Chapter 1 #2
“When I say run,” my voice is low, “you head for the far side of the village. Then you keep running until you reach the Borderlands with the dragons. Ask for Prince Aurelius.”
“Why?” Lazarus holds onto me tighter. “Why, Lan?”
I avoid his gaze. “I’m going to delay them.
You’re not a fighter; I am. How much practice have I had against the village Bloods?
Maybe nurse has a point about me being a bat-winged little monster who was born to bathe in blood.
Hmm, I didn’t realize before how good she is with words. She should have been a poet.”
If one of us must die in the Void, then by my heart, it will be me.
The little monster.
Lazarus growls, latching his fangs hard into the scruff of my neck, before dragging me backward down the path.
I hiss and struggle, but Lazarus doesn’t let go, made strong in his desperation not to be parted from me.
I am impressed.
Unexpectedly, winding scarlet ribbons snap out of the dark like snakes.
I howl in shock, as the ribbons wrap around my ankles and drag my feet out from underneath me, ripping me away from my twin.
By the Shadow Devils, who is attacking us?
I bang my head against the hard earth and grunt. Stars explode in front of my eyes like a second night sky opening up.
Pain explodes through me, but I push through it when I hear my brother cry out.
I call to my rats in desperation. Unlike Bloods, animals have never let me down.
By the Power, my noble whiskered friends, protect my brother.
The rats skitter in a furry sea around Lazarus. Their bodies heave in dangerous, furiously hissing waves.
I shove myself to my knees, raising my hands.
A monstrous darkness rises inside me, screaming my agony and fear. It feeds on it, swelling fat and hungry.
I am the legendary monster prince.
Generations of animalists with The Power live on in my blood; I feel them now, united with me for the first time.
Shadows rise up, tar-like. They swell out from me, as my Alpha pheromones become deeper and more dominant.
My eyes glow in the dark. My waist length hair flows around me, coated in shadows.
I straighten my shoulders, trying not to show my terror. I can’t hide the unhinged rage, however, which isn’t all mine but belongs to the spirits of my ancestors who swirl around me like smoke.
A woman stalks from the shadows of the pyramids.
I am shocked by her sweet lotus scent because she is an Omega, but she isn’t backing down from my furious bursts of Alpha pheromones.
Instead, she looks amused.
She is tall and stately, dressed in a long dress that trails along the ground behind her. The dress is entirely made up of red ribbons that weave around her serpent-like, as if they are alive.
Her face is covered by a veil that masks her eyes. I can only see her lips that are painted with a slash of red like a wound.
Her fangs are unusually long and curved.
I have no idea how old she is: She could be Mother’s age or ancient.
So, this is the High Priestess, Nebet, of the Scarlet Temple.
My skin crawls.
Her magic makes my shadows recoil.
I bare my fangs at her.
“I do enjoy a hunt.” Nebet’s voice is seductive but cruel. “How entertaining. I wish that I had been able to play with princes before now.”
“Eat burning poison,” I snarl. “Ribbons aren’t my style of play. I prefer daggers.”
Nebet’s smile dies. “It appears that no one has taught you manners yet. I will enjoy teaching you. Also, with all your pretty hair, you truly should be wearing ribbons. I shall improve how you dress. Don’t worry, princeling, you shall have as many daggers as your dark heart desires.”
“Lan,” Lazarus’ eyes are wide with fear, “we’re not going with her, right?”
I narrow my eyes. “Right.”
I shove myself to my feet, squaring my shoulders.
Nebet towers over me, but the possessive way that she is looking at my brother is enough to surge rage through me.
Large leathery bat wings burst from my back. They rip through my tunic, before I spread them wide.
Shadows ebb and flow at their edges, as if they’re trailing the night with them.
I flap my wings, threateningly.
Nebet laughs. “Oh, you’re precious, little fang. Put those away, before you hurt yourself.”
I growl, rushing her with uncanny speed.
My shadows whip out, catching Nebet by surprise. She hisses in pain, stumbling back a pace.
Nebet raises her hand to her cheek, probing at her cut lip in shock. She stares at the crimson that is blossoming on the pads of her fingers like it has been decades since she has seen her own blood, rather than someone else’s there.
I bet it has.
I grin, viciously.
Nebet’s eyes flash with rage, before her ribbons whip out, lightning fast. I attempt to wrap my bat wings around myself as a shield but I can’t stop the ribbons from tying themselves around me so tightly that I struggle to breathe.
I can’t move.
I can’t…breathe.
My arms are trussed to my sides, and my shadows are forced back inside me.
I howl in pain, as my wings are crushed against my chest.
More and more ribbons wind out, binding me more securely, all the way to my head. They pull me off my feet, until I am dangling in the air.
Damn her to hell.
I feel helpless, more than I ever have in my life.
My moths circle above my head in agitation, lighting me up, as if I am a captured moon god.
The ribbons pull me closer to the Head Priestess, acting as chains. They wrap around my neck in a collar.
“D-D-Don’t…” I panic at the sensation of the ribbons cutting off my breath.
My lungs burn.
I struggle to concentrate.
I could call to the scarab beetles to rescue me.
The snakes…
The wild dogs…
But then, the ribbons wrap around my mouth, invasive and stinking of sweet honey and spices.
I gag, biting my fangs down hard into the silk and enjoying the way that Nebet flinches.
“Stop it,” Lazarus screams. “Let him go.”
Nebet ignores my brother, pulling me until I am pressed against her body like our souls have been bound.
Tremors wrack me.
I can sense terrible things in her scent and magic: the allure of death.
Nebet licks over her busted lip. “You’re a feral creature. A beast. But I will train you to channel that rage. You will become my best assassin.”
Assassin?
I am a prince.
I’ll tear out my enemies’ hearts and devour them but I won’t become a tool for someone else. I especially won’t work for this priestess who would take me from my brother.
My gaze blazes.
Nebet leans closer.
Her ribbons strangle me for a terrifying single moment, before easing the pressure.
My neck aches, and I painfully swallow.
Nebet’s red lips graze my ear. “The Scarlet Temple worships pleasure and death. They are both primal desires. You are death. The only Shadow Vampire with The Power: animalism. You’re a little monster but you will become my monster.
I petitioned that you be executed at birth, but the King begged on his knees, such an adorable sight, weeping for mercy.
This…what happens tonight…is that mercy. ”
I bite harder on the ribbon in my mouth.
Nebet’s lips pinch.
She touches her fingers to my forehead. “The priestesses have the ability of visions. Shall I show you what happened to your ancestors who were born with The Power?”
I attempt to struggle and shake my head, but she presses harder with her fingers.
…the agony of burning flames…peeling skin…gasping for breath as my head is pushed under water…weeping as I am knocked to the ground, and the soldier raises his mace…being bent over an ornate silver altar that sears my skin, while a blade rests against my throat and then slices…
My scream is muffled by the ribbons, as I blink back into my body.
I am staring at the red veil of the High Priestess, shivering in the cold night air.
I am shaking. I can’t stop. The spirits of the tomb feel more alive than they ever have, whispering mournfully in my ears.
That’s what was done to my ancestors simply because they were born with The Power…? Because they were Bloods who could shift and control animals?
I’ll avenge them. Somehow.
Nebet thinks that I’m just a weak child — a little fang — who she can scare into obedience through these visions.
Yet I’ve never been just a child.
Just a Blood.
Just anything.
The Power lives in me alone. And now I know what has been done to my people, my bloodline, Nebet has lit a fire in me that will never go out.
I glare at Nebet.
Her lips curl into a snarl like she expected to break me with the visions and is disappointed with my reaction. She wrenches her hand back, raising it to backhand me.
“Anything,” Lazarus pleads, pulling himself to his knees. “I will do anything, as long as you don’t hurt my brother.”
I wish that I could see Lazarus.
At least, if he could see me, I would be able to tell him to shut his fanged mouth.
An Alpha Shadow Vampire does not promise to obey.
A prince does not kneel.
And only a fool swears to do anything.
“This is definitely the one, Bride of the Shadow Devils,” a smarmy, cheery voice calls. “You chose the right twin to become the assassin. And this one is perfect to be my stupid but sweet martyr. That’s right, stay on your knees, good little fang.”
My eyes widen, as a portly Blood, a Beta, strolls down the path, breathing deeply of the crisp night air like he’s out taking a leisurely stroll. His head is shaved, and his leathery face is etched with wrinkles. His eyes are silver and cold, despite his creepy smile.
He looks like he’s trying to sell something.
I’m not buying.
He is dressed in silver robes, which are emblazoned with the glowing pyramid hieroglyphs of the Void Cult.
The Beta reaches out to pat me on the head. “Feisty, isn’t he?”
I glare at him, hoping that he can read in my eyes that they should free me and see just how feisty I am.
Nebet nods. “He’ll make a deadly assassin, once he’s broken, of course. Queen KalaKant was right.”
I can’t hold back the sob.
Mother did plan this.
“Mother.” Lazarus weeps. “She wouldn’t—”