Page 1 of Wicked Thirst
CHAPTER ONE
TITUS
1000 years ago
“How dare you summon me.” I ground my teeth together and spoke through thinned lips. I fought to stifle the growl that rumbled deep in my chest, then motioned to the gathering of rulers who’d been forced to this field in the dead of winter. “How dare you summon usallhere!”
Outrage flowed through my veins, and I curled my hands into fists at my sides, barely resisting the urge to draw the sword from my hip. My blood magic floated around my fingers like a fine red mist. Yet I held my power at bay. A single move in one direction or another could start a war of epic consequences—a war the vampire kingdom was not ready to undertake, especially not against her. Standing here was like standing with the tip of a sword to my chest and a knife to my back, one wrong move and one would end up with a blade through the heart.
This gathering was overflowing with the most powerful leaders in Evermore. Magic hung heavy around us. I felt it run over my skin like a thick film. The sun had long since set and the temperature had cooled to a wintery chill. The moon shined bright on us all, turning the surrounding forest and open field into shadows blanketed in hues of blue. The grass was flattened into brown patches and the winter frost had set in. It crunched under my boots, and though this was not England, I had no idea where I’d been transported to. The lingering scent of snow drifted through the air and yet the weather dared not disturb her desires on this night. With every breath I took, fog blew from my lips. If I hadn’t been wrapped in furs, the cold would’ve seeped into my skin, chilling me to the bone.
“How dare I?” Dracinda pressed her hand to her chest and smirked. She batted her eyelashes, playing coy, yet her undertone was clear. She was not one to be trifled with. “Do not court my wrath, vampire.”
I let loose the growl I’d been holding back. “Do not court mine, Dracinda.”
Dracinda was the most powerful witch to walk the Earth and the most beautiful, with her long silvery hair and huge blue eyes. She was comely in ways that would tempt even the most honorable of men to fall to her wiles. Rumor had it that she had indeed done just that many times over. She, along with her sister, Danna, performed the most powerful of spells. Powerful . . . but terrible. They’d been a scourge on the land, and now they’d done the most impossible of all: summoned us unwillingly.
I stood among all eight of The Fallen, the angels destined to rule all of Evermore. The entire supernatural world answered to them, and they ruled with a harsh swiftness, meting out justice with the strength of their fists and the edges of their blades. When dealing with The Fallen, I’d learned there were no second chances. Each of them was adorned in full battle gear. Leather straps held their breastplates in place, weapons covered their bodies, and anger rolled off them in waves. Even in the dark of night, their hulking black wings were shadows against the sky.
Matteaus, their leader, stood at my side. He was slightly bigger than me, with a muscular physique, wild blondish-brown hair, and an angular jawline. His sapphire eyes blazed with fury as he gazed at the woman before us. He rested his hand on the dagger at his hip. I had no doubt there were many more hidden among his leather armor. “Your sins against Evermore are many.”
“It takes a sinner to know one, is that it? Or has your ego allowed you the role of creator as well?” Her face turned stone-cold as she turned to Tristan, the member of The Fallen with influence over all forms of love. “I’d forgotten it was your hubris that brought you to your knees and earned you your fallen black wings. Do not dare to scold me of sins, for there are many among us all.”
Tristan lowered his gaze to meet her eyes. His wings twitched and black feathers fell to the ground around his feet. He ran his hand through the long strands of his blond hair. Where Matteaus was tall and muscular, Tristan was trim and fit with long, lean muscle. When his gaze met hers, his breath left him, and for a moment I saw a man tormented by his own cravings. His eyes softened when he met her gaze, and he lowered his voice to a near whisper, “Dracinda, please don’t.”
She gave him a withering smile and backed away. Her long hair flowed down her body and caught the light of the moon, giving her that ethereal look that would bring any man to his knees. She had the appearance of heaven but was made of sin. When he looked away from her, she turned from him to stroll within the circle of those she’d summoned. We all stood equidistant apart, separated by floating balls of fire between us. They flickered and danced like torches, yet there were no wooden stakes holding them up. Smoke and embers drifted up into the sky and disappeared.
Her hair fanned out around her as she spun to face him once more. Her dark-purple cloak hung from her shoulders down to the ground where it pooled at her feet. “Don’t what, lover? Don’t tell the truth? Don’t see fault in the way things are done? I recall at one time you all saw fault in the way things were done.”
“And have been cursed since. We’ve seen the error in our ways. ‘Tis not too late for you.” Pain flickered over Tristan’s face at the reminder of how their own fate came to be.
“I see no error, lover, only the weakness of men and their cowardice in the lack of tenacity to fight for one’s beliefs.” She cupped his cheek. “I find disappointment in how accepting you all are of the lot you’ve been meted out.”
His face turned stone-cold. “I find disappointment in the lack of compassion you show others.”
She chuckled and spread her arms wide, giving him a devilish smile. “It’s a hard life . . . I make the most of it.”
So, the rumors are true.The witch entangled herself with one of The Fallen.I arched my eyebrows toward Tristen. When he glared at me, I turned my eyes back toward the witch. No use making an enemy of one of The Fallen. A man could only do so much when faced with his own passions, even if those passions were poisonous to the soul.
Dracinda was indeed a poison. She spun in a circle and smirked. “You all have an opportunity before you.”
Alataris, the newly crowned King of the Witch Court, snickered. “What opportunity could possibly interest us?”
Her unwavering gaze locked on his. Interest flickered deep in her eyes as she sauntered toward him. Her long purple cloak dragged over the ground with each step she took. It was a slow, enticing seduction of a lad who was not prepared to confront a woman of her particular talents. “Such a young, ambitious king would surely be in need of a favor from one such as myself.”
He was a young king. It was apparent in his smoothed-back dark hair and the soft planes in his still boyish features. Alataris was tall and slim with sharp features that showed even in the dark of night. His black cloak hung from his shoulders to just past his knees. He wore no armor nor held any weapons. It made me question how ready he was for the role of King. Evermore was a wonderful yet dangerous place to roam unprotected. He’d only been placed on the throne through the mysterious downfall of his long-reigning parents.
His lips turned up in a smirk. “My only ambition is to see my people prosper.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Indeed. That is your ambition, and you’ll accomplish it . . . by any means necessary.”
His smile faltered for a moment when he glanced around at the rest of us, then he shoved it back into place. “I am nothing like you.”
“Time reveals all. You’ll do well to remember that.” She winked at Alataris as though she knew a secret we all didn’t, yet he didn’t respond to her words or react at all. She turned to all of us. “Still, my troubles remain the same and you all have the option to help me solve them. In exchange, I will grant your people peace from myself and Danna.”
“Your word is worth nothing among the honorable.” I didn’t bother leaving the venom from my voice.
She spun on me, and her long cloak billowed out around her. “This would be binding.”
