A Shade of Vampire 81 A Bringer of Night - Bella Forrest Page 0,33

kind of fae? No, there were no signs of elemental powers here. The planet wouldn’t have died like this, had there been fae living here.

“Kelara, come over here, please,” Soul said, bringing me back to the grim reality of present-day Cruor. I crossed the town ruins to reach him. He stood before a stone plaque. His fingers were covered in dirt, as though he’d dug parts of it out from the ground. “I found this.”

“What is it?”

“Take a closer look.” He sighed. “I saw a corner poking out and recognized the symbol.”

Kneeling before the plaque, I felt my temperature drop—a strange sensation to experience, considering I no longer had a physical body. “Oh, there’s something hinky around here.”

Soul chuckled. “I knew you’d pick up on it. You’re highly receptive to death magic,” he reminded me.

“That’s what this was, then,” I murmured, adjusting to the chills that persisted deep inside me as I touched the stone plaque. Running my fingers across the engraved symbols, I gasped. “Oh, wow.”

“Does any of it look familiar?” he asked, sitting next to me.

I leaned forward for a closer look. Yes. I recognized some of the symbols. “It’s our Reaper language. Our runes.”

“Indeed. Do you know what it says?”

“Do you?” I asked, glancing at him.

He shot me a grin. “I might have an idea, but it’s your assessment I’m interested in.”

“Why? What makes me so special?”

Soul looked at the plaque again before settling his focus back on me. “How many times do I have to say it before it sinks in? You’re different. You might not be a First Tenner, but you are filled with wonders that other Reapers cannot even fathom,” he said. “And I want you to tap into that potential. I want you to find your limits.”

He wasn’t looking to flatter me, but weirdly enough, he’d done just that. One of the strangest and most dangerous of the remaining First Tenners, the Soul Crusher had become attached to me and my abilities, eager to help me tap into parts of myself I didn’t even know existed.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

Soul nudged my shoulder, then nodded at the plaque. “Tell me which runes you’re able to read.”

Leaning forward once more, I took a moment to analyze the symbols. “Touch… It says ‘touch’ right here,” I said, placing my finger on the rune. Something jolted me. Dark and powerful, it was like an intense power surge had suddenly coursed through my being. “Oh, snap!” I yelped, pulling my hand back. My finger tingled, and I was still buzzing from the electric currents that rushed through me.

“Don’t stop,” Soul said, taking my hand and pressing it against the symbol. As soon as my skin touched the rune again, I shook from my very core, and everything turned black.

Breathless, I found myself here, but not now. I wasn’t me anymore, either. I was seeing it all through someone else’s eyes. I could feel his horror, his fear, his desperation as he used a sharp metal instrument to carve these runes into the stone plaque.

Soul wasn’t with me. I was on my own, rushing to finish my message. But these weren’t my words. No, there was another presence inside this body. A tendril of pure night and cold silence, reaching out and gripping my consciousness, beckoning me to keep carving, to tell his story.

The urgency burned in my throat like a wildfire.

I heard screams. Turning around, I saw them—the former inhabitants of Cruor. Dark mist spread across the town, seeping into the skin of innocent people. Leaves and flowers were braided into their long, silky hair. They wore calfskins and delicate tulle-like fabrics wrapped around their slender, petite bodies. Their ears were pointed, their features soft. I’d seen creatures like this before, in ancient tales of folklore from Earth and other worlds from the Supernatural Dimensions.

Tears welled in my eyes as I watched the horror unfold.

The black mist was not… “Oh, God,” I managed, my blood running cold. I kept carving, forced by this interior power to complete the message. Someone would stumble upon this plaque someday, and the Night Bringer might see freedom again.

The people cried out. Some collapsed, their bodies convulsing and limbs twitching as the mist enveloped them and vanished, dissolving into their flesh. Moments went by in deafening silence as others drew close, desperate to get their friends, their siblings, their parents, their lovers out of the way as the cloud continued its merciless conquest.

The infected creatures opened their eyes—they were bloodshot. Fangs burst from