Sire: Beautiful Monsters Vol. 2 by Jex Lane

Author:Jex Lane [Lane, Jex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jex Lane
Published: 2016-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The god was an exaggeration of everything vampires were. He was huge, much taller and wider than Matthew. He wore imposing black and red metal armor. His skin was a pale grey, he had long black hair, and his eyes were orbs of crimson, as if formed from blood. And like the skull found on the altar, black horns twisted from his head.

He looked exactly how Matthew imagined the god of vampires would—powerful and frightening. The god flexed his nightmarish claws and a pleased look crossed his face.

Matthew froze in place.

Until now, he had wanted to find his sire, face him, and ask why he had turned and then abandoned Matthew. But now that question was the last thing on his mind. What right did he have to demand anything from a god? In the god’s presence, every thought seemed to vanish.

Matthew sunk to a knee and bowed to his maker.

The Blood God walked around him, studying Matthew with his red eyes. Matthew’s muscles knotted with nervous anticipation. Shirtless and still coated with blood, he didn’t look his best right now.

“Nonsense,” the god said, his voice laced with an edge of danger, “you look like a warrior, as you should.”

Matthew hadn’t said anything. He looked up at his sire and the god smiled down at him, his mouth full of thin, terrifying fangs. Pride swelled within Matthew. Followed by dread, then confusion. This is what he had always wanted, and he couldn’t even speak.

The Blood God touched Matthew’s face and ran sharp claws down the jawline. Matthew’s vampire side came ripping forward. He roared with the sudden pain of it and he had to struggle to not pull away from his sire.

“That’s better.” The god chuckled and dug the tips of his black claws further into Matthew’s face. Drops of blood pooled at the points and dripped down. Matthew ground the back of his teeth, his fangs pierced the inside of his lip filling his mouth with a coppery tang.

The Blood God leaned in and pushed his claws deeper into Matthew’s flesh. “When you are worthy, you will be my champion and all will tremble before us.”

Around them, the candles flared, red wax flowing like water. The blood in the bowls floated into the air, forming into long tendrils that reminded Matthew of Devak’s wings. The tendrils encircled the two of them, writhing and twisting. Then they began to wrap around Matthew’s right arm, starting at the shoulder and spiraling to his fingertips.

He held up his hand and watched as the blood was absorbed into his body. It began to affect Matthew like a drug.

His eyes rolled back and sanguine visions of death filled his thoughts. Pleasure pulsed through him as he saw himself standing in a field of blood, armored and invincible. At his feet lay the broken bodies of his foes and his warriors bowed down around him.

A loud bang ripped him away from the vision.

When Matthew looked up, his sire was gone. In fact, everything was

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