CHAPTER 12
The Ritual of Reversal
The world seemed to stand still.
Katalin stood there, ten meters away, dressed in an elegant black gown as if she were on her way to a gala. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, her face timelessly beautiful—and utterly devoid of emotion.
“Mother,” Helena whispered.
“Daughter.” Katalin’s voice was gentle, almost affectionate. “How lovely to see you again. Under… better circumstances.”
“What do you mean by ‘Helena for the key’?” Erik’s voice was sharper than he intended.
“Exactly what I say.” Katalin stepped closer, her movements fluid, hypnotic. “You give me the Soul Key. In return, I give you the three babies. And Helena comes with me.”
“This is madness,” Marcus said from his hiding place. “Helena isn’t merchandise!”
“But the key is?” Katalin smiled. “Interesting priorities you hunters have.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Helena said. Her hand moved toward her weapon on the ground.
“Don’t.” Katalin’s eyes suddenly flared, glowing an intense red. “Touch the weapon and the priest dies. Then the others. And then you.”
Helena’s hand froze.
“Good.” Katalin relaxed again. “You see, I’m not here to kill. On the contrary. I’m here to save lives. Three small lives. All I’m asking for is a conversation. With my daughter. In private.”
“A conversation,” Helena repeated skeptically. “That’s all?”
“That’s all. No coercion. No transformation. Just a conversation between mother and daughter.” Katalin raised her hands, palms open. “After that, you’re free to go. If you want.”
“And the key?”
“Stays with me. As… insurance.” Katalin glanced at Erik. “But don’t worry, young bearer. I’ll treat it well. Like a member of my family.”
“The key isn’t a person,” Erik said.
“Are you sure?” Katalin’s smile turned enigmatic. “You feel its heart beating. You sense its will. How is that different from a person?”
Erik had no answer.
“Helena, don’t do this,” Thomas said, his voice weak from the blow. “She’s manipulating you.”
“Of course I am,” Katalin said bluntly. “Manipulation is my craft. But that doesn’t make my offer any less real. Three babies. For a conversation and an old piece of metal.”
“And if Helena says no?” Erik asked.
“Then we all go home empty-handed. You without the babies. I without the key or my daughter.” Katalin shrugged. “But the babies stay with me. And in seven months, at the summer solstice, they’ll become part of something greater. Something wonderful.”
“Something terrible,” Helena corrected.
“That’s a matter of perspective.” Katalin stepped even closer, now only five meters away. “Helena, my love, I know you’re afraid. Afraid of me, afraid of what I am. But I’m still your mother. I carried you for nine months. I gave birth to you. That bond cannot be broken.”
“You gave me away.”
“Because I thought it would be better for you. A normal life, without the burden of knowledge.” Katalin’s eyes softened—or she pretended they did. “But now you’re here. You know the truth. And I’m giving you the chance to understand it fully.”
Helena was silent for a long time. Erik could see her struggle, torn between duty and curiosity, between hatred and something else.
“One hour,” Helena said at last. “You get one hour. And the babies are handed over first.”
“Helena, no!” Marcus’s voice was sharp. “This is—”
“My decision,” Helena cut in. She looked at Erik. “The key stays with you. Don’t give it to her.”
“But—”
“That’s an order.” Helena’s eyes were steady. “Keep it. Protect it. No matter the cost.”
Erik nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her words.
Katalin smiled triumphantly. “A wise decision, daughter. Dimitri?”
Dimitri stepped forward, speaking quietly into a radio. Minutes later, two more vampires appeared, carrying three infant carriers.
They set them down in the middle of the square, ten meters from Erik.
“The babies,” Katalin said. “As promised. Unharmed.”
Marcus emerged from the darkness, cautiously, his weapon still trained on the vampires. He checked each carrier.
“They’re alive,” he confirmed tensely. “But they’re still infected. The wounds are there.”
“Of course they’re still infected,” Katalin said. “The reversal ritual still needs to be performed. But they’re alive. That was the deal.”
“You said they were cured!”
“I said they were unharmed. And they are. No new injuries, no additional suffering.” Katalin’s voice grew colder. “If you expected more, that was your misunderstanding.”
“That’s fraud!”
“That’s negotiation.” Katalin turned to Helena. “Now, shall we? Or must we stand here in the cold any longer?”
Helena looked at Thomas, who had now been released by the vampire and had collapsed to the ground. Then at Marcus, who drew the babies protectively toward himself. And finally at Erik.
“Take care of them,” she said softly. “All of them.”
“Helena—”
“Promise me.”
Erik nodded, too tense to speak.
Helena walked over to Katalin. Mother and daughter stood facing each other, two mirror images from different times.
“No tricks,” Helena said. “One hour. Then you let me go.”
“No tricks,” Katalin confirmed. She held out her hand.
After a long moment, Helena took it.
“Valentina, Dimitri—come with me. The others, stay and… observe.” Katalin smiled at Erik. “We’ll see each other again soon, bearer. I hope you use this time wisely.”
They vanished. Just like that. Helena, Katalin, Dimitri, and Valentina dissolved into the shadows, too fast for the eye to follow.
Left behind were Erik, Thomas, Marcus, the three babies, and half a dozen vampires watching them from the darkness.
“What now?” Erik whispered.
“Now,” Marcus said, carefully lifting the infant carriers, “we take these children home. And pray that Helena knows what she’s doing.”
The drive back to headquarters was tense.
Marcus drove with the three infant carriers in the back. Thomas sat in the front, holding his head wound. Erik, in the passenger seat, clutched the Soul Key and watched the streets behind them.
“They’re not following us,” Marcus said after a few minutes. “At least not obviously.”
“Katalin has what she wants,” Thomas murmured. “Helena.”
“But not the key,” Erik said, looking down at the artifact. “Why didn’t she insist on it?”
“Because she’s buying time,” Marcus said. “One hour with Helena. What can she do in an hour?”
“Convince. Manipulate. Sow doubt.” Thomas’s voice was weak. “Katalin is centuries old. She knows how to break people. Not through violence, but through words.”
“Helena is strong.”
“Is she?” Thomas looked at Erik. “She just found out that her mother is the source of all evil. That her entire life was a lie. How strong can anyone be under that weight?”
Erik had no answer.
They reached headquarters. Yuki was already waiting, pale and nervous.
“I saw everything,” she said as they got out. “The cameras… Helena went with her voluntarily.”
“She had no choice,” Marcus said, carrying the infant carriers inside. “Where do we take them?”
“The medical room. I’ve prepared everything for the rituals.” Yuki looked at the babies, her face softening. “The poor things. How bad is it?”
“Bad,” Thomas said, following unsteadily. “We need to begin immediately. The longer we wait, the stronger the darkness becomes.”
They carried the babies into a room Erik had never seen before. It was larger than the others, outfitted like a small hospital room, but with additions—candles in the corners, chalk circles on the floor, shelves full of occult artifacts.
“Three rituals, one after another,” Thomas said, beginning to prepare the tools. “We need to be fast.”
“Can we do this without Helena?” Yuki asked.
“We have to.” Thomas looked at Erik. “You saved Lukas and Sophie. You can save these too.”
“But I was exhausted after just one ritual. Three—”
“Will almost kill you, yes.” Thomas’s smile was sad. “But almost isn’t quite. You’re young. You’re strong. You’ll survive.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then these children die.” Thomas’s words were harsh, but honest. “Choice is an illusion, Erik. Sometimes there is only duty.”
Erik took a deep breath. “Then let’s begin.”
The first ritual was for baby Leon Müller. Four weeks old, first infection two weeks ago.
Erik followed the familiar sequence. The mother’s blood—Mrs. Müller was at headquarters, brought in by Marcus. The child’s blood. His own blood.
The glowing water. The blessing. And then the Soul Key.
Erik called the light. It came more easily this time, as if the key had learned to obey him.
The darkness seeped out of Leon. Black, oily, vile. It writhed, tried to escape, but the light held it fast.
Let us go, whispered the darkness. He belongs to us.
“No,” Erik forced out.
You are weak. You cannot save three. You will fail.
“I will not fail.”
The light intensified. The darkness screamed—a high, piercing sound that hurt physically—and then disintegrated into smoke.
Leon breathed. Normally. Human.
The first ritual was complete.
Erik collapsed into a chair, drenched in sweat, trembling.
“Drink this.” Yuki handed him a bottle of water. “You need fluids. And this.” A pill.
“What is it?”
“Multivitamins. And a mild stimulant. To keep you awake.” Yuki’s face was worried. “Erik, are you sure you can continue?”
“I have to.” Erik drank, swallowed the pill. “How much time has passed?”
“Twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes. That meant Helena had been with Katalin for nearly half an hour.
What’s happening there?
“Next baby,” Thomas said. “Emma Schneider. Six weeks old. First infection three weeks ago.”
Emma was worse. The transformation was further along. The wounds deeper, the skin paler.
The ritual began. Blood, blessing, key.
But this time the darkness resisted more fiercely.
It didn’t seep out of Emma—it poured out. Black and massive, filling the room with cold.
Erik raised the key higher, called more light.
But it wasn’t enough.
The darkness began to surround him, to close in.
You are exhausted, it whispered. Your strength is fading. Let go. Rest.
“No!”
You cannot save them all. Choose. This child or the next. But not both.
“I will save both!”
Erik pushed with everything he had. The light from the key exploded, brighter than ever before.
Too bright.
Erik screamed. The pain was unbearable, as if the key were burning him from the inside.
But the darkness shattered. Splintered into a thousand pieces and dissolved.
Emma breathed.
Erik collapsed to the floor.
“Erik!” Yuki and Thomas rushed to him.
“I… I’m okay,” Erik gasped. “Just… just tired.”
“Too tired.” Thomas felt his pulse. “Your heart is racing. You have to stop.”
“One baby left. Just one more.” Erik tried to stand, fell back. “I can do it.”
“You will die.”
“Then I’ll die.” Erik met Thomas’s eyes. “But I won’t give up. Not now.”
Thomas was silent for a long time. Then he nodded. “Your choice. But if it becomes too much, if you feel the key taking over—stop. Immediately.”
“I promise.”
The third baby. The Wagner baby—they hadn’t given it a name yet.
The youngest. Only three weeks old. But the transformation was the most advanced.
“Why?” Erik asked as Thomas prepared the ritual. “Why is this baby the worst?”
“Because it was bitten first,” Thomas answered. “Almost four weeks ago. It had the most time to absorb the darkness.”
“Can we save it?”
“I don’t know. But we have to try.”
The ritual began.
And immediately Erik knew: this was different.
The darkness in this baby wasn’t just stronger. It was smarter. More aware.
As the consecrated water flowed over the baby’s forehead, its eyes opened.
Red. Glowing red.
And it smiled.
“That’s not good,” Yuki murmured.
Erik raised the key. Called the light.
But the darkness didn’t come out.
Instead, it withdrew. Deeper into the baby. Hiding.
“It’s fleeing,” Thomas said. “It knows it can be defeated, so it’s hiding.”
“What do we do?”
“You have to go in.” Thomas’s eyes were grave. “Into the child. With the key. Follow the darkness where it hides.”
“In? How?”
“The key opens doors. Not just physical ones. Spiritual ones too.” Thomas placed a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “But be warned: if you go in, you could lose yourself. The darkness will try to trap you, make you part of it.”
“And if I don’t go?”
“Then the baby dies. Slowly. Over days. It becomes something neither human nor vampire. An abomination.”
Erik looked at the baby. So small. So helpless.
“Show me how.”
Thomas guided him through the steps. Erik had to press the key to the baby’s forehead. Close his eyes. Breathe. Synchronize with the pulsing of the key.
And then… let go.
Erik did.
The world blurred.
He was no longer in the room.
He was… somewhere else.
Dark. So dark he couldn’t see his own hand.
But the key glowed. A small point of light in the endless black.
“Hello?” Erik’s voice echoed, strangely distorted.
No answer.
He moved forward. Or thought he did. There was no direction here.
Then, from the darkness: a figure.
Small. Child-sized.
No. Baby-sized.
It was the Wagner baby. But… different. It stood upright, impossible for a three-week-old child. Its eyes glowed red, but with far more intelligence than they should have.
“You came,” the baby said. The voice was not a baby’s. It was old. Ancient. “How brave. How foolish.”
“Who are you?” Erik asked.
“I am the darkness. I am what remains when the light goes out.” The baby smiled, showing tiny sharp teeth. “I am the end.”
“You’re a parasite. And I’m going to remove you.”
“Will you?” The baby laughed. “Look around you, bearer. You are in my world. Here, I have the power.”
The darkness began to move. To grow. It rose around Erik, forming walls, then a ceiling. A cage of shadows.
“You are trapped,” the baby said. “Just like all before you who tried to fight me.”
“All?” Erik’s heart sank. “You mean other bearers of the key?”
“Oh yes. So many. Over the centuries.” The darkness flickered, showing images. Faces. People who carried the key, who entered the darkness and never returned. “You will be the next. Your soul will join the collection.”
“No.” Erik raised the key. The light pulsed. “I’m not like them.”
“Really? What makes you so special?”
“I…” Erik hesitated. What did make him special? He wasn’t a hero. Not a great warrior. Just a man in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Or the right place at the right time.
“I have people counting on me,” Erik said finally. “Helena. Marcus. Thomas. Yuki. The families of these children.” He stepped closer to the baby. “And this baby has parents who love it. Who want it to live. Live normally.”
“Love.” The darkness laughed. “What is love against eternity?”
“Everything.” Erik’s voice grew firm. “Love is why we fight. Why we don’t give up. Why I won’t give up.”
He pressed the key against the baby.
The light exploded.
The darkness screamed, tried to retreat, but there was nowhere to go.
Erik felt the key grow hot in his hand. Too hot. Almost unbearable.
But he didn’t let go.
“For the baby,” he whispered. “For all of them.”
The light became blinding. The darkness began to crack, to shatter.
“You… you cannot destroy me,” the darkness stammered. “I am eternal! I am—”
“You are nothing,” Erik pressed harder. “And now you’re gone.”
A final scream. Then silence.
The darkness was gone.
Erik opened his eyes.
He was back in the room. Lying on the floor. The key still in his hand, now cold.
Thomas and Yuki bent over him.
“Erik? Can you hear me?”
“I… yes.” Erik sat up, every movement painful. “The baby?”
Thomas gestured toward the crib.
The Wagner baby lay there, sleeping peacefully. The wounds on its neck were gone. Its skin had color. Its tiny chest rose and fell with the rhythm of normal breathing.
“You did it,” Yuki whispered. Tears streamed down her face. “All three. You saved them all.”
Erik smiled weakly. Then everything went black.
When he woke again, he was in one of the rest rooms.
How long he had been unconscious, he didn’t know.
The door opened. Marcus came in.
“You’re awake. Good.” Marcus sat down on a chair. “You were out for four hours. We thought you’d killed yourself.”
“The babies?”
“All stable. Healed. Their families are with them.” Marcus smiled faintly. “You’re one hell of a hero, rookie.”
“I don’t feel like a hero.” Erik tried to sit up, waved it off. “Helena? Is she back?”
Marcus’s smile vanished. “No.”
“How long has it been?”
“Since she went with Katalin? Five hours.”
“But the deal was one hour!”
“I know.” Marcus rubbed his face. “We tried to track her, but the transmitter is dead. Either found and destroyed, or…” He left the sentence unfinished.
“We have to find her!”
“And where do we look?” Marcus’s frustration was clear. “Munich is huge. The catacombs are a labyrinth. We have no idea where Katalin took her.”
“Then we ask someone who knows.” Erik stood up, ignoring the dizziness. “Dimitri. He was there.”
“Dimitri won’t talk to us.”
“Maybe he will. If we offer the right thing.” Erik reached for the Soul Key lying on a bedside table. “He wants this. They all want it.”
“You want to offer yourself as bait again? After what just happened?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Marcus was silent.
“Exactly.” Erik headed for the door. “Call the team. We’re bringing Helena back.”
“And if she doesn’t want to come back?” The question hung in the air, too big, too frightening.
“Then we convince her,” Erik said simply. “The way she convinced us.”
He left the room, the key clenched tightly in his hand.
Helena had saved him. Had given him a chance.
Now it was time for him to do the same for her.
CHAPTER 13
The Trap
The conference room was tense when Erik entered.
Thomas sat at the table, a fresh bandage wrapped around his head. Yuki was typing feverishly on her laptop. Marcus leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his face a mask of worry and anger.
“Four hours without any sign of life,” Yuki said without looking up. “Her tracker is definitely dead. Phone switched off. No activity on her credit cards or accounts.”
“She’s either being held captive or hiding,” Thomas said quietly. “Or—”
“Don’t say it,” Marcus cut in sharply. “Don’t say she joined them.”
“I’m just saying it’s a possibility. Katalin is her mother. Dimitri is her brother.” Thomas’s voice was gentle but firm. “Family bonds are strong. Even among the strongest of us.”
“Helena would never betray us.” Marcus’s hands clenched into fists. “She’s spent her entire life fighting those monsters.”
“But she’s also spent her entire life longing for a family,” Thomas countered. “For connection. Belonging. Katalin offers her exactly that.”
“Through lies and manipulation!”
“Perhaps. But effective lies.” Thomas looked at Erik. “You were with her when she confronted Katalin. What was she like? What did you see?”
Erik thought back to the moment in the gallery. Helena’s trembling hand. The tears in her eyes. The longing mixed with hatred.
“She was torn,” he said at last. “But in the end, she pulled the trigger. She chose us.”
“In the end, yes. But after five hours alone with Katalin?” Thomas shook his head. “People change, Erik. Especially under emotional pressure.”
“Then we find her before it’s too late.” Erik placed the Soul Key on the table. “Marcus was right—we use this as bait. Dimitri wants it. We lure him out, force him to tell us where Helena is.”
“And if he lies to us?” Yuki asked.
“Then we follow him. Track him. He’ll return to Katalin sooner or later.” Erik looked at each of them. “We don’t have any other choice.”
“Actually,” came a new voice from the doorway, “you might.”
Everyone turned.
Anna Berger stood there, Lukas in her arms. Behind her were Mrs. Hartmann with Sophie and Mrs. Özkan with Ayşe.
“What are you doing here?” Marcus asked. “You’re supposed to stay in your rooms.”
“We couldn’t,” Anna said, stepping inside. “We heard what happened. Dr. Konstantin is gone. Because of us. Because of our children.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“But we can help.” Anna approached the table. “Before you found us, before you performed the rituals—the vampires who bit our babies. They sometimes talked. To each other. They thought we wouldn’t listen or understand.”
“What did they say?” Erik asked, intrigued.
“Places. Names.” Anna looked at the other mothers. “Mrs. Hartmann, you tell them.”
The older woman stepped forward. “The vampire who came into my house—the woman, Valentina. She was on the phone once, when she thought I was unconscious. She said something about ‘the gathering beneath the old church.’ I assumed she meant a church here in Munich.”
“Which church?” Yuki asked, already typing.
“She didn’t name it. But she said it was in the old town. And that it was deep. Very deep.”
“The catacombs beneath St. Peter’s Church,” Thomas said immediately. “That fits. St. Peter’s is Munich’s oldest church. Eleventh century. And the catacombs underneath are a labyrinth.”
“I’ve been there once on a tour,” Yuki said. “But the public areas are small. Maybe fifty meters of tunnels.”
“The public areas, yes. But there’s more.” Thomas stood and walked to the map of Munich. “The old town sits on a network of medieval tunnels. Some are mapped, most aren’t. Beneath St. Peter’s there are rumors of an ancient temple. Pre-Roman. A place of power.”
“A perfect place for vampires to hide,” Marcus muttered.
“Or to prepare a ritual,” Erik added. “Yuki, is St. Peter’s on one of the ley lines?”
Yuki checked her maps. “Yes. In fact, it’s right where two lines intersect. A nexus.”
“Then that’s our destination.” Erik felt a mix of fear and resolve. “We go in. We find Helena. We bring her back.”
“That’s suicide,” Marcus said flatly. “If Katalin is there, if the entire council is there—we’re four against dozens of vampires.”
“Five,” came a weak voice.
Everyone turned to the door.
Mrs. Wagner stood there. The police officer’s wife. The mother of the third rescued baby. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were steady.
“My husband,” she said quietly. “He’s in a coma because of those monsters. My son would be dead without you. If there’s a chance to fight, to help…” She stepped inside. “I’m in.”
“You’re not a fighter,” Marcus said gently.
“No. But I’m a nurse. I know anatomy, first aid, how to keep people alive.” Mrs. Wagner’s voice grew firmer. “You’ll need medical support. I’m offering it.”
Erik looked at the other mothers. “And you? Do you want to help too?”
Anna nodded. “We owe Dr. Konstantin our lives. Our children’s lives. We can’t ignore that.”
“This is too dangerous,” Thomas began.
“Everything we’ve lived through in the last few weeks was dangerous,” Anna interrupted. “We’re not going to stay here and wait anyway. Better to do something useful.”
Marcus looked at Erik, then at Thomas. A silent exchange. Finally, he sighed.
“All right. But you stay as backup. No direct confrontation. Support only.” He went to a cabinet and opened it. Inside: radios, first-aid kits, UV flashlights. “We gear you up. And you follow our orders. Understood?”
The women nodded.
“Good.” Marcus began handing out equipment. “Then we prepare. We move out in one hour.”
The preparations passed in tense silence.
Erik practiced again with the Soul Key, trying to ignore his exhaustion. His body still ached from the three rituals, but there was no time to rest.
“You shouldn’t go,” Yuki said quietly. She had joined him in the training room. “Your body needs recovery. If you use the key again so soon after the rituals—”
“I know. I risk losing my soul.” Erik let the key’s light flare briefly, controlled, then fade. “But I can’t abandon Helena.”
“Helena would want you safe.”
“Helena would do the same for me. For any of us.” Erik looked at her. “You’ll stay here and coordinate from headquarters?”
“Yes. Someone has to handle surveillance, monitor the cameras.” Yuki hesitated. “Erik, if you… if you don’t come back. What should I do with the key?”
“Destroy it.”
“What?”
“If I don’t come back, if Katalin gets me and the key—destroy it. However necessary. Melt it down, throw it into the sea, whatever.” Erik’s voice was firm. “The council must not have it.”
“I don’t know how to destroy a mystical key.”
“Then improvise.” Erik tried to smile. “You’re good at that.”
Yuki didn’t smile back. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
“I promise to try.”
At 11:00 p.m., they gathered in the garage.
Two teams. The first: Marcus, Thomas, and Erik, who would go directly into the catacombs. The second: the three mothers and Mrs. Wagner, serving as backup and medical support.
“Channel three for the first team, channel four for backup,” Yuki explained, handing out radios. “I’m on both channels. If anything goes wrong, call immediately.”
“Weapons?” Marcus checked his pistol, loading it with silver bullets.
“For the first team: pistols, knives, UV lamps, holy water, banishment chalk.” Thomas packed his gear into a backpack. “For backup: tasers, UV flashlights, first-aid kits.”
“And the key.” Erik secured it on a chain around his neck, tucked it beneath his shirt. “Always with me.”
They drove in two cars. The old town was surprisingly lively for a late November night—tourists, locals, remnants of nightlife. St. Peter’s Church towered over Marienplatz, its Gothic silhouette dark against the cloudy sky.
“The public entrance to the catacombs is closed,” Marcus said, parking in a side street. “But I know another way.”
He led them to an unassuming building next to the church. An old bakery, closed for years. Marcus pulled out a lock pick and opened the back door.
“When did you learn that?” Erik asked.
“Police academy. Before I joined the night watch.” Marcus grinned briefly. “You pick up useful skills.”
They went inside. The bakery interior was dusty, abandoned. Marcus moved straight to a trapdoor in the floor, half-hidden by old shelves.
“Here.” He opened it. Beneath was a stone staircase leading down. “This tunnel was used as an air-raid shelter in World War II. It connects several buildings in the old town—including the catacombs beneath the church.”
“How do you know this?” Thomas asked.
“Helena showed me. Years ago, when we first explored the catacombs.” Marcus’s voice softened. “She knew every hidden path in this city.”
They descended. The air grew colder, damper. The stone steps were steep, worn smooth by centuries of use.
At the bottom: a tunnel. Low, narrow, lit only by their flashlights.
“The backup team stays here,” Marcus ordered. “If we’re not back in ten minutes, call for reinforcements.”
“What reinforcements?” Anna asked. “The police wouldn’t believe us.”
“Then improvise.” Marcus handed her a radio. “Yuki will tell you what to do.”
They moved on, leaving the mothers behind. The tunnel stretched for a hundred meters, then branched.
“Left,” Thomas said. “I feel something. A presence.”
“Vampires?”
“Maybe. Or something older.” Thomas’s hand went to his crucifix. “Stay alert.”
They took the left tunnel. It sloped downward, deeper. The walls grew rougher, less worked. No modern construction here. This was old. Very old.
After another fifty meters, the tunnel opened into a chamber.
And there, on the walls: symbols. Carved into the stone. Not Christian. Not Roman. Something far older.
“Celtic,” Thomas whispered in awe. “This is a pre-Roman temple. I’ve read about it, but I thought it was a legend.”
“Legends are often true,” Marcus muttered. “Especially in our world.”
In the center of the chamber stood an altar. Solid stone, stained with dried blood.
And behind it: a door. Closed. Wood and iron, etched with symbols that glowed faintly in the light of their lamps.
“That’s it,” Erik said. “Behind that door. They’re there.”
“How can you know?” Marcus asked.
Erik touched the key beneath his shirt. It pulsed—hot, urgent. “The key knows. It feels… something. A resonance.”
Thomas stepped up to the door, examining the symbols. “It’s a barrier. Magically sealed. Only someone with the right permission can open it.”
“Or someone with the Soul Key,” Erik said, drawing the artifact out.
It flared brightly as he approached the door.
“Erik, wait—” Marcus began.
But Erik pressed the key against the door.
Light exploded. The symbols blazed, bright and intense. Then, with a deep crack, the door swung open.
Beyond it: darkness. Absolute darkness that seemed to swallow their flashlights.
And from that darkness: a voice.
“Welcome, bearer. We’ve been waiting for you.”
It was Katalin’s voice.
Erik’s heart hammered. But he stepped forward, through the door.
Marcus and Thomas followed.
The darkness swallowed them.
As their eyes adjusted, they saw where they were.
A vast chamber. Larger than anything Erik had expected. The ceiling was high, lost in shadow. The walls were covered in more symbols, more carvings, some faintly glowing with their own light.
And in the center: a circle. Drawn with something that was not chalk.
Blood, Erik realized with growing horror.
Inside the circle: three cribs. And within them—
“The babies,” Thomas whispered, horrified.
The Wagner, Müller, and Schneider babies. The three taken by the council.
But they looked different. Their skin was gray. When their eyes opened, they glowed red. They were no longer half-transformed.
They were fully transformed.
“No,” Erik gasped. “We saved them. We performed the rituals!”
“You saved the wrong babies,” Katalin said.
She stepped out of the shadows, elegantly dressed in a blood-red gown. Her eyes glowed.
“What?” Marcus raised his pistol.
“The babies I gave you were decoys. Other children, similar age, similar appearance. From orphanages. No one would miss them.” Katalin’s smile was cold. “You were so desperate to save them that you didn’t check. No DNA tests. No verification. Just hope.”
“You bitch,” Marcus hissed, aiming.
“Don’t shoot.” A new voice. Familiar. Painfully familiar.
Helena stepped out beside Katalin.
But it was not the Helena Erik knew.
She wore a black dress, similar to Katalin’s. Her hair fell loose in dark waves over her shoulders. And her eyes—
Her eyes glowed red.
“Helena?” Erik’s voice broke. “What did they do to you?”
“They did nothing to me.” Helena’s voice was calm, almost serene. “They showed me the truth. My true heritage. My true family.”
“No. That’s not true. They manipulated you—”
“They freed me.” Helena stepped closer, stopping at the edge of the blood circle. “For years I fought against my nature. Against what I am. But Mother helped me understand.”
“She’s not your mother!” Marcus shouted. “She’s a monster!”
“She’s both.” Helena smiled—and it was the smile of a predator. “And now, so am I.”
Erik felt his world collapse. “You’re not turned. I don’t see any bite marks.”
“Because I drank willingly.” Helena raised her hand, showing her wrist. There, barely visible, was a small scar. “From the Chalice of Eternity. The blood of the Elders, mixed with my own. No bite required.”
“That’s impossible,” Thomas stammered. “The transformation takes days. Weeks.”
“For normal humans, yes. But I’m not normal.” Helena’s eyes met Erik’s. “I’m Katalin’s daughter. Her blood was already in me. It only needed… activation.”
“Helena, please.” Erik stepped closer, ignoring the warning in Marcus’s eyes. “This isn’t you. Fight it. I know you’re still in there.”
“I am here. Clearer than ever.” Helena’s voice softened. “Erik, I’m not your enemy. I’m still me. Just… better. Stronger. Without the doubts. Without the fear.”
“Without humanity.”
“Humanity only made me weak.” Helena shook her head. “But now I understand. Mother was right. The transformation isn’t destruction. It’s evolution.”
“It’s damnation!” Thomas stepped forward, holding up his crucifix.
Helena didn’t flinch. The crucifix had no effect.
“Interesting,” she said softly. “I thought that would hurt. But I feel… nothing.”
“Because you’re too new,” Katalin explained, placing a hand on Helena’s shoulder—a maternal gesture. “The old symbols need time to take effect. In a few days you’ll feel them. But they won’t destroy you. Just… inconvenience you.”
“Then we still have time!” Erik turned to Helena. “Listen, we can reverse this. The ritual we used on the babies—we can use it on you. You’ve only been turned for hours. It’s not too late!”
“But I don’t want to reverse it.” Helena’s eyes hardened. “Don’t you understand? I chose this. Willingly. No manipulation. No coercion. I saw what Mother offered me, and I accepted it.”
“What she offers you is death!” Marcus’s voice echoed through the chamber. “Death and darkness!”
“She offers me eternal life. Power. And a family.” Helena looked at Katalin, then at Dimitri, who had stepped out of the shadows. “My real family. Not the lies I grew up with.”
“We were your family!” Erik felt tears in his eyes. “The Night Watch. Thomas, Marcus, Yuki. Me. We fought together, suffered together, won together.”
“And I’ll always be grateful to you.” Helena’s voice softened. “That’s why I’m offering you a chance. Join me. All of you. Drink from the chalice. Become like me. And together, we can change the world.”
“We’d rather die,” Thomas said flatly.
“That,” Katalin said, “can be arranged.”
She snapped her fingers.
They emerged from the shadows. Vampires. Dozens of them. Surrounding Erik, Marcus, and Thomas.
“But that would be a waste,” Katalin continued. “You’re capable. Strong. You could be valuable additions to the council.”
“Never,” Marcus spat.
“Pity.” Katalin sighed theatrically. “Then there’s only one option left. Take the key from them. Kill them if necessary.”
The vampires attacked.
Marcus fired. Silver bullets tore through two vampires, who howled and collapsed.
Thomas threw holy water. It sizzled on vampire flesh, burning it.
But there were too many.
Erik raised the Soul Key and called the light.
It came—but weaker than before. His body was too exhausted, his soul too drained.
The barrier he created held for only seconds.
Then it shattered.
The vampires swarmed them.
Erik was dragged to the ground. Hands—cold, inhumanly strong—tore at him, trying to seize the key.
“No!” Erik clutched it, fighting with everything he had.
Then—a gunshot.
A vampire looming over Erik collapsed to the side.
Erik looked up.
At the chamber entrance: the mothers. Anna, Mrs. Hartmann, Mrs. Özkan, Mrs. Wagner.
They had their weapons raised—the tasers, the UV lamps. And they were firing.
“Backup’s here!” Anna shouted. “Move! Get up!”
The distraction bought Erik time. He scrambled to his feet, the key clenched tight.
Marcus and Thomas fought free as well—bloodied, but alive.
“Fall back!” Marcus ordered. “To the door!”
They ran. The mothers covered them, firing UV lamps that made the vampires hiss and recoil.
Then someone stepped into their path.
Helena.
“You can’t leave,” she said. Not threatening. Almost sad. “Not with the key.”
“Then stop us,” Erik said, raising the key. “If you can.”
Helena hesitated. Just for a moment. But it was enough.
Erik rushed past her, through the door, back into the tunnel.
The others followed.
Behind them, Helena’s voice echoed: “Erik! Come back! Please!”
But he kept running.
They reached the stone staircase, stumbled upward, back into the abandoned bakery.
“To the cars!” Marcus gasped.
They ran through the streets, ignoring the startled looks of passersby.
They reached the cars, jumped inside.
Marcus drove—too fast, taking corners on two wheels.
Only when they reached headquarters, only when they were safe, did Erik allow himself to breathe.
“We failed,” Thomas whispered, blood running from a wound on his forehead. “Helena is lost.”
“No.” Erik clenched the key. “She’s not lost. Not yet. She hesitated. Did you see it? When I ran past her—she hesitated.”
“A moment of hesitation won’t save her,” Marcus said bitterly.
“But it shows she’s still there. The real Helena, deep inside.” Erik looked at each of them. “We don’t give up. We find a way to bring her back.”
“How?” Marcus’s voice was weary. “She’s turned. Willingly turned. There’s no ritual that can reverse that.”
“Then we invent one.” Erik stood, despite the pain. “Or we find another way. But we don’t give up.”
He left the car and went into headquarters.
Yuki was waiting, her face pale.
“I saw everything,” she whispered. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “On the cameras. Helena… she’s…”
“Still savable,” Erik interrupted. “And we will save her. No matter how.”
He went to his room and carefully placed the key on the bedside table.
Then he collapsed onto the bed.
And for the first time in weeks, he cried.
For Helena. For the lost babies. For everything that had gone wrong.
But also for what was yet to come.
Because the war was not over.
It had only just begun.
CHAPTER 14
Subway Battle
Erik woke to the sound of voices.
Loud voices. Arguing voices.
He glanced at the clock. 4:37 a.m. He had slept for two hours.
He got up and followed the voices to the conference room.
Marcus and Thomas were arguing. Yuki sat between them, trying to mediate.
“—completely insane!” Marcus slammed his fist on the table. “You can’t seriously suggest we just go back!”
“I’m suggesting that we don’t give up on Helena,” Thomas said calmly but firmly. “She didn’t give up on us when we were in danger. Why should we give up on her?”
“Because she’s one of them now!” Marcus’s face was red. “She’s a vampire, Thomas! She drinks blood, she serves Katalin, she’s—”
“She’s still Helena.” Thomas stood up. “I saw it in her eyes. Beneath the darkness, beneath the transformation—she’s still there.”
“That’s wishful thinking.”
“Is it?” Thomas turned to Erik, who had just entered. “Erik, you were closer to her than any of us. Tell him. Tell him she hesitated.”
Erik rubbed his face. “She hesitated, yes. But I don’t know if that’s enough.”
“See?” Marcus pointed at Erik. “Even he—”
“But,” Erik continued, “I think we have to try. Helena devoted her life to saving others. The least we can do is try to save her.”
“How?” Marcus’s frustration was palpable. “There’s no ritual for voluntary transformation! She drank from the chalice, she chose—this is completely different from the babies!”
“Then we find a way,” Yuki cut in. She looked exhausted, clearly having worked through the night. “I’ve been researching. Every source, every text on vampirism I could find.”
“And?” Erik asked.
“There are… precedents. Very rare ones, but they exist.” Yuki opened her laptop and showed an old manuscript. “In the 15th century, in Romania, there was a case. A vampire who was voluntarily transformed returned to humanity.”
“How?”
“Through something they called ‘the Confrontation.’ The vampire was forced to face their humanity—memories, emotions, connections—everything they had abandoned.” Yuki scrolled. “It was agonizing. Most didn’t survive it. But those who did…”
“…became human again,” Thomas finished. “I’ve heard of it. An Orthodox ritual. Very old. Very dangerous.”
“Can we perform it?” Erik asked.
“Theoretically, yes. But we’d need Helena’s cooperation. She’d have to participate willingly.” Thomas looked doubtful. “And after what we saw…”
“She won’t cooperate,” Marcus said flatly. “She’s made her choice.”
“Then we convince her,” Erik said. “We make her doubt. Katalin. The transformation. Everything.”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
Erik walked to the map of Munich. His eyes scanned the marked ley lines and sites of Council activity.
“Katalin is planning the Ritual of Eternal Night. At the summer solstice, seven months from now. But she’s already preparing.” He pointed to several locations. “She needs sacrifices. Power. Resources.”
“And?” Marcus asked.
“We disrupt her plans. Sabotage her preparations. Every time she tries to move, we’re there to stop her.” Erik turned back to them. “If we delay her enough, harass her enough—maybe Helena realizes she’s on the wrong side.”
“That’s a long game,” Yuki said skeptically.
“Do you have a better idea?”
Silence.
“Then it’s settled.” Erik returned to the table. “Yuki, what do we know about the Council’s next planned activities?”
Yuki typed rapidly. “I’ve intensified surveillance on the ley line points. In the last twenty-four hours there’s been increased activity at three locations: Frauenkirche, the English Garden, and…” She hesitated. “The Sendlinger Tor subway station.”
“Sendlinger Tor?” Marcus frowned. “That’s not on the ley line map.”
“No, but it lies directly above one. An old underground spring that used to be a sanctuary.” Yuki zoomed in. “And there are reports of strange incidents there. People disappearing. Bloodstains. The police investigate but find nothing.”
“Because the vampires clean up,” Thomas said. “Sendlinger Tor makes sense. Central, heavily used, but relatively empty at night.”
“What are they planning there?” Erik asked.
“No idea. But it must be important if they’re risking that much activity.” Yuki showed surveillance footage. “Look at this. Last night, 2:37 a.m.”
The video showed the subway station. Empty except for a security guard. Then, from the tunnel: figures. Vampires. Six, seven, more. They were carrying something—large crates, heavy.
“What’s in the crates?” Erik asked.
“I can’t tell. Too dark, too far from the cameras.” Yuki fast-forwarded. “They went deeper into the tunnel. Not to the platform—into a maintenance tunnel.”
“They’re building something,” Thomas realized. “Or storing something.”
“For the ritual,” Erik added. “These are preparations.”
Marcus leaned back, arms crossed. “So what—go in, take a look, destroy whatever they have?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s suicide. If they’re expecting us—”
“Then we’ll be careful.” Erik met each of their eyes. “Minimal team. Just the three of us. Yuki coordinates from here. The mothers stay here, safe.”
“The mothers won’t like that,” Yuki muttered.
“They risked their lives last night. That’s enough.” Erik’s voice hardened. “This is our job. No more civilians in danger.”
“Agreed,” Marcus said after a moment. “But we go in prepared. Maximum firepower, maximum caution.”
“When?” Thomas asked.
Erik checked the time. “The subway opens at 4:00 a.m. Traffic stays minimal until 6:00. We have a two-hour window.”
“That gives us nineteen hours to prepare,” Marcus calculated. “Good. We’ll need every minute.”
The day passed in feverish preparation.
Marcus inspected weapons, assembled improvised explosives—“emergency use only,” he insisted. Thomas prepared warding circles, blessed ammunition, prayed over artifacts.
Erik practiced again with the key—but more carefully this time. He summoned the light only briefly, then let it fade, trying to spare his soul.
“You need to rest,” Yuki said when she brought him lunch. “Your body needs recovery.”
“I can’t sleep.” Erik took the sandwich and ate mechanically. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Helena. Standing there, eyes glowing, looking at us like we were strangers.”
“She wasn’t herself.”
“But she was.” Erik set the sandwich aside, suddenly without appetite. “That’s what’s terrifying. Parts of her were still there. Her voice, her mannerisms. Just… twisted. Corrupted.”
“That’s why we have to bring her back.” Yuki sat beside him. “Erik, I spoke with Thomas. About the Confrontation ritual. He thinks it might work. But…”
“But?”
“It requires someone close to Helena. Someone she trusts—even now.” Yuki met his eyes. “Someone like you.”
“Me? I’ve known her barely two weeks.”
“In those two weeks you went through more with her than most people do in a lifetime. You fought together, bled together, suffered together.” Yuki smiled faintly. “She trusts you. I saw it in the way she looked at you.”
“She looked at me yesterday like she wanted to kill me.”
“She looked at you like she was afraid you’d judge her,” Yuki corrected gently. “That’s not the same.”
Erik was silent, thinking.
“If we truly want to bring her back,” Yuki continued, “then you’re the key. Not the artifact. You.”
“No pressure or anything,” Erik muttered.
“Sorry.” Yuki stood. “But it’s the truth. That’s why it’s so important you survive tonight. Munich needs you. The Night Watch needs you.”
“Helena needs me.”
“Exactly.” Yuki paused at the door. “Erik? Don’t get yourself killed. Not for Helena, not for anyone. Your life matters too.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Good.” She left.
Erik stayed behind, staring at the Soul Key on the table.
The artifact glowed faintly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
“What are you really?” he whispered. “Why did you choose me?”
The key didn’t answer. Of course not.
But Erik could have sworn he heard a whisper, deep in his mind.
Because you are willing to sacrifice. Like all those before you.
They set out at 3:30 a.m.
The city was still asleep, the streets empty. Only the occasional taxi and night worker passed by.
They parked two blocks from Sendlinger Tor and approached on foot, inconspicuous, backpacks slung over their shoulders.
The subway station was just opening as they arrived. A tired attendant unlocked the gates and nodded at them.
They bought tickets and descended to the platform.
The station was almost empty. A homeless man slept on a bench beneath newspapers. A group of drunk partygoers laughed too loudly.
“Maintenance tunnel is over there,” Marcus whispered, pointing to a door at the end of the platform. “Padlocked.”
“I’ve got bolt cutters,” Erik said, patting his pack.
“Of course you do.” Marcus grinned briefly. “Let’s wait for a train. Use the distraction.”
They waited. Five minutes. Ten.
Then the rumble of an approaching train.
“Now!” Marcus moved fast.
Erik followed, pulled out the bolt cutters. One snip—the lock fell away.
Thomas kept watch, distracting the attendant with a question about schedules.
They slipped through the door and closed it behind them.
Beyond it: darkness. A narrow tunnel lit only by emergency lights.
Marcus switched on his flashlight. “Careful. Tracks are still live.”
They walked along the edge, avoiding the rails. The tunnel stretched for a hundred meters, then branched.
“Left or right?” Erik whispered.
“Left. I smell something.” Thomas sniffed the air. “Blood. And something else. Incense, maybe.”
They took the left tunnel. It sloped downward, deeper beneath the city.
Fifty meters later: a chamber.
It was large, half natural, half excavated. The walls were damp, covered in moss. And in the center—
“My God,” Marcus whispered.
An altar. Larger than the one beneath St. Peter’s Church. Black stone, etched with carvings that seemed to pulse in the beam of their lights.
And around it: the crates. The crates from the surveillance footage.
Erik stepped closer and opened one.
Inside: bones. Human bones, cleanly bleached, engraved with runes.
“Offerings,” Thomas said softly. “For the ritual. The bones strengthen the connection to the darkness.”
“How many?” Marcus asked.
Erik counted. “Twelve. Each one full.”
“That’s hundreds of people,” Thomas whispered in horror. “Where did they get them?”
“Graveyards. Catacombs. Mass graves.” Marcus’s voice was hard. “Katalin has had centuries to collect.”
“We have to destroy this,” Erik said. He reached into his pack and pulled out one of Marcus’s improvised charges. “All of it.”
“Agreed.” Marcus began placing the other charges. “Thomas, can you bless them? Make sure we destroy the magic as well as the altar?”
“I’ll try.” Thomas moved from crate to crate, murmuring prayers, sprinkling holy water.
Erik placed the final charge on the altar itself. His hands trembled slightly. If this went wrong—if the blast was too large—they could collapse the entire tunnel.
“Done,” Marcus said. “Timer set for five minutes. Enough time to get out.”
“Then let’s—”
“How touching.”
They all turned.
At the entrance to the chamber stood Dimitri.
And behind him: Helena.
“You really thought we’d leave this place unguarded?” Dimitri smiled. “How naive.”
“Dimitri, let us go,” Erik said. His hand moved toward the Soul Key. “We don’t want a fight.”
“But I do.” Dimitri’s eyes flared. “You disrupted our plans. Sabotaged our preparations. That demands… consequences.”
“Helena.” Erik ignored Dimitri and focused on her. “You don’t have to do this. You can let us go.”
She looked at him. For a moment—just a heartbeat—Erik saw something in her eyes. Doubt? Regret?
Then it was gone.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said softly. “Now I have to stop you.”
“Then do it.” Erik drew the key. “If you can.”
Helena hesitated again. Just a second.
But Dimitri didn’t.
He attacked.
Too fast to see. Erik was slammed to the ground, the key torn from his hand.
Marcus fired, but Dimitri dodged, the bullets hitting only stone.
Thomas threw holy water, striking Dimitri’s shoulder. The vampire hissed and recoiled.
Erik crawled toward the key, reached—
Helena was faster.
She stood over him, the key in her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
More vampires emerged from the shadows. Five, six, more.
They were surrounded.
“The charges!” Marcus shouted. “Detonate them now!”
Thomas pressed the remote trigger.
Nothing happened.
“They’re not working!” Thomas pressed again. “Something’s blocking the signal!”
“Magical interference,” Dimitri said amused. “We learned from your last little stunt. Technology is so… unreliable in the presence of ancient magic.”
“Then we do it manually.” Marcus drew a knife and charged one of the charges.
A vampire attacked him. Marcus fought back, but he was outmatched.
Erik looked at Helena. She held the key, staring at it as if seeing it for the first time.
“Helena,” Erik said softly. “Please. Give me the key. Let us go.”
“I can’t.” Her voice trembled. “Mother… she would—”
“Fuck your mother!” Erik shouted. “You’re not her tool! You’re Helena Konstantin! Leader of the Night Watch! You’ve spent your life saving people!”
“I stopped saving.” Helena’s eyes filled with something—tears? Could vampires cry? “Now I take.”
“That’s a lie Katalin told you.” Erik stood, ignoring the vampires around him. “You’re better than this. I know you are.”
Helena shook her head. “You don’t know me.”
“I do.” Erik stepped closer, close enough to smell the blood on her. “You’re the woman who got on a train to Salzburg because she thought she couldn’t fight anymore. And I brought you back. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I believed in you. In your strength. In your goodness.” Erik met her gaze. “And I still do.”
A tear—an actual tear—ran down Helena’s cheek.
“Erik…” Her hand holding the key trembled.
“Enough!” Dimitri lunged for Erik.
But Helena moved faster.
She stepped between them, holding the key high.
“No,” she said. “Leave him alone.”
Dimitri froze. “What are you doing?”
“I… I don’t know.” Helena looked at the key in her hand. “But this doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right.”
“You’re confused. That’s normal for a new vampire. It will pass.” Dimitri’s voice softened, manipulative. “Come, sister. Give me the key. Let’s go home.”
“Home…” Helena’s voice was distant. “Where is home?”
“With Mother. With me. With family.”
“With Katalin, you mean.” Helena’s eyes cleared. “The woman who gave me away. Who only wanted me when I was useful.”
“She did what she thought was right—”
“She did what was convenient!” Helena’s voice grew stronger. “And now she’s manipulating me again. Using me. Like she uses everyone.”
She turned to Erik and pressed the key into his hand.
“Go,” she whispered. “Take the others. Run.”
“Not without you.”
“I still belong to them. I drank, I’m transformed. I can’t—”
“You can.” Erik took her hand. “Come with us. We’ll find a way.”
Helena looked at Dimitri, then back at Erik.
“I… I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
“You’re the strongest person I know.”
Helena smiled faintly. “You don’t know many people.”
“Enough to know when someone is special.”
Dimitri screamed in rage. “If you go with them, you’re a traitor! Mother will hunt you down, kill you!”
“Let her try.” Helena turned to him. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to please someone else. Mother. The Night Watch. Society. But now…” She took a deep breath. “Now I do what I believe is right.”
She faced the other vampires. “Let them go. All of them.”
The vampires hesitated, looking to Dimitri.
“You obey me!” he hissed. “Not her!”
“Then we fight.” Helena’s eyes blazed, deep red. “And I promise you—I’m stronger than all of you combined.”
It wasn’t empty bravado. Erik felt the power radiating from her. Katalin’s blood had made her terrifyingly strong.
The vampires backed away.
“You’ll regret this,” Dimitri said coldly. “All of you.”
Then he vanished into the shadows.
The others followed.
Helena collapsed, suddenly weak.
“Helena!” Erik caught her.
“The charges,” she gasped. “You have to… detonate them manually…”
“Three minutes,” Marcus shouted, running over. “We have to get out. Now!”
They supported Helena and ran back through the tunnel.
Behind them, Thomas manually triggered the charges.
They reached the main tunnel. The platform. Stumbled up the stairs.
They reached the street just as the explosion hit.
A deep roar. The ground shook. Somewhere beneath the city, something collapsed.
They kept moving, away from the station, until they were safe.
Only then did they allow themselves to breathe.
Helena lay on the ground, gasping. Her skin smoked faintly—the morning sun was beginning to rise.
“We need to get her inside,” Thomas said. “The sunlight will kill her.”
They carried Helena to the car and drove back to headquarters.
In the pale morning light, Erik saw her face. Tormented. Torn. But also… relieved.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for not giving up.”
“Never,” Erik said simply.
They reached headquarters. Yuki was already waiting, pale with worry.
“Helena!” She ran to her, helped carry her inside.
“I’m… different now,” Helena warned. “I’m a vampire. I need—”
“We’ll handle it,” Yuki said firmly. “Together. Like a family.”
They took Helena to a darkened room and laid her on the bed.
“Rest,” Thomas said. “We’ll talk later.”
Helena nodded weakly and closed her eyes.
They left the room and closed the door softly.
In the conference room, everyone slumped at once.
“That was too close,” Marcus said after a long pause.
“But we got her back,” Yuki said, tears of relief streaming down her face. “Helena is back.”
“Not completely,” Thomas said quietly. “She’s still transformed. Still a vampire. The fight isn’t over.”
“But we have a chance,” Erik said. “More than we did twelve hours ago.”
He leaned back, feeling exhaustion in every muscle.
They had Helena back—but at what cost?
And what would Katalin do now?
The war had entered a new phase.
And Erik had the sinking feeling that the worst was still to come.
Next part follows on January, 28th.