A concentrated shove sent me tumbling closer to the door.
“No need to push,” I growled. “I’m going.” I grabbed on to the black doorknob and was immediately flung back by a strong jolt of power. “Cripes.” I recovered, shaking my hand until the sting abated. This door was spelled, and it was decidedly witchy. I had to be more careful in this madhouse. “Why didn’t you tell me it was warded?” I grumbled to my ghost posse. “That would’ve been extremely helpful.”
“Magic is weak.”
“Cannot keep us out.”
“We will help you.”
At once the door popped open, creaking on its old hinges. That was an unexpected surprise. “I could’ve used you guys in the Trow tunnel.”
“Cannot pass there.”
“Magic keeps us out.”
“Old wards are strong.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’m going to try and dial my sarcasm down to a minimum from now on.” I ducked my head through the opening and tread carefully up steps made of packed earth. They were terribly corroded and barely counted as steps. They were more like lumps of dirt. Once I reached the top, a trapdoor made of thick, white marble loomed above me.
The bottom entrance to the crypt above.
“Is this warded?” I asked.
“It is free.”
“Vampires leave it so.”
“You may enter.”
Let’s make sure, I told my wolf. I tentatively pressed a single fingernail on the marble. A soft hum of magic met my touch, but nothing threatened me directly. It was probably residual magic. The main door to the outside of the crypt was likely heavily spelled, but whoever was in charge of the torturing must think warding the trapdoor was unnecessary.
“Here we go,” I said as I braced my palms against the cool surface and pushed upward. I had to use a considerable amount of strength because the marble was crazy heavy. “This must be two feet thick,” I grunted. “But it’s working.” There was no resistance, so I kept sliding.
Once it was fully open, the smell of blood hit me.
I caught Naomi’s scent immediately following.
I leaned up and peered into the room. There were faint Gothic shapes decorating the ceiling of the chamber. It was dark inside the crypt. Just like the tunnels, and I could tell from my position and the sloping beams of the roof it was big inside, more like a mausoleum than a crypt. “Is it safe to go inside?” I asked. “No other nasties waiting to attack?” Why not ask my ghost pals if I had the chance? I didn’t detect anything, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t lurking.
“You can enter,” a whisper floated by my ear.
“No one is here.”
“Can I see my mommy now?”
Good grief.
I eased myself through the opening, my body back to my human form. My change was automatic now, not even triggering much thought. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.
The first thing I noticed was a long, rectangle slab of stone perched in the middle of the room.
Normally it would’ve held a coffin with a dead person inside. Instead there was a single shrouded figure lying on top. This wasn’t like Selene’s lair with torture devices hanging all over the walls. This was obviously a place where they took vamps to make sure they didn’t wake. Naomi had once told me she knew how to incapacitate a vamp. I should’ve asked for details while I’d had the chance. Now I was left to my own devices. I hope she’s not badly hurt. That mummy wrap doesn’t look too promising. It could be hiding a lot of damage.
I paced toward her slowly, scenting everything I could.
There were traces of Valdov’s signature, but he hadn’t been here recently. I couldn’t identify anyone else, because I’d never smelled them before. I scented lots of blood—mostly Naomi’s, which smelled oddly like me. But the white sheet wasn’t swathed in red. How do you think they’re keeping her unconscious? I smell blood but I don’t see any.
“You must hurry.”