Page 43 of Heart of Dawn
My chest rumbled with a growling response. “Right. What are we doing?”
Daria faced the door again, deep in thought.
I folded my arms and stepped back, thinking hard myself. How fortified was this room? How strong willed was the prick inside it?
Daria waved her hand across the door again as I moved down the corridor, searching for an answer, a weak spot.
My eyes found a loft hatch.
The roof had collapsed, opening a path to potential weakness.
Excellent.
With no handle or cord to open the hatch, I jumped up and punched it. The ceiling was low enough for my fist to go all the way through to the other side. I dragged the hatch open with the new hole.
I half expected a ladder to slide out, but only fresh air flowed into the landing.
“Leave here!” the magi cried. “Leave me alone!”
His fear was palpable and delicious.
I climbed into the loft, finding a sea of debris from the collapsed roof along with a lot of dust. Navigating a maze of crushed boxes and busted antique clocks, breaking through thick walls of cobwebs, I came to the area above the magi’s room. The floor was patchy—part wooden planks, part exposed insulation.
Crouching, I checked for runes on the planks, finding nothing. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Movement behind me, the vampire by my side seconds later.
“Foolish magi left himself exposed,” she purred.
That was all the sign I needed. I pulled up the planks to expose the insulation beneath, the magi screaming as I worked. I tore through the fiberglass, cringing in that way I did wheneverI touched cotton wool. I found the plasterboard beneath, made short work of it, then jumped through as the magi readied a spell.
I stomped over to him, grabbing him by the head, a spell on his trembling lips.
He died before he finished, his neck snapped like a fucking twig.
Dumping his body on the ground, I went to Basil on the grubby mattress over in the far-left corner. Bound by ropes and gagged with a dirty rag, he blinked up at me. There were cuts along his face, the upper half of his body exposed, open wounds under his rib cage.
Poor guy.
I removed his gag, undoing his binds. He coughed, choking on the influx of air.
“Let’s get you some water,” I said, scanning the room for a bottle or something.
“There is no water,” Daria answered.
Only jars of blood, this mattress, and a pile of hardback encyclopedias.
Daria opened the bedroom door. “Clear.”
A wave of relief crashed into me. My pack were free to leave.
Basil managed to sit up. I placed a hand on his back to support him.
“Th-Thank you,” he stammered, struggling to catch his breath.
“No worries. We weren’t going to leave you behind.”
“Where is… Where is everyone else?”
