Page 4 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
They always pluck out the eyeballs first. Ravens are highly intelligent and will work as a team to take down prey that’s too large for one bird alone. The several dozen surrounding Frederic strike as one. Claws and beaks slash, rip, devour. Frederic screams as he’s torn apart bit by fleshy bit. My devilish helpers have been taught to savor their meals. They feed around the vital organs, saving them for last. The birds block my sight from their communal feast, but I have a good idea what’s happening.
Frederic’s guttural, tongueless screams fall silent. They must have pulled out his throat.
The minutes pass and the birds settle down. They sweep out the window, leaving Frederic still splayed out, now a perfectly excised skeleton. Such a beautiful sight.
I snap my fingers again and the vines disappear, retracting back into the earth and taking the bones of the worthless man before me. Silence blankets the room as the ground closes, sealing him up tight.
My work here is done. But am I to return to my dark domain so soon? I know what awaits me there. An empty obsidian throne amongst the screams of the dead. Tortured cries that once filled me with great fervor, now leave me feeling as empty as the rattling, rotting bones of my latest victim. The steadythump, thump, thumpthat foolishly resides in my nearly vacant rib cage has me staring at the ceiling until madness melds with the serpentine dreams that stay just out of my reach. A dark, twisted heart is all that connects me to the humans that dominate my days and nights.
The cool night breeze whisks past me, bringing with it the scents of a nearby garden. Roses, jasmine, so many flowers these humans seem to enjoy tending. I breathe in again and catch another scent—subtle, sweet, tinged with poison. It belongs to atiny white flower that has sent more than a few to their untimely deaths.Lily of the Valley.It is a scent I did not expect to find here.
A dark stone path leads me out of my current quarters and into a grand courtyard. The ostentatious display of fragrant blossoms and garish topiaries is all but absurd.
Roseheart. The Kingdom of Flowers.
It’s been several decades since I’ve personally claimed a soul on these lands. The people here surround themselves with bright, living things.
It makes no difference. Death will come for them all the same.
A gentle layer of icy flurries sparkles beneath the light of the waning moon, sealing the lush garden in its temporary frost. The winter months are short in this land, but harsh nonetheless. How do the gardens remain in bloom? None can be sure, though rumors speak of the Queen of Roseheart, Elowynne, and her unusual gifts with herbs and blossoms. I’m inclined to believe the rumors. There is a subtle hum of magic all around this place.
I emerge from beneath a trellis of winding yellow jasmine and into an ornate courtyard. The centermost feature is a stone-laden well that looks to be as old as the castle itself. A soft light glows from the far side, signaling a person is crouched behind the water feature. What business does a human have hiding out in a castle courtyard on a freezing winter night? My approach is silent as I round the small circle. The figure comes into view and my steps falter.
It’s a young woman. It’s difficult for me to decipher human ages, but if I had to make an assumption, I’d say about twenty. She sits cross-legged with her back to the well. She holds something in her hands. Without warning, she throws her head back, releasing a frustrated sigh.
A soft radiance glows around her. She’s beautiful. Her youthful face is as pale and luminous as the moon above. The fairness of her skin is tinged by a deepening pink that colors her cheeks and nose where the cold has been biting at her skin. A soft, rounded mouth parts, allowing puffs of breath to materialize in front of her.
My gaze sweeps along her form. Her light is shining, but not as bright as I’d like it to be. How long will it be before her natural death comes to pass? I will never again defile the natural order of things by reaping a soul too soon, but something within me longs to see her in my kingdom of night.
A fresh cloud of steam spills from her open mouth as she exhales into her palms, warming the stiff flesh and the object within. Her fingers are shaky as she lowers them, hovering them above the frozen ground. My wonder and curiosity about this strange woman grow as I realize the mysterious object is actually a small bird. She sets it down. The tiny creature lies lifeless between the garden stones. Magic saturates the air, and that sweet, deadly aroma drifts along my senses. There’s something different about the fragrance, something that’s all her. My lungs expand as I drown my airways in the scent of the beauty before me. I inhale again and again, unable to get enough. “Fucking intoxicating.”
A moment later, she stills. Her face tilts up to where I stand and a spot in my chest begins to ache. Her irises shine a startling blue. Not deep like the sea, or vivid like the sky, but intensely cool like a flame flickering off pale blue glass. I’ve never seen such eyes. My lips part as I fall into the alluring depths of those unusual eyes.
Her gaze narrows.Can she see me?My shadows instinctively close rank, shielding me from sight.
I’m overreacting. She isn’t close to death. She cannot see me.
“Who’s there?” Her voice is rich and smoky. She turns her head, searching the area around her. The hair that falls across her elegant face is as black as the shadows that unfurl at my command. The long strands shine like a raven’s feather, all but one small strip. The unusual piece of hair runs from her scalp and down either side of her face. Unlike the rest of her dark hair, this piece is as white as snow.
Those ghostly blue eyes seem to pierce the darkness, shooting through my defenses. She rises to her feet. “Show yourself.” Her voice is more forceful this time. What a brave little mortal.
The strangest desire takes root in my ribs. The desire to show her myself, every part, the man and monster. My shadows waver. No mortals have seen me and lived to see the next sunrise.
I shouldn’t. The thought of those glassy eyes seeing me, really seeing me, unlocks a new level of need within me.
“Lenore?” a woman’s voice calls from the balcony. My shadows tighten around me. “Who are you talking to?”
Lenore. The name drags across my thoughts, my tongue flicking against my palate as I silently repeat it, leaving behind an unforgettable memory trail that’s equal parts tragedy and beauty.
“No one, Mother,” Lenore calls back, her eyes still scouring the garden.
“Well then, it is time to come inside. Princesses should not spend their time in the gardens at night.Alone. Where are your guards?”
Princess, is it?Everything clicks into place. But why is the youngest royalty of Roseheart spending her nights tending to forgotten creatures?
Lenore’s lips quirk up in a mischievous half smile. “Probably still outside my door.”
The woman sucks in a breath. “Lenore Lillet Roseheart. Tell me you didn’t climb out the window again.”
