Page 67 of House of Crimson Hearts
Thankfully, Mother continues.
“I’ve asked you all here to formally start the trials. To welcome you and thank you for your continued willingness to participate in this joint venture. I appreciate that this is a very unorthodox situation. We are not used to working together. But this is, I hope, a fresh start. An opportunity for us to wipe the slate clean and begin again.”
Lord Berkeley, one of Mother’s least preferred nobles on the vampire council, stands up in the seats. He’s tall, bald and sinewy, but what really makes him stand out is his beard. There aren’t many vampires who keep a beard; it’s too messy.
Lord Berkeley screams, “This is a joke. You’re a disgrace to vampires everywhere. You’re the one who led us to this point and now you renege? You fucking hypocrite.”
He launches a glass bottle full of blood at the stage, and of course, because of his strength, it flies the entire way across the ballroom and smashes against the lectern.
Chaos erupts as the scent of human blood thickens in the air. All of the hunters stand simultaneously, each one of them drawing stakes, blades and knives.
“Shit,” Xavier says.
He’s about to launch into action when Mother leaps from the stage, springing up and flying halfway across the ballroom. She jumps again and lands right on top of Lord Berkeley.
Her fangs sink into his throat.
His eyes bug wide. He tries to grip her shoulders. But she’s wrapped her legs around his waist, and he only has one arm free. He squirms and shoves trying to push her off.
The vampires around them lean back, edging away. The nobles would jump to his defence if it were anyone else attacking him. But this is Cordelia, and her word is law. They stare, slack-jawed and silent.
Lord Berkeley lets out a garbled cry.
He coughs, choking out another screech, then his face pales to grey and blood dribbles out the corner of his mouth. He sags back into his seat with Cordelia still clinging to him.
A moment later she detaches from his throat, throwing her head back and gasping for air. She stands; Lord Berkeley slumps in his chair.
Mother snarls, then she punches her fist right through his chest and rips his heart out.
Black veins splinter across his face and down his neck as his skin shrivels and wrinkles into desiccation. Give him an hour and there’ll be nothing left of him but the ashy remains of his outfit. It’s an ugly affair and to have been ashed so publicly is deeply embarrassing. I feel for his heirs.
Still holding the heart, Cordelia steps off the stands and leaps into the air, making the same jumps back across the ballroom. Her outfit is a mess of dark blood, it’s smeared across her face and dribbling down her neck.
She doesn't even attempt to wipe it clean—something I suspect she does for effect. Back behind the lectern, she raises his heart and takes a noisy bite. Blood trickles out of the flopping arteries.
She swallows and lets the heart fall to the floor. “Does anyone else have anything they’d like to say before we begin?” she says into the mic.
It’s the most silent the ballroom has been.
Chapter18
Everyone can see through this pathetic shamble of a ceremony. Lord Berkeley just said what every vampire in here was thinking.
Dissent. Chaos. Mutiny.
They will fester in your ranks, and I will sprinkle them with turmoil and watch as your own kin slowly poison your ranks, seeding disloyalty and instability.
These partnerships are a shambles. You could have the strongest vampires in the city, the sharpest hunters. It won’t matter.
I’m coming for you.
I’m coming for your children.
I’m coming for what you stole from me.
And piece by piece I will dismantle your reign and take everything you care about.
I’ve been planning this for far too long to falter now.
