Chapter 14 The Blood Beast

The final lock clicked into place. A deep groan rolled through the corridor as the enormous bronze doors slowly parted, dust drifting down from the ancient hinges while a stream of cold air poured through the narrow opening.

It carried the scent of blood. Not fresh blood. Old blood, the kind that had soaked deep into stone over countless years and never fully washed out.

Jameson stepped back instinctively, his eyes never leaving the widening gap. The corridor fell silent, and then came the sound of slow and heavy footsteps. Each one sent a faint tremor through the floor beneath his feet.

Something was coming.

The silver-haired swordsman shifted his stance quietly, his hand resting on the hilt of his crimson blade though he made no move to draw it yet. A massive figure emerged from the darkness, and Jameson felt his breath catch in his throat.

The creature stood nearly twice the height of a man. Thick black fur covered its body, and dark crimson veins pulsed beneath its skin like something molten trying to escape. Jagged horns curved backward from its skull, and two long fangs hung against its lower jaw. Ancient iron chains still clung to its wrists, dragging across the stone with every step it took, the sound echoing down the passage like something out of a nightmare.

The beast stopped. Its crimson eyes found the swordsman first, and neither of them moved for several long seconds. Then, slowly, the creature turned its head, and its gaze landed on Jameson.

The corridor went unnaturally quiet.

The beast took one slow step closer, nostrils flaring once, then again. Jameson stayed rooted to the spot. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to listen. The creature closed the distance until only a few feet separated them, then lowered its massive head. Instead of baring its fangs, it simply inhaled, deep and slow, once and then twice, a low rumble building in its throat.

It circled him without any hurry at all, as though hunting for something that refused to make sense to it. Jameson turned slowly, keeping the beast in sight the whole time.

"What is it doing?" he asked quietly.

The swordsman didn't answer him.

The beast stopped behind Jameson, its warm breath brushing the back of his neck, and it drew in another deep breath. This time the rumble in its chest faded away entirely. It walked around him once more before finally coming to a stop directly in front of him, its crimson eyes locked on his face. Then its gaze drifted lower, down toward the scar on his wrist, down toward the blood moving beneath his skin.

For a brief moment the enormous beast went completely still. Even its breathing stopped. Jameson had the strange, unsettling feeling that it wasn't looking at him at all. It was looking through him, at something underneath.

The silence stretched on until the beast slowly lowered its head. The movement was small, barely noticeable, but it looked almost respectful, like a bow no one had asked for.

The swordsman's expression changed for the first time since Jameson had met him, his eyes narrowing sharply. "No," he murmured, so quiet Jameson almost missed it.

The beast jerked backward all at once. A violent growl tore up from deep inside its chest, and it shook its massive head as if trying to throw off a thought it didn't want. Its claws dug into the stone floor hard enough to send long cracks spreading beneath its feet, and the air around it grew heavy and charged.

Jameson stepped back on instinct. "What happened?"

No one answered him.

The beast let out another roar, and this one sounded different from the first. Not angry so much as pained, as if two separate instincts were tearing at each other somewhere inside it. Its gaze stayed locked on Jameson the entire time. Then something shifted. Whatever hesitation had been holding it back disappeared completely. Its muscles tensed, and the crimson veins running across its body flared bright, and whatever had made it pause a moment ago was simply gone now. Only the hunger remained.

Without warning, it lunged.

Jameson barely had time to react before a crimson flash tore across his vision. Steel met claw with a deafening crash, and the shockwave from the impact threw him several feet across the stone floor. He caught himself against a pillar and looked up in time to see the silver-haired swordsman standing between him and the beast, his crimson sword holding back a claw large enough to crush a man flat.

Neither of them gave an inch. The beast snarled, and the swordsman's face stayed calm through all of it. For several heartbeats neither side moved, locked together like they'd done this exact thing a hundred times before, like they already knew each other's every move.

Then the beast threw its full weight forward, and the corridor shook violently under the force of it. Cracks raced out across the ancient floor in every direction. The swordsman drew a deeper breath and tightened his grip on the blade, bracing himself against the pressure bearing down on him.

Jameson watched all of it in stunned silence. He'd spent his whole life serving vampires, believing he understood what real strength looked like. Standing here now, watching these two beings clash, he realized every noble he'd ever known suddenly looked small and ordinary by comparison.

The beast roared again, the sound shaking dust loose from the ceiling above them.

The swordsman took his first step forward.

And somewhere beneath the mountain, an old battle no one alive remembered had just begun again.