“Bury it.” The whisper rasped against darkness as lightning split the sky.
“But Master, the storm—”
“Now,” Druan roared.
A grimy hand, fingers unnaturally long, lowered the vault lid and turned the key, locking the prisoner inside.
“Mark this place, and guard the key.”
The night flashed, illuminating a dozen men digging furiously in the earth, rain running in rivulets down mud-streaked faces, as the vault disappeared into the ground. The soft thud of dirt on metal was lost to the crash of thunder, and another bolt ripped through the heavens, as if God himself raged against the desecration taking place below.
Skin stretched, bones cracked and popped. A scream of triumph pierced the night as the last shovel of dirt fell.
It was finished.
Nothing could stop him now.
Chapter 1
Present Day…
Bree’s fingers tightened around the metal disk as she ran through the graveyard, zigzagging past leaning headstones. Her lantern swayed, throwing shadows on the crypt looming before her, its stone walls the color of bones. Thick vines crept over it, sealing in cracks left by time, while gnarled branches from the twisted oak hovered like outstretched arms. Protecting… or threatening?
An owl screeched overhead as Bree scurried up the crumbling steps, wishing night hadn’t fallen, when shadows twisted into monsters and spirits came out to play. The burial vault lay open near the back of the crypt, waiting. Blood roared past her ears, like the sound of all the angels’ wings beating in unison. She moved closer and peered at the chest inside. It was ornate, made of metal and wood, with green gemstones embedded in each corner. It looked ancient, like it belonged in a museum or a pyramid, or perhaps Solomon’s Temple. The beauty of it struck her again, as it had when she’d first discovered it.