Bloody Kisses

“I can’t see what’s coming now.”


“You don’t have to see. Leave that to me. Just hold on.” Adam had never understood what it was like to hold something he found precious. He was careful with the antiques in the castle, he was aware of the power in his body, the strength. He knew he had to be careful with small things, but this was different.

He didn’t have the words to explain it.

Yes, she was definitely enough to cause him to believe in the divine because it would take the hand of such a being to wrest her from him now that he had her.

She was so soft, but he didn’t he didn’t get the sense that she was fragile. Perhaps human, breakable in a singular way that only humans were, but she was strong, too. She didn’t need coddling, didn’t need saving. Not really.

Adam tried to quell the disappointment he felt. If he was honest with himself, there was part of him that wanted to be her knight. Her savior. It was a role he’d hated and despised, but resented for all of her ancestors since his birth.

But for her, he wanted to fulfill his purpose.

He couldn’t, because she didn’t need him.

Taking a revenant’s head from his body with a one-handed swing of the ax told him that maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

She turned her face against his chest and hung on tight.

Adam felt guilty he was so aware of her—of the way her body fit against his. He’d been with prostitutes, but he’d always had to pay them extra and it was always from behind. None of them had ever wanted to look at his face or his scars.

He’d stopped paying for pleasure when he’d stopped trying to be human. He wasn’t like them; he wasn’t like anyone. He could find the same pleasures with his hand. The warm, soft flesh wasn’t worth the price he had to pay—not in coins, or in his dignity. Even a woman who sold her body as a product didn’t want to do business with him.

That was telling when a hungry mouth and an outstretched hand would withdraw when he passed.

Fuck, but he was twisted up in all the crap he’d thought he’d let go of so long ago. She brought back so many ugly things.

But beautiful things, too.

The arc of the ax as it delivered a swift and deserved death, once upon a dark time, it had been his weapon of choice.

And the memory of a woman’s body, her sweet lemon scent… Damn, but he loved lemons. He loved them because they were bright and sour. He loved them because in their unvarnished, unprocessed state, they were unpalatable to so many.

But he loved them.

He took head after head with his ax as he fought his way back to the outside. He should’ve already worked his way through the staff and inhabitants. Adam knew in his gut there were more people, more subjects, at the installation than what Elizabeth or anyone else was aware of.

Otherwise, he’d have stayed and cleaned up their mess, but he couldn’t risk exposing Elizabeth.

They moved through the security gates and out into the open forest. It felt wrong to him to be running away from their only method of escape. Some enterprising undead might have enough muscle memory to remember how to operate the damn thing.

Some of them were talking, there was awareness in those dead eyes.

For a second, he’d felt a twinge of remorse at killing them, because for these single moments, he wasn’t alone in the world. There were others like him—not living, not dead, and had once been human.

If the master directive to protect the bloodline hadn’t been instilled in him, he wasn’t sure if he’d have killed any of them.

Strange images of a world where he was king played in his mind, but he didn’t stop running, didn’t stop fighting.

There was something unspoken between them. She didn’t have to verbalize where she wanted him to go. Somehow, he just knew. He pushed as hard as he could and covered the ground so fast, it was like he was flying. Adam never felt the earth touch his feet.

He didn’t breathe and the twin hearts beating in his chest never changed their steady rhythm. Adam slowed when he saw the edge of a cliff approaching. There was no more ground, only the sea beyond.

When they stopped, she looked up at him. “Did we make it?”

He eased her to her feet. “I’m here. At the picture in your mind. Now, where do we go?”

Elizabeth looked around and for a moment, seemed lost, but he watched as she squared her shoulders and then sank to her knees, digging in the dirt for something.

“What are you looking for?”

“The lever. There’s a staircase down to the cave.”

“That doesn’t seem very bright.” Not that anyone asked him.

“It can be deactivated once we’re inside.” She pulled a lever and the sharp sound of creaking metal pierced the air. “Look, there.” She pointed toward the edge of the cliff.

A gleaming metal staircase had emerged. From where, he wasn’t sure. It seemed as if it had materialized from nowhere.

“I remembered. Oh, thank god.”

“Again, I don’t think god had anything to do with it.”

Virginia Nelson, Saranna DeWylde, Rebecca Royce, Alyssa Breck, Ripley Proserpina's books