Page 51 of Death Comes for Her
I blinked, trying to tear my eyes from the necklace, but finding it impossible.
Nothing more than a golden orb dangling from a delicate chain. The round shape and etched design mimicked the sun. An odd warmth pulsed from the necklace, and a flush echoed through my body. It sang to me, louder than the drone of the music and the chattering onlookers.
“Nifty bit of magic, that. Took hundreds of years of research to figure it out. You fairies were always so stingy with your magic. Not that you have much magic left anymore without your wings, but you get the point.” His laughter wasn’t nice. He continued spinning us around the dancefloor without missing a beat with hundreds of years of experience, making him as graceful and practiced as a predator.
“You see, the story told is that I ate the sun—consumed it. I suppose in a way you could say that’s right. After all, fairy blood is liquid sunlight and I’ve drunk thousands of your kind. But no, I didn’t eat the fucking sun.” His chuckle was deranged, and his eyes were frenzied. “I harnessed magic to collect the embodying power of the sun—the essence of it, if you will. I made the sky bleed on the Everdark Morning and ravaged the fairy kingdomwhile wearing the sun around my neck. I did what no vampire ever could. I gave us the day.”
My insides quivered, curdling with sickening revulsion as he proudly told his tale. The bastard held me tight, bragging about what he stole, what he ruined, and it only kindled the burning rage in my core. Each beat of my heart pounded like the drums of war.
I grit my teeth, biting back every snarky, venomous remark searing a hole in my tongue. If only we were alone, if only there weren’t so many eyes on us… or perhaps I should take the risk, anyway. Not like I had a high chance of survival in the end.
I’d get the death I’d longed for. Reunited in the afterlife with my parents, and once I crossed beyond the veil, I could tell them I had done it. I had won, and I got our revenge.
Sanctus turned us and through the guests I spotted petrified hazel and blue eyes, gazing at me with apprehension. They were distressed because they cared, and that’s when I knew. I knew.
They loved me.
Despite their instinct, their urges, and their bloodlust. They saw me beyond my severed wings and the stimulating effects of my blood. Dante and Simon saw me for who I was beyond a name, a title, a trophy.
Their adoration galvanized me, enthralled me, and bolstered a newfound will to live within me. And I loved—
Sanctus interrupted my rambling thoughts, suddenly dipping me so low my hair brushed the marble tiles. My breath caught in my chest as he bowed over me, and pain tore through me as his fangs pierced my throat. A strangled cry leapt off my lips and tears blurred the edges of my vision.
A flood of venom coursed through my veins, burning, twisting, and wrenching me apart. But something about Sanctus’ venom curdled my blood, unlike any vampire bite before. Perhaps it was his age or the dark magic warping his soul, butthe potency of it went beyond an alluring drug and morphed into a nauseating concoction.
The undead leader made a show of drinking from me. He drank and drank and drank until my skull throbbed, my veins burned, and my limbs went limp. But still, despite the repulsive sickness in my blood, my body reacted to the arousing effects. Heat pooled in my belly, roiling with my disgust, and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to vomit up every ounce of my dinner.
“Sierra!”
“Sanctus, you’re draining her—”
Their voices shocked my floating subconscious back into my body. Pushing past the pain, Dante and Simon’s shouts grounded me at the moment, fortifying my resolve for what I needed to do.
Sanctus hummed against my neck, sucking and drinking every drop my body afforded. My hands dropped to my sides, hanging loose. One hand swung against my thigh.
All eyes in the room were so intently focused on Sanctus. His mouth on my neck, rivers of golden blood spilling from his jaw, across my shoulders and chest, drops of it splattering on the floor. No one paid attention to my swaying hand, where it shifted, what it removed, or that it wiggled between my body and the vampire against me.
He was hard against me, rocking his hips and grinding his growing erection into my body. Disgusting memories of Benjen taking advantage of me for years in the squalor of a barn flashed behind my eyes. And I was so tired of unwanted advances and needing to trade parts of myself just to survive.
I was going to take my survival, my fate, into my own hands.
My fingers curled around a gilded hilt. My arm rose higher, and Sanctus didn’t notice, too lost in the captivating essenceof my blood. I twisted my wrist, feeling finely sharpened steel meeting the resistance of flesh, bone, and sinew.
A breath hitched in Sanctus’ throat, followed by a strange gurgle. He gagged, and his fangs released my throat. Something cold, fluid, and sticky flowed over my fingers against his chest.
Silence snuffed out the excited chatter and animalistic growls. A stillness akin to ice settled over the room like a frozen lake in midwinter. Everything turned cold, frozen, and frighteningly calm.
Sanctus lifted his head, blood-red eyes glaring down at me. Golden droplets dripped down his chin, splashing over my parted lips. A strained hiss escaped his lips, and that was when I noticed black veins spreading along his face like sprouting spiderwebs.
Glass shattered nearby as someone dropped their drink. A woman’s gasp preceded a shrill, terrified scream.
The vampire’s arms trembled, no longer able to support my weight. He collapsed to his knees, reaching out for me. A thick, black liquid pouring up from the base of his throat replaced the golden blood on his mouth. His sickly pale skin turned gray, flaking apart like ash.
“That’s for my family and all the fairy blood you’ve ever spilled,” I spat.
On shaking legs, I rose higher, keeping my eyes on the vampire beneath me. My hand yanked away from Sanctus; fingers closed around the necklace, radiating warmth. I shot my other hand up, showing off the fairy dagger, my father’s dagger, coated in undead blood as dark as ink.
I spun in a circle, glaring at every vampire in the room, and shouted at the top of my lungs. “I am Princess Sierraphina Lorevain, and I have won the war!”
