren’t any lights because this isn’t a building that humans were ever meant to explore. The good news is I stopped being afraid of the dark a long time ago.

We come to a stop after a brief pause, there’s a green flash just like before and a door swings open in front of us.

My eyes burn from the abrupt change of lighting and for a moment, all I can see are spots. I thought the lighting in a hospital was bright, but it pales in comparison to the lighting in this room.

Blinking away the dots, I try to focus on what I’m seeing in front of me and when I do, my stomach drops.

I had grand plans for what I wanted to happen to him. As I lay there on that metal table, I envisioned all the ways I wanted him to suffer. The thoughts brought me comfort at the time and appeased the angry beast that had come alive inside of me.

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