Angelique Armae by Come The Night

Author:Come The Night [Night, Come The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-16T17:20:55.544000+00:00

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Topped with large, chunky candleholders from which flaming towers of dripping wax burned, long narrow tables sat scattered about the room. Their flickering lights illuminated the chamber. Neomina took a deep breath. The heavy scent of spicy incense filled the air and made her feel as if she had just set foot inside a church. Nothing could have been farther from the fact. She wondered if any of Lazarus's kin even prayed anymore. The New Breed was an odd group of beings, exorcized by Christ, bound by darkness. She wondered how they truly felt living as creatures of the undead. An odd sensation of turmoil and acceptance filled the very core of her being.

Cold, dark eyes rose up to greet Neomina as she made her way through the great hall. She didn't like being the center of their attention.

As Monty ushered her through the room, her mind filled with what seemed to be numerous voices.

Whispers echoed in her ears, her thoughts swirling from one idea to another. The sudden rush of being open to Vampyric telepathy took her by storm. This is what Lazarus must have meant earlier when he said she forced his thoughts into her head and vice-versa. She wondered if this was what her father had lived with and if now, since his death, his Vampyric powers were emerging in her. The odd notion perplexed her, but not knowing what changes awaited her frightened her even more than they confused her.

She regarded the Tribe with a new caution. Each member appeared to study her from head to foot as if searching to identify what type of soul had stolen Lazarus's heart. Apparently, they were not accustomed to having strangers among them, especially during their nightly gatherings, and for only this reason, she excused their unwanted stares.

Silence descended upon the room like a hawk stalking its prey and made every breath audible in the quiet, dead air. Neomina grew uneasy among the stares. The Tribe sat assessing her and she wondered if they'd approve of her or dismiss her since she came to them in a mortal state.

A pale, waifish-looking woman rose from her seat, offered Neomina a welcoming hand, and broke the cold barrier rising between the Tribe and herself.

"It is with great pleasure I make your acquaintance, my lady. I have heard much about you from Lazarus.

I am his cousin, Althea."

She accepted the welcome, but still felt oddly out of place among the Tribe. Althea's pale face and dead, cold hand sent a chill up Neomina's spine. She did not remember Lazarus's flesh ever feeling as icy as his cousin's.

Montigrael stepped up to her. “May I introduce you to Lazarus's mother? She waits for you at the head table.” He slightly nudged Neomina forward.

Octavia sat at the main table and looked every bit the regal Vampyre that possessed her soul. She had hair as black as night, and deep, fathomless eyes the color of rich chocolate. Yet something about the woman comforted Neomina. She sensed warmth in Octavia not found in any of the other members of Lazarus's Tribe.

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