Dawn Walker

Chapter 228: 228: The Weight of Blood III

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Behind them, Sofia muttered something deeply impolite under her breath. Natasha looked as though she would rather volunteer to be buried standing up than watch a family reunion happen in front of her.

For the first time since Alex’s death, the future did not feel like a knife held to Sekhmet’s throat.

It still felt dangerous.

It still felt tangled.

But there was something else in it now. Something stranger.

Answers. Or at least the possibility of them.

Sekhmet turned once more and looked at the ruined hall, the cracked pillars, the sealed enemies, the faint red stains drying across the stone, and the place where he had stood over a half-god corpse only minutes earlier. His chaos energy moved heavily under his skin. Rank two now. Stronger. Sharper. More awake than before.

And somewhere far away, in that hidden place no one spoke of lightly, his father got many secrets.

That thought hit harder than the battle had.

Elena stepped toward the exit.

Seraphiel followed.

Sekhmet walked with them.

They left the ruined auction hall in a silence that felt heavier than noise.

The empty hall remained behind, holding its blood and secrets until the next disaster came looking for a door.

The city outside had not yet understood what had happened inside those cracked walls. The streets beyond the auction district still held their late-night lamps, their tired carriage sounds, their drifting voices, their ordinary breath. A few people in distant alleys laughed about something stupid. Somewhere a drunk man was probably losing an argument to a wall and thinking he was winning. None of them knew a half-god corpse had just vanished into the void. None of them knew two sealed half-god vampires were walking through the night like defeated queens dragged out of a nightmare.

Sekhmet walked beside the group with his shoulders still carrying the weight of battle.

The blood on his mouth was gone now, wiped clean, but the memory of Alex’s throat had not left him. It sat under his skin like heat caught inside iron. His chaos energy moved differently now. Deeper. Denser. Every step reminded him of it. Even the city air felt thinner than before, as if his body had grown heavier in a world that had not agreed to change with him.

Elena walked on one side of him.

Lady Seraphiel walked on the other side of the two prisoners, her bearing elegant enough that anyone who looked too quickly might have mistaken this for a strange noble procession. That illusion only lasted until the eye lingered on Sofia and Natasha.

The two women looked human now.

That was the disturbing part.

Not because they had become harmless. Because they looked too normal for what they were. Silver-haired Sofia walked with her chin high despite the seal, fury banked behind her eyes like coals under ash. Natasha’s expression had hardened into a cold, ugly silence. Both were bound in invisible law rather than chains, and though their steps were steady, something in their bodies had changed. Their presence had shrunk. Less pressure. Less supernatural heaviness. The seal had not just hidden their power. It had crushed it inward until it could no longer breathe.

Elena noticed Sekhmet watching them.

“Your aunt sealed their powers,” she said.

The words still sounded strange. Your aunt. Sekhmet had not yet decided what to do with that revelation. Put it on a shelf. Throw it at a wall. Stare at it until it explained itself. All three options felt valid.

Elena continued in the same calm tone she used when explaining dangerous things to people who needed to live long enough to understand them. “They are like normal humans now. They cannot use any chaos energy and their blood powers are sealed too. Their chaos bodies are also heavily weakened by the seal.”

Sekhmet’s gaze stayed on Sofia and Natasha.

“But,” Elena said, “they are still half-gods. So even like this, they should still have physical power around rank three at least. Maybe a little more depending on how much of their base structure resists the suppression.”

Natasha’s mouth moved faintly. “How flattering.”

Elena ignored her completely.

“So you must be careful,” Elena finished.

Sekhmet gave a small nod. “I understand.”

Sofia turned her head slightly and looked at him. “Do you?”

Her voice was smooth again, but weaker than before. The seal had taken the velvet authority out of it. Now it sounded like silk dragged over broken glass.

Sekhmet met her eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “That is why you are still walking and not buried.”

Sofia stared at him for a second, then laughed softly. It was not a happy sound. It was the kind of laugh people made when they had discovered the knife threatening them was younger than expected and somehow that made it worse.

Lady Seraphiel sighed lightly. “It is nothing dramatic. Just a trick I learned.”

Elena glanced at her. “A trick.”

Seraphiel lifted one delicate hand. “A refined trick.”

Then her gaze moved toward Sofia and Natasha with open, elegant disdain. “I am very familiar with blood suckers.”

Natasha’s eyes sharpened.

Sofia’s smile became thin.

Seraphiel paused, then looked at Sekhmet with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Oh my. I almost forgot. You are one too.”

For one heartbeat, even the night seemed to blink.

Then Seraphiel’s lips curved just enough to show she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Do not take it to heart,” she said.

Sekhmet looked at her for a moment. There were too many possible responses. Some respect. Some not. One of them involved asking whether this was how all hidden aunts behaved after appearing from the shadows of ancient family secrets. He decided not to risk it.

“I will try not to cry in the street,” he said.

Elena made a short sound that might have been a laugh trying not to be seen.

Seraphiel actually smiled. “Good. Tears ruin the mood.”

Then she waved one hand lazily toward Sofia and Natasha. “In any case, I will leave them in your hands. Do whatever you want with them.”

Sofia’s eyes turned colder.

Natasha’s jaw flexed.