AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hello to you, Flare,” he greets the flames, voice old and hoarse. “And to you, Ember. No, I didn’t forget you, Inferno. And no,” he shambles along, continuing without pause, though it’s clear he’s addressing the one chaotic flame, “you asked me three hundred and forty-three years ago, but I will not give you a torch. Or a bigger candle.”
“He was a fire-binder before I turned him,” Merikh murmurs, tightening his hold around me. “His ability grew stronger.”
My face softens, and I smile. What a curious thin little man.
Well, he’s clearly more gaunt than thin. His skin, pale and insipid as an old parchment, stretches taut, clinging to his bones. Sunken cheeks, vacant eyes, and portions of his skin, so desiccated, a row of teeth are visible to make up the eerie landscape of his face. Strings of long, broken gray hair expose much of his skull.
Despite his corpse-like features, I admire the overcoat with the high collar, smart breeches, the vest over a ruffled poet shirt with ascot, and the tailored long coat. All the color of scarlet red with intricate black thread work adorning the shoulders. So many clothes for his skeletal frame, they look like they could fall off him at any moment. But he seems to wear them well. He even tied those few gray tresses back with a red ribbon.
Merikh crosses the few steps to meet the old man. “Bo...” He nods.
“Good to have you home, Lord Merikh. It’s been too long,” Bo responds before flaring his nostrils. “Now, what do you have there? Smells like another delicious offering.” He tries to lick his lips but isn’t so successful.
“Not an offering. Not this time.”
“Oh!”
My smile grows because I don’t think I’ve ever heard an old man squeal. But what did Merikh mean by “offering”? Has he brought others here? How many? What happened to them? The dark and dreadful fantasies multiply and blot out all other thoughts like spilled ink.
Merikh flashes his fangs before pulling the leather coat away to expose my shoulder. I shiver as he thumbs one of the fresh marks from those rebirthed fangs.
“I knew it!” Bo declares, bringing his palms together, but one of his phalanges snaps. “Oh, a pox upon you!” he says at the same time that I lurch and catch the phalange bone. Bo tilts his head to one side, inspecting me with those milky eyes, but all I feel is Merikh’s gaze on me as I smile and drop the phalange bone into Bo’s bony palm. “Well, now, much obliged.” He nods.
“Bo, this is Quintessa,” Merikh introduces us while brushing a few tresses of my hair behind my ear.
The skeletal gentleman lifts bony fingers to me in more of a saluting wave. “I would offer to shake your hand, but I can’t seem to get a grip at the moment.”
A giggle ripples up my throat. “That was a joke. He made a joke,” I say to Merikh and slide one arm back around his neck, grateful for his long coat concealing me.
Bo offers me a partial smile—at least, I think it’s a smile, given how his exposed teeth give him a more perma-grin.
“His jokes have been a source of personal torture in all the ages he has served as my steward,” Merikh grunts.
“I knew something had happened. They were restless—the fresher ones in the Court. And the ones in the catacombs opened their eyes for the first time in a century.”
“Good. Let the word spread. The Lord of the Court of Hollows has returned. And he will be bringing a guest of honor to the Feast of Souls.” The vampire strokes his knuckles along my cheek, triggering a feverish chill between my legs.
“Splendid. I’ll arrange the?—”
“Blood Crest,” Merikh interrupts, furrowing his brows with his gaze intent and dominant.
Bo flicks his eyes at me, and I imagine if he had brows, they would lift high. Black veins rise to the surface of his pallid skin. Shadows seem to grow around his eyes.
“Bo...” Merikh growls, and the corpse-like man snaps his eyes back to his lord.
“Not the bloodstone throne, my lord?” Bo fidgets with his ascot, shedding bone dust upon the silk.
“No. The throne will come later. The Blood Crest. And the altar first. Am I quite clear?”
I dart my gaze between them. Apprehension twists my nerve endings and raises the hairs on my skin from the severity of Merikh’s statement. Tension swells in his muscles despite how he’s just fed on me...and fucked me. But whatever adrenaline pricked my blood from meeting the steward is draining, and I yawn.
“Of course, Lord Merikh.” Bo bows his head.
“I must take my little dove to the Sea.” Merikh sifts his fingers through my hair, which only lulls my eyes to close while I sigh in weak contentment on his chest. Their words blur in my ears as I slowly pass out.
2
I will bring death to her as I have all others.
