“Tell the no account asshole I fed from a human. Is he happy yet? But I’ll be damned if I’ll drain him. Take this one out and get him to a doctor. If Asher wants me to be some high and mighty ruler, he can start obeying me. He can also let me out of this damned cell!” Or I’ll find my own way out, went unsaid.
Morrisey pressed against the goon’s aura, searching for weakness. No fear to feast on, or adoration either. No! Wait!
Adoration, but for Asher. Still, it was adoration, but like eating hamburgers while really wanting steak. Morrisey drew in the goon’s essence, not as sweet as the human’s but palatable all the same.
The goon gasped, turning around on the steps.
No! Morrisey pulled harder. Fear poured out of the man. The more he fought, the deeper Morrisey fed. He spread his arms wide. Power, glorious power, filled him.
Was this how vampire legends started? But instead of blood, the vampire thrived on emotion.
No, not emotion. Life force. The emotions only opened up the person, making them easy prey. Damn, it was good. Filling every pore of Morrisey’s being, giving strength, power, life.
A lower-tier traveler occupied the goon’s body. One of the servant class. Simple, easily biddable, and with a desire to please. Could Morrisey shift loyalty from Asher?
This time when he opened himself, he traded essence, allowing the minion a fraction of Morrisey’s life force.
The goon stopped struggling, standing in place, a dazed expression on his face. He spoke for the first time in Morrisey’s hearing. “I will do as you asked.” Taking the stairs two at a time, he vanished above, leaving the door open.
Morrisey prepared to run. His gaze fell on the suffering human in the corner. No, he couldn’t leave this man to whatever fate Asher intended. Asher killed without conscience, like he’d the divine right to take another’s life. Did he drain humans completely while feeding?
Probably.
Maybe Morrisey should take over as ruler if for no other reason than to prevent assholes like Asher from treating humans as food.
Hurried footsteps headed his way. Morrisey braced.
Asher suddenly appeared, somewhat disheveled, running down the stairs. He trained his worried expression into a sneer, glancing between the human and Morrisey. “I see you finally gave in to your nature.”
Morrisey folded his arms, giving off his best asshole vibe, perfected over many years of pissing people off. “I did.”
“Finish the human. He’s of no worth to you.”
Like hell would Morrisey take orders from this asshole. “No.”
Asher’s mouth dropped open. “No? Why not?”
Time to speak a language Asher might understand. “First, I don’t need to, and second, why waste a good human? Third, body counts draw too much attention. Should I go on?”
Asher scowled, the superimposed image on his host’s face a sinister being. The truth clicked into place. Morrisey didn’t see how the evil beings appeared in their own world—he saw their souls, for lack of a better word. Asher’s was a horror to behold: greedy, corrupt, and beyond redemption.
He proved the point by gloating. “Humans don’t matter. Soon we’ll rule the realm, and they’ll be relegated to the food they should be.”
Morrisey sent out feelers, invisible tendrils testing Asher’s defenses. The arrogant sonofabitch dished out his usual smug superiority.
For a moment only.
Asher’s smile fell as Morrisey probed further. Oh, yes. A hint of fear, admiration only for himself, but more: greed, conceit, deception. Bitter, like biting a lemon, but sustenance all the same. Morrisey pulled.
Asher paled. “Brother. What are you doing?”
“Exactly what you wanted me to do. Didn’t you tell me to feed off emotions?”
“Human fear. Traveler adoration. What are you taking from me? This shouldn’t be possible.”
“I’m taking the only things you have to offer.” Morrisey pulled again. What a rush! Power flooded through him, setting off tiny electric currents along his nerve endings. He flexed his fingers, marveling at their movement. For the first time in days, Morrisey didn’t feel hunger or thirst.
Sated. Totally sated.