Page 4 of King of the Damned
I shake my head. “No.”
He nods curtly and then moves to stand up. My hand reaches out to grab the edge of his cape, afraid he’s going to leave me in here to die and rot. There’s another man across from me in a different cell, and he looks to be in horrible shape. Malnourished. Covered in dirt and his excrement. I don’t want that to be me.
This vampire,Kaius, pauses mid-squat and eyes me with curiosity.
“Please,” I beg. “Please don’t leave me here.”
“Do you know why they took you, Adelasia?”
I shudder. “So you can…feed?”
He laughs quietly to himself as if I’ve just told him a joke. “No. That’s not why you’re here at all.” He fully stands and with minimal effort, he grips the iron bars of my cell door and rips the entire thing off its hinges. The door falls to the ground with a loud clang. He removes his cape and holds it out for me. “Come. Quickly.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Does it matter? You asked me to let you out of your cage and that’s what I’ve done.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“The probability of that grows every second you keep me waiting here.Stand up.”
I do as he says and stand. I dust off my skirt before letting him wrap the cloak around my shoulders. It’s warm. Much warmer than I imagined feathers would be, and it smells…spicy in the best way. Though I’m tall, I’m nothing compared to him, and the cloak bunches around my ankles.
He grabs me by the wrist and pulls me along with him. He leads me out of the small prison, and we emerge from underground, allowing me my first glimpse of the mysterious vampire settlement. The demons of the night have always kept to themselves here. I suppose the tall ridges of the valley provide some protection from both the sun and demon hunters.
I never expected the city to be so…civilized. I suppose I imagined corpses and skeletons. Feral vampires that hiss as we pass. Blood spatter and gore littering the streets.
But much to my surprise, the buildings are unlike anything I’ve ever seen, erected out of the ground in thick, black marble structures that are ornate and beautiful. Gold, silver, and copper inlays make the sunlight that hasn’t quite crested over the jagged valley glimmer off the buildings, masking them in a pretty glow.
The man pulling me seems unconcerned with the impending sunlight.
The pavement is perfectly aligned charcoal gray stone. The street lamps are intricate wrought iron.
After only a short walk, a massive marble palace appears in front of us. It’s directly in the center of the settlement and the biggest structure I’ve ever seen.
It’s a beautiful, gothic masterpiece, but there’s something sinister about it. Something unholy and corrupted. I may no longer be in that cell, but I am still a prisoner.
I gulp, swallowing the burning, aching lump in my throat. Kaius leads me leisurely through the palace, straight to a bedroom. It’s large but filled with uneasy emptiness. The only furniture in the room is a small bed in the center, pushed against a blank wall.
No lights. No trinkets. No paintings. Nothing more than a single pillow on the bed and cold loneliness. There isn’t even a quilt.
Kaius finally releases my wrist, and I immediately put distance between us. It’s so dark here that I can only see the glow of his red eyes. My stomach drops when I notice him taking a step closer to me. And then another and another until I’m flat against a cold marble wall.
“Turn around.”
I don’t. Instead, I whimper.
I hear him sigh. “Let me be clear, little human girl: I am not known for my patience. If I need to ask twice, I won’t be asking. I’ll betaking.”
He roughly grabs my arms and twists me so I’m now facing the wall. He removes the cloak from my shoulders, and I’m instantly shivering from both fear and how painfully cold it is. So cold that my bones ache and my toes are numb.
He rips the fabric of my costume down my back, and I begin to sob as his fingers trace down the length of my spine, right over my scar. It’s still pitch-black in the room, so he must be able to see in the dark.
I wonder how clearly he can see the tears dripping down my cheeks.
“This mark–where did you get it?”
Sniffling, I tell him the truth. “I was born with it.”
