Page 84 of Chasing Stripes

“If you three are quite finished with your trap-disabling contest,” Kalyna interjected dryly, “perhaps we could continue before the eclipse begins?”

This sobered the group immediately. They proceeded with renewed caution, Thora and Artair taking turns dismantling magical alarms and traps without further commentary on their respective tallies.

The tunnel gradually widened, the roughly hewn walls giving way to worked stone until they emerged into a vast chamber with a vaulted ceiling supported by ancient columns. Unlike the natural formations they’d navigated, this space showed signs of recent use—modern magical equipment intermixed with historical artifacts, all arranged around a central ritual circle inscribed on the stone floor.

Artemis felt the magic here immediately—old power, layered with newer workings, creating a discordant energy that set her teeth on edge.

And standing in the center of the ritual circle, waiting as if he’d been expecting them all along, was a tall figure in an elaborate robe embroidered with arcane symbols.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice carrying an odd resonance that made Artemis’s skin crawl. “I’ve been expecting you.”

They spread out instinctively, Thora and Rust flanking the sides while Bartek pulled Artemis slightly behind him in a protective gesture. The figure reached up and lowered his hood, revealing a face that twisted and shifted as if multiple identities were fighting for dominance beneath a powerful glamour spell.

“The Collector, I presume?” Artemis asked, surprised by the steadiness of her own voice.

The figure inclined his head slightly. “Indeed. Though I prefer my actual name—Elias Nightshade.”

The revelation struck Artemis like a physical blow. Nightshade—a name she knew from her family’s history books, though it hadn’t been spoken in generations.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered. “The Nightshade line died out over a century ago.”

The glamour on his face stabilized momentarily, revealing features that bore an unsettling resemblance to her own—the same cheekbones, similar eye shape, though his irises shifted between vampire red and fae gold in an unnatural rhythm.

“How little your family has taught you,” Elias replied, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “The Nightshades didn’t die out—we were expunged from the family records after my great-grandmother committed the unforgivable sin of falling in love with a vampire.”

Artemis felt Bartek tense beside her, his tiger instincts sensing the depth of the threat before them.

“You’re my relative,” she realized aloud. “A distant cousin.”

“I’m what your precious family tried to erase,” he corrected coldly. “Half-fae, half-vampire, and denied the birthright that should have been mine.”

“What?”

SEVENTY-FIVE

“Thaddeus Dartmouth is simply my most recent identity,” Elias explained, his glamour shifting briefly to reveal the businessman’s familiar features before returning to his true appearance. “One identity in a long line of personas I’ve adopted over years. The perfect cover—a supposedly human businessman interested in local history and antiquities. No one questions when such a man shows interest in old buildings or family heirlooms.”

He gestured toward their glowing string with undisguised envy. “That connection—the one your family cultivated so carefully through selective breeding with shifter lines—it was meant to manifest in every generation. Yet when it appeared in my great-grandmother, your family broke the bond by force because her chosen mate was ‘impure.’“

His face contorted with ancient rage. “They severed a connection rather than allow vampire blood to strengthen the Blu line.”

Rust took a cautious step forward, his diplomatic mayor’s instincts temporarily overriding his lion aggression. “Whatever happened to your ancestors doesn’t justify terrorizing innocent people today.”

“Innocent?” Elias laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally throughout the chamber. “The founding families of Enchanted Falls built their power on magical theft and selective bloodlines. There’s nothing innocent about any of you.”

As he spoke, Artemis noticed movement in the shadows behind him—cages containing huddled figures. Her heart sank as she realized these must be the captives Alaric had mentioned.

“Your cousin,” she said, addressing Elias directly. “Viridian Nightbourne. Is he here too?”

Something flickered across The Collector’s glamoured face—surprise, perhaps, that she knew that name.

“My dear little baker,” he replied with mocking sweetness, “I’ve collected many magical specimens over the years. Vampire, shifter, fae—all provide unique energies for my work.”

He gestured toward a large apparatus positioned above the ritual circle—a complex arrangement of crystals, metals, and what appeared to be magical focusing lenses, all aligned with disturbing precision.

“But none of them compare to what you and your tiger offer,” he continued. “A fully manifested soul-tether, strengthened by genuine emotion, connecting bloodlines with centuries of magical potential.” His mismatched eyes gleamed with covetous intensity. “The power contained in your bond could fuel magical workings beyond anything this town has ever seen.”

Artemis felt her fae magic rising in response to the threat, golden light swirling around her hands. Beside her, Bartek let out a low growl, his form shimmering as his tiger nature fought to emerge.

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