Page 67 of Dark Master's Redemption

Now, it’s not just me and Ariana, but everyone who is bonded to us that generates the Music, as it blares like war horns and sings like choirs of angels between us. As our synergy hits its peak, that Music tunes into an enormous sound, clear as the ancient voices of the Ascendants themselves.

The Ascendant Sigil blaze writes itself in midair all around us, then; as it does, a corona of Light engulfs us. Not just us, but the entire battle, devouring those who fight against us, though it spares our Vampire allies.

As a Light bright as the sun sears my eyes, hundreds of times brighter than anything a Fae or Dark Fae could ever create, all my senses are overcome by light and heat like a searing midsummer day. But this is hundreds of times that, as that intense sigil and light sear even me now.

I throw up an arm to protect my eyes, as I suddenly feel like I’m standing ten feet from the sun. The Council Vampires fighting us don’t even have a moment to scream, the light blazes them that fast.

All at once, the light leaves.

And the Council’s attack is no more.

27

HONOR

My life is misery, as I’m kicked to the floor by Florian Delano and made to beg at his heel like a dog. My bonds to Lucca and Ariana, and my entire Dark Haven feel gone inside me; there’s so much darkness now from Florian’s eternal opiate haze that I’m barely aware which direction is up anymore.

I am losing the will to fight him, as something inside me dies from no longer being able to feel Lucca’s raging brightness and Ariana’s beautiful balance within me. Only my own Light, such a small thing, guttering now to this Night of eternal torture. Now, Florian makes me lick his boots—covered in excrement from his own bowels, that he shit upon me earlier and made me smear there.

Then punished me for it, viciously.

I was sitting in Florian’s shit; he made me roll in it earlier, and I smell all over of it now. But Florian’s terrible power makes me feel like it’s somehow the greatest ambrosia I could ever have upon me, as I slave to do anything that will win his approval.

Something deep inside me knows it’s wrong, though; something in me dies, knowing I’m being debased, but powerless to stop it. Through it all, my heart screams that my beloveds will be attacked by the Council this night, thanks to me.

And I can’t do anything to stop it.

“There, cur. Good dog.” Florian pets me now on my hair, which is one of the few places upon my entire naked body that isn’t smeared with his shit. He seizes my hair, making me look up at him now, as I receive yet another dose of his awful mesmerizing magic from his sparkling green orbs. It makes me feel pleasure as he approves of me—so hard I come from it.

Yet again.

“There. Good dogs get rewarded, don’t they?” Florian laughs now as he sits at my old dining table, taking up a goblet of blood and sipping it. Extending his legs, he pats his thigh for me to come. I do, hating myself for it.

He kicks me right in the ribs, sending me sprawling again.

“Cur! Look what you’ve done. You’ve dirtied my breeches with this shit. Lick it clean.” Florian gestures to his pants, where a smear of his own shit has indeed sullied him. I come to him, crawling on all fours because that’s how he likes me to be, as his dog. Sticking my tongue out, I lick it.

Horrified, even as the part he controls is elated to do his bidding.

“Make him lick more! It’s a riot,” a laughing female voice says from the table. Florian isn’t alone tonight. He has two of his ally Masters here with him this evening, to enjoy his hospitality and the show.

Calla and Eduardo Romero are dressed in their black haute couture finery as their dark eyes glow a bright canary yellow now to see me debased.

Allies I thought were mine—but who were Florian’s and the Council’s all along.

“It really is lovely, seeing him this way.” Eduardo sips a gilded chalice of blood, setting it down with a grin. “All this shit we’ve had to put up with over the years, pretending to be his allies just so the Council could get the dirt on everything he was doing in his little get-togethers each year. Thank all the saints and devils that’s done. Now we can get back to business as usual. Speaking of… may Calla and I make him dance?”

“Be my guest.” Florian nods me over to the Romeros now, who sit next to each other at the table, at corners to Florian. Calla wrinkles her nose at my smell, then gets a wicked grin as she waves her hand.

And then I’m up on my feet—doing an old English jig for her pleasure.

“Marvelous!” She claps her hands, laughing and waving, so my feet move faster. “Don’t be sloppy now, Quinn, get those steps right!”

“Did I say you could rise to your feet?” Florian joins the game now, sending a wave of pure torture through me with his power, though I can’t fall down to hands and knees anymore from him allowing Calla’s power to swamp me. “Bad dog!”

He makes me whimper and whine now as he thrusts spear after spear of torture right through my groin. My world fades to black as I come close to passing out, but Calla keeps me on my feet.

And Eduardo joins the fun now, making me sing opera for them, as well.

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