"He goes by 'Palmer' now, did you not know?" Valen said, rolling up his sleeves with a mischievous smile playing on his face.
Lilith's smirk faltered for a moment, her dark red eyes narrowing. "He's strong," she admitted, her voice tinged with reluctant admiration. "I can only see why mom dumped you if just one of these guys he created is this strong."
Elijah's crimson eyes flashed with irritation, his scar pulsing a bright red. "I will never lose to a 'wannabe'," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "He can never be like us, and that will be his downfall."
Dark sigils flared beneath his feet, spreading like wildfire until they surrounded the entire estate. Crimson energy crackled in the air like lightning, thick with tension enough to bring ordinary vampires to their knees. But Valen remained unfazed, his scarlet eyes glowing with quiet defiance.
"Let's see how long you'll last with that cocky expression," Elijah said, his lips curling into a cold smile.
Meanwhile, Palmer, Sarah, and Damien arrived at the Ashworth estate gate. The air was cold, heavy with an unspoken despair that clung to the surroundings like a shroud. Even without being told, they could feel it—something terrible had happened here.
"It's been a while, Palmer, Damien, Sarah," a familiar voice called out. A tall, poised man with dark hair approached, his expression a mix of relief and sorrow. It was Jasper, one of the Ashworth estate's most trusted guards. "I'll lower the barrier now so you can come through, Palmer."
"You don't have to worry, Jasper," Palmer said, his voice calm but tinged with unease. "This barrier has been laced with a binding spell. It's mixed with just enough dark magic to allow supernaturals to walk in and out freely without being affected by its purity." He stepped forward, placing one foot gently through the gate as if testing it. "And I am not an exception."
The guards gasped in shock, their eyes widening as Palmer passed through the barrier unharmed.
Damien and Sarah exchanged a glance, their faces darkening with anger. Why would the Church plot the demise of the people they swore to protect? What is their game?
"Well then, please follow me," Jasper said, his tone heavy as he led them into the estate. "It's been a while, you two. Sarah, Damien. I'm sorry we couldn't help after what happened to your parents. A message from the Church said that interference was prohibited. It's not that we abandoned you."
Sarah shook her head, her voice soft but firm. "It's okay, Sir Jasper. Sir Edward and Madam Elizabeth have always been like a parent to us since we were kids. That's already more than enough."
Jasper looked back at her, a faint smile touching his lips. "You've grown into a fine lady. At your age, you should be enjoying your youth to the fullest—falling in love, chasing dreams. But here you are, stuck in this cycle of generational conflict between two unparalleled worlds, trying to hold the balance for people who barely know you exist." He paused, his expression darkening. "The blessings from the gods were just a blindfold, hiding the curse from us. And now… we've even lost that blindfold. The curse is completely visible, and worse, it's coming after us all."
He gestured toward Elizabeth's room, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She's in there."
As Sarah, Damien, and Palmer walked toward the room, Jasper's voice stopped them. "Please," he said, his tone pleading, his fists clenched as if admitting his own weakness. "Help Madam Elizabeth."
The weight of his words struck them like a physical blow, a sharp pain piercing their hearts. They could feel Jasper's pain, his helplessness, and it only deepened their resolve.
"What about Sir Walter?" Damien asked, his voice trembling. He wore a mixed expression—part of him wanted to know, and part of him dreaded the answer. Walter had always been the one to welcome them whenever they visited their friend, Andrea Ashworth, to play. He was more than a guard; he was family.
Jasper bit his lip, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper. It was a toddler's sketch of Walter, one Damien had made years ago. "I found this in his pocket the night he was killed," Jasper said, his voice breaking.
The moment the words left his lips, the memory of the box in the underground building flashed in Damien's mind.
How many more will they take before you finally wake up?
The words echoed in his head, a haunting reminder of the stakes they faced.
His mind clouded with grief and anger, Damien clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
"Damien," Palmer called, his voice steady but firm. "She's waiting."
Damien snapped back to reality, swallowing the lump in his throat as they entered the room.
To their surprise, Elizabeth looked remarkably composed, her demeanor almost radiant. She stood up as they entered, her face lighting up with a warm smile.
"Oh my, my children," she said, pulling Sarah and Damien into a tight embrace. "You've both grown so much. What happened within these few years?"
They were taken aback by her cheerful demeanor, especially after hearing her voice on the phone. She had sounded so broken, so desperate. But here she was, bright and lively.
"Madam Elizabeth," Palmer said, his scarlet eyes narrowing slightly. "What happened? You sounded so worried on the phone, but here you are, looking… lively and bright."
Elizabeth waved a hand dismissively, her smile never wavering. "Nah, I knew the kids would come, and I didn't want them to see me looking pathetic. Besides, I can't sulk forever, and I know Ed wouldn't want to see me that way either."
Sarah and Damien exchanged a glance, relieved but still uneasy. They didn't want to press her, not when she had made such an effort to put on a brave face.
But Elizabeth's expression shifted, her smile fading as she grew serious. "I'm so sorry for worrying you," she said, her voice steady but heavy with emotion. "I know you're being considerate, but I need to tell you what happened before I relay Eddie and Walter's message to you—especially you, Palmer."