Vampire Princess (Rebel Angels Book 2) by Rosemary A Johns

Author:Rosemary A Johns [Johns, Rosemary A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-30T22:00:00+00:00

16

A disembodied head tangled in wild black hair and bedded on the feathery backs of dead Merlins, stared at me glassy-eyed across Merlin’s Grotto.

When I crawled closer, crimson crept onto my fingertips from the slashed neck.

Anpiel.

I choked on bile; it burned up the back of my throat.

Don’t hurl, don’t hurl, don’t hurl…

The cave swirled with violet and grey, whilst my mind fractured against the brutal truth: the vampires were in my yard and they’d ganked the Glory Harahel loved to get to me.

Rebel’s scream must’ve been on her moment of death. The echoes still tremored through my mind, along with the guilt.

Because the nightmare that shanks sharper than fear?

Grief.

Calm down the blame game, you didn’t start the war.

But what if I can end it?

You don’t even know the rules. There are players in this sport who’ve trained in death for centuries.

And you don’t even know their names.

Who the hell needs to know? As long as they never forget mine.

I pushed myself up, shooting calming strands through the Mark. Rebel’s pain dulled, like a sword rusted in blood.

I caught sight of Rebel and Harahel: two angels back-to-back guarding Anpiel’s torso, amidst a goth gang of snarling vampires.

Claws slashed scarlet lines down Harahel’s wings and bare chest, but he didn’t even flinch, numbed by loss. Silent tears streaked his cheeks, but his eyes blazed, whilst he swept his hardened wings like a shield. The same fighter Rebel had remembered with respect.

Life’s a bitch that it’d taken the death of his lover to rebirth Harahel.

Rebel lifted his chin, before clouting a vampire in the gut, who had more piercings then skin, as if he could still protect Anpiel.

The vampire doubled up, a grin stretching his studded lips — as his fangs descended — and spun his shank.

My heartbeat raced: Rebel was unarmed.

The vampires laughed, closing in hyena-like for the kill.

This time there was no boiling build-up, asking, or ozone air warning. Just a lava wave of rage.

A scorching beam burst from every part of me, super nova.

I stood above a valley of bones, where I reigned.

The monster.

Safe in the desolate land, with feathers beneath me, lit by the ghost light of glowing bones, my powers suckled me. And they whispered: You are death. The End. Destroyer.

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