Page 2 of Crimson Devotion
One of the identifying aspects of the Sacred Seven vampires are their eyes. They’re said to be as red as rubies, and those who have seen them have been completely enamored by the sight. It’s been said that it’s like a sea of blood, dark, deep, and all-consuming.
This man has red eyes.
My eyes dip down to his wrist, and there’s a bracelet there. The exact one that I’m carrying in my pocket. It’s gold, thin, and made to fit his wrist perfectly.
He does not move.
He does not speak.
He does not blink.
I’m a good hunter. I’ve killed many vampires and came out alive to tell the tale. I’ve never feared a single one I’ve met, whether it be a young or old one. But this man? He’s a league of his own. I can’t overpower him, much less kill him. Tonight, I’ll die.
I make the mistake of blinking, and when my eyes open, he’s right in front of me.
He’s towering over me, his eyes looking down into mine. His expression remains passive, but the look of something so dark and sadistic stays locked on me, one that makes my stomach churn.
“Who are you?” I breathe out, my voice a mere, pathetic whisper.
The man tilts his head to the side, observing me silently. He inches closer, inhaling the scent of my neck.
Oh, God. Is this how I die? By having my blood drained from my body by a vampire? Just like my parents?
“You smell disgusting.’’ He grimaces.
His voice is deep enough to cut through any confidence I thought I had, and when he steps back, I know it’s too early to celebrate. It could very well be a play of sorts, and I can’t risk lowering my guard.
“My name is Valerio D’Achille, my dear ,’’ he murmurs, sending a wave of chills down my spine. “And you must be the brave little human who’s been seeking one of my own. For what purpose may I ask?”
His tone softens a fraction, almost as if he’s trying not to scare me. Despite having a very stoic expression, and the previous tone suggesting something akin to darkness, right now, he doesn’t seem malicious. I don’t believe it, not for one second.
However, we’re in the middle of a forest. Around us is a torn-down castle that’s been here for years, along with ten dead vampires. No doubt he knows I’ve done it. He was probably watching it, too.
“I’m only looking for one of you. I don’t know her name or what she looks like. But I know she’s missing her bracelet.’’
Valerio’s eyes briefly flick down to his wrist, and he nods. “I assumed as much. But that doesn’t answer my question, my dear. Why?”
“She killed my parents.’’
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and slowly nods. “You’re seeking revenge.’’
“Yes.’’
“Do you,’’ he pauses, looking me up and down, “truly believe that a human could murder one of the oldest vampires alive? Do you truly believe you possess what it takes?”
“Yes,’’ I respond, confidence returning to my body. I straighten up, lowering the stake but still keeping it next to me.
“Such foolishness.’’ He chuckles. “That stake you’re holding is a great weapon against those weaklings. But the seven of us?”
I don’t have the chance to react — he’s too fast. He grips my wrist and forces the stake deeply into his chest. My eyes widen, almost falling out of the sockets. Blood gushes out in one spurt, only the handle of the metal weapon remaining out. Then slowly, he removes it.
I watch in pure horror — or perhaps, fascination — as the massive hole in his chest starts closing immediately. Not a single scar is left, nothing that would indicate that a seven-inch dagger was just lodged in his chest.
“What the—’’
“As I said, my dear, you cannot hurt me.’’
My jaw clenches, and another round of shock follows. The blood on the stake evaporates completely, leaving clean, shiny metal behind. My eyebrows lift to my hairline, and I slowly drag my eyes toward Valerio.
