the sense of magic slipped from my grasp. I felt my back thud against the floor. Rolling in pain, clutching at my wound, I squeezed my eyes tight and wished for the agony to go away.
Maximus and Dash flash into my view. Dad, shackled in a crypt, weak, and starving while a filthy girl whimpers nearby. I slam against the barred door, unable to open it. I'm weak. Tired. The scraping, moaning sounds of vamplings as they shamble toward me pull my attention away from Dad. I see a still figure lying on the floor, blood puddling beneath her. It's Elyssa! A scream of grief roars from my throat, deepening to a guttural throb, a demonic howl of anguish. I will kill them all!
"Justin!"
I jerked. Sucked in a deep breath. Nightliss's face appeared above me over the side of the bed.
"You must fight it," she said.
Something wet hit my cheek. It was a tear from Nightliss's eye. "I will find a way to cure you. I promise I will. You're too important."
I sat up and looked at her, hopelessness and fear tearing me up inside. "I'm not going to make it much longer," I said. Pulling up my pants leg revealed the truth. Blackened veins pulsed around the wound. The curse was spreading.
Time was running out.
Chapter 33
I tucked Nightliss back into bed. Kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for all you've done."
She nodded, her eyelids drooping as she tried to speak. Sleep claimed her before she could say another word.
A shout of victory went up from outside. I raced around the cabin and toward the shed as Cinder, covered from head to toe in dirt, emerged from the doorway. A couple of Templars patted him on the back. Cinder smiled awkwardly, and I had to admit his attempt didn't look nearly as frightening as the first time, though one Templar jumped back when he saw it.
"They're through," Elyssa said, taking me to the door and pointing up a long sloping tunnel. Some forty feet in, a patch of daylight slanted in. "Looks like the earth simply swallowed it up centuries ago, so there's no direct access to the surface. Your golem kept digging up at a slant until he found the top."
"Did anyone make sure it's the right place?" I asked.
"Yeah, they sent up a scout. He confirmed it's in the graveyard."
"Awesome! When do we move out?"
"My father is coordinating with Christian on the best way to move in the troops. Either way, it'll take a while to move so many people through in single file."
"We'd better go through first," I said.
Elyssa crossed her arms. "You're not planning on anything rash are you? Maximus might be wounded, but he's far from done."
"No, but I don't want to be stuck waiting behind hundreds of Templars either."
"Hmm. Good point." She winked and walked back toward the cabin, leaving me alone.
Beck Andrews sauntered over from the group of Templars, an amused look on his chiseled face. He looked like a male model, and seemed to dress accordingly, with fashionably tortured jeans and an untucked, button-up shirt. "Dude, where do you find these people?" He jabbed a thumb at Cinder. "You're like a traveling circus."
I felt anger stir inside me at the sight of him, remembering how he'd prematurely led Thomas Borathen to us, after we'd captured Vadaemos Slade, just to get brownie points. Apparently, I hadn't completely forgiven him yet. "That's funny, Beck. You're like a travelling douche yourself."
He laughed. "Aw, c'mon. Don't tell me you still have hard feelings—"
I got in his face so fast, I didn't even remember crossing the distance. My leg throbbed with pulsing cold. "If I had hard feelings, you'd be a puddle of red mush right now." I felt a cruel smile spread across my lips. "Luckily, I'm a forgiving guy."
For once, Beck actually looked a bit scared, wide-eyed and back on his heels. "Crap, dude, I'm sorry, okay?" He took a step back. "I shouldn't have done it, I see that now."
"Oh, really? I wonder how all the Templars who died that day feel about it." The cold anger inside me swelled like an alien presence, choking my heart with thorny vines. "I wonder how Elyssa's dead brother feels about it."
His face went white, and his mouth hung open. "I—I didn't think—"
"That's right, you didn't think."
Beck's eyes flicked to the ground. "Do you know how hard it is to make a name for yourself when your father is a screw-up? How everyone talks about the screw-up's