Scorned by Tyffani Clark Kemp

Author:Tyffani Clark Kemp
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, vampire, urban fantasy, werewolves, roman, vampire romance, mages, lekrista

I woke to Tate’s voice and someone shaking me. My eyes felt dry and sandpapery when I opened them, and I blinked several times before Tate’s evanescent face came into view, a worried frown marring her forehead.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked. I had a crick in my neck and my back hurt. There was a wet spot on the sofa where I’d drooled, but it was toward the back of the sofa, so I was fairly certain Will and Marx hadn’t seen.

“About thirty minutes,” Marx answered.

Tate was still eyeing me with concern. “What is it?”

“Marx and Will told me about your...condition.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a condition. The ‘Vampire Scorned’ was in my head and she tried to kill me. Roman healed me. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Tate asked.

I thought about saying, “I have tourrettes too, what about it?” but I didn’t.

I stood, albeit wobbly, and said, “It’s fine. I just want this over with.” I wasn’t going to give them the chance to feel sorry for me.

“Where do we go from here?” I asked.

“This way.” Tate led us through the door and into a long hall. These walls were carved, like in the waiting room, to depict scenes of graphic violence, of sweet romance, and heroic shows of valor all interwoven into each other with signs and symbols that I didn’t know.

There were doors on either side of the hall, all closed. Occasionally, we passed a branching hallway, or turned down one, but we didn’t stop. No one else spoke, so I didn't either. They seemed a little frightened, and perhaps I would have been if I knew what I was getting myself into.

Finally, we came to the end of a hall. Fear and dread radiated off Will and Marx, but Tate portrayed indifference, like she’d been through this so many times it just didn’t scare her any more. Whatever this was.

I almost ran into Tate when she stopped abruptly and turned to face me. “There are a few things you need to know before we go in here.”

I opened my eyes wide as if to say, “You couldn’t have told me this earlier?”

“Speak only when spoken to,” Tate said. “Answer all questions directly. Don’t beat around the bush. If you don’t know or understand, say so. And, most importantly, keep all backtalk, sass, and jokes to yourself. It’s a sure way to get dismissed without a hearing.”

“You make it sound like I’m going to court,” I said.

Tate gave me a warning look - apparently that was considered backtalk - but said, “Pretend that you are. You’ll be better off. Ready?” But, I don’t think that last question was for me. Marx and Will nodded and Tate pushed the heavy wooden door open enough for the four of us to step through.

The room was so cavernous that the sound of rushing water drowned out everything else. I looked up, and kept looking up, into an expanse that eventually ended, not in a ceiling but a continuing darkness that told me the room was too big for words.

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