Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (universal ebook reader txt) 📗

stared in awe for half a beat. Then, before the barrier became solid again, I hurried through as though it was a closing elevator door. Breathing out once on the other side, I steeled myself and moved forward.

The passage opened into a small circular room like the base of a tower. I couldn’t see up, the candlelight not powerful enough, but the beam hit the dark surface of the water, which rippled when I swished forward. I watched the ripples undulate toward the candle itself... and detour around something erected in the center of the space.

Moving farther into the room, I stared at a pedestal on which the single thin white candle sat, propped upright in a tarnished, golden candle holder. I reached out to pick it up and bring it with me to better inspect the outer edges of the flooded room and hesitated.

What if moving it triggered a tripwire?

Never leave evidence that you were there.

Leaving the candle where it was, I willed the flame to be brighter. As I watched, it flared, the halo it cast light upon expanding. Quickly, I spun, taking in the damp, gray stone walls of the room... and the single bed pressed up against it.

It was a rudimentary old cot with a raggedy, bare mattress that leaked stuffing and springs through various holes in the surface. The simple metal frame had legs just tall enough that the mattress hovered about an inch over the water level. There was something lumpy on the mattress — someone — who was breathing with faint rises and falls and an audible wheeze. 

I squinted, moving forward, heart in my throat, the fingers of one hand twisting the ring on the other. “Mom?” I whispered.

With a clang, a door slammed open overhead, revealing a rectangle of light that pierced the inky darkness about twenty feet above the bed.

I shrank back against the opposite wall, watching the candle flame return to its normal, dull luminosity as a metal ladder dropped to the floor with a loud thump. It creaked as someone descended, and I went still, watching with wide eyes as a man skipped the last several rungs and slid to the floor with a splash.

He rounded the bed, and before I could even try to make out anything about him, he lifted a hand and slapped the form on the bed.

A faint whimper rose from the lump. I bit back a gasp of outrage.

“Up and at ‘em. We’ve got a task for you.”

The response was a faint moan.

“Come on.” He shoved the lump roughly.

It didn’t move. A faint voice slithered out of the darkness. “Need more strength. Can’t.”

“You’ve had an hour to rest. It’s time.”

“Can’t,” the woman repeated in a croak — but louder.

“You will. Or else.” The threat thundered through the room, whipping around the circular space. The man bent over and hauled the woman over his shoulder.

Long, dull, silverish hair hung down the man’s back.

Mom.

No, I couldn’t let him take her. Panicked, I surged forward. Pretending like he was Raven — or Cole, which was more his shape — I broke into a run and leaped, kicking out a foot for the back of his knee to drive him to the floor.

My foot sailed right through his leg, and I splashed to the ground.

Why hadn’t that worked? I’d believed he was solid, the reverse of what I’d done with the grate. Maybe I could only influence how I interacted with objects in visions — not people. Just enough to let me view the vision, not alter the circumstances or actions in any way.

Pulling myself up, dripping and smelly, I glared, hatred curling my fists. The ring dug into my skin. “You’ll pay for this,” I told the man, knowing now that he couldn’t hear me. “I’ll come for her, and you’ll regret it.”

The woman’s head lifted as the vamp started to ascend the ladder. Her eyelids drooped. Her pallor was blueish, and dried blood was crusted on her face, which must have leaked afresh after the vamp licked her face in my other vision. “Aria. Bermuda.”

Shocked by the rasped words, I gasped, and the scene sucked away from me, folding into itself.

I surged upright, nearly clocking Gunhilde and Torgny, who’d been leaning over me again.

“They have her!” I leapt from the bed, rushing around to gather the measly items the police hadn’t confiscated from me. “They have my mom!”

I meant what I said. Those damn vamps would pay.

“What happened? You saw her? Did you see where she is? Who has her?” Gunhilde sounded as wrathful as I felt.

“Yes,” I said shortly. “Bermuda. The vamps are keeping her captive in Bermuda.” In the worst, shittiest accommodations.

Hope you’re ready for some payback, you unnaturals.

I paused there, head tilting. “Huh. Seke said the vampires must have gone underground to avoid being taken out by the vampire-slayer teams or whatever they were called, but I wouldn’t have expected the Caribbean.” I puzzled over the mental image of the dickwad manhandling my mom, who I imagined looked like Tony Druid-Killer, clinking fruity cocktails with little umbrellas while sitting on a lounge chair on a sunny beach.

“Bermuda Triangle,” Torgny said, and it all clicked.

Vampires fed on humans. What better place to go unnoticed? You could steal all of the humans you wanted for blood, and everyone would chalk it up to the mysterious legend. Tony had said the other faction kept banshees around to make sure they didn’t completely drain any of their blood sources and end up drawing in an HD unit.

“Well, guess I’m going to Bermuda,” I vowed in a growl, heading for the door without waiting for Gunhilde or Torgny to keep up, “I’m going to make sure that at least one victim of the Bermuda Triangle doesn’t remain missing. I found her, and now, I’m going to get her.” I wrenched open the door and stepped out.

I pivoted when I reached the parking lot, the parked vehicles before me knocking some logic into my brain. I