Athena's Oracle (An Heirloom Vampyres Novella Book 1) by J.D. Brown

Author:J.D. Brown
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Published: 2014-08-11T23:00:00+00:00

She sat cross-legged on the stone floor under a window overlooking the sea, alone in the same spot where I first met her, in a little temple just outside the Acropolis gate. The full moon cast a radiant silver glow over the long waves of her chestnut hair and olive skin. It was the only light in the temple, and I knew she could not see me as I solidified in the black shadows near the door. Nevertheless, she turned her head ever-so-slightly toward her shoulder, acknowledging my presence. The corner of my mouth curved upward, delighted in our growing connection. She couldn’t see me, but she could hear my thoughts. Sense my nearness. It was such a vampyre-like behavior that, for a brief moment, I forgot her humanity. Then I remembered myself and scowled.

Get the spell and go. Nothing more.

“Do you have it?” I demanded.

She bit her lip and faced the window. Her head lowered, and the waves of her hair fell forward over her slender frame. “No.”

“No?” Rage heated my blood. I marched up to her and then grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to face me. I wasn’t expecting the look in her eyes and hesitated.

They were glassy and swollen, her nose red, cheeks streaked with moisture that had layered and dried several times over. She’d been crying.

I let go and stepped back. “What is this?”

Her lips pinched together and she looked away while wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Go on and kill me. I don’t care.”

My mouth opened, closed, then opened and closed again, unsure how to react. Father laughed hysterically. I clenched my fists, squeezed my eyes shut, and counted to a hundred.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “That… thing… it has no right to laugh.”

My eyes widened and every muscle in my body tensed as instinct, logic, and emotion battled inside me. It was all I could do to keep from ripping her head off. Did she always have to remind me that I was weak? Did I always have to feel so vulnerable in her presence?

She glanced in my direction and startled. Her breath caught as she stared at me. I guess my anger showed. She scooted toward the window, fear evident in her pleading tone. “I tried everything I could think of, I swear. I even talked to Father. The spell you need… that kind of power… it doesn’t exist.”

“It does,” I growled, still seething. “I’ve seen it.”

She had the gull to furrow her brows. “Then why didn’t you go to that source for help? Why torment me and my father?”

Father’s mocking laughter pushed me over the edge. I twisted to the side and punched a column. The stone cracked. So did my knuckles. I pulled my arm back and winced at the sharp pain.

“Did you just break your hand?” Her voice rose in concern, and she pushed to her feet.

“It’s fine,” I grunted, not wanting her pity.

“It’s not fine,” she said, reaching for my arm.

I growled and turned away, glaring at her from the corner of my vision.

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