Queen of Gods (Vampire Crown #1)
Scarlett Dawn & Katherine Rhodes
Ras Ouanoukrim, Morocco
Atlas Mountains
Blood is life.
Without blood, we are nothing.
Without life, there is no blood.
Blood is life.
Every child knew the truth of that from the moment of birth. Whether suckling at their mother’s breast or taking their first taste from the vein, it was ingrained in all of them.
Blood is life.
Life began again, not as a roar but as a trickle, almost a tickle to the subconscious. I wanted to dismiss it as a dream my body wanted me to have. I tried to will it away. It was too soon. I was still tired. I was still owed years of sleep.
The trickle turned to a stream. Deciding that the flow calmed the soul, I went with it, riding along, still drifting through the Rest. Falling over the rocks, slipping by the deep pools of my mind, I followed. I allowed it to carry me.
The stream became a river. I could not deny that my Rest was coming to an end. It was too early. I was too far away from blood. If I woke alone, with no chance for life, I would go mad. I would ravage anyone nearby, and sing and dance with their existence coating my skin a deep garnet.
The river became rapids. Violent, uncaring, channeled toward just one end. I became aware of things. The long, cold stone my body rested on. The smell of must and dust. The utter darkness that surrounded me. The feeling of death, the chill of old bones and desecrated humans in the room.
Blood is life.
I awoke from my Rest.
A scream tore from my throat, the desperate sensation of hunger ripping through my stomach, my heart, my fangs. I was awake. Years before I should have been and the blood madness was taking a firm hold quickly.
Climbing, demented and nearly naked, from the altar I was on, I crawled to where I had discarded the last of the humans I had fed on before the Rest took hold.
Bones. No blood.
I snapped one open, hoping for marrow.
Only dust.
The crypt door was shut, but opening it was nothing for the strength the madness lent me. I shoved, hard, and the stone door moved smoothly to the side.
A stream of light slammed into the back of my eyes and I could see nothing. Like a feral cat in the light of a hunter’s sights, I scurried to a corner, welcoming back the dark and cool. I huddled there, in the grip of insanity, not knowing what to do.
A whisper not my own, “Christ.”
A lamb…a lamb has come. I waited.
Light followed the swear word and passed over me. The figure of a woman, dressed as a Bedouin, rushed forward. She smelled healthy, full of blood I could use.
I hissed, dropping my fangs.
Quickly rushed words, “Gwynnore. Don’t. It’s me, Adelie. I’m here, my friend.”
Who? No matter. She was a lamb.
I lunged, wrapping my hands around her neck and pulling her down.
“Gwen, stop. Stop.” She struggled inside my hold.
My fangs itched, aching to taste the red, warm life as it flowed around them. “Thirsty.”
“It’s coming, Gwen. It’s on the way.”
Some part of my hunger-addled brain recognized her. “Adelie.”
Not…
Not a lamb.
“Yes, it’s me.”
With hard drawn breaths, I could feel the death rattle in my chest. I had to drink. Soon.
I sniffed at the air around her head.
“Bring them forth, Adelie. Bring them.” My voice gave out at the end. I could smell… life.
More life than just her.
I peered toward the entrance of the cave. “Thirst—”
“They’ll be here in a minute. They’re all here for you. All of them, all of their memories, all of their blood.”
“Lambs…”
“…to your slaughter.” She grinned, her fangs gleaming and healthy. “Stay here. Stay hidden. Until I come back for you.”
I watched, unmoving.
Adelie moved to the cave entrance and enthusiastically waved outside, at someone. No, someones. I could feel them, more than one. A moment later, the first of the humans climbed in and looked around, and they began making quick work of filling the cave.
I started to tremble.
I needed them, and I needed them now.
“Someone opened the crypt for us,” Adelie said, cheerfully. “We can set up camp right in this cave.”
“Was it cranked open or broken?” said one of the hikers. The individual…looked strange to me.
“It’s in one piece. Let’s go in. We’ve been running ahead of that storm for hours. The rain won’t hold off much longer.” Adelie turned and called to the group that had assembled. “Into the crypt, everyone! There’s going to be a storm, and we want to be as far away as possible.”
Without question, the whole group walked in. Smiling the whole time, my wonderful best friend had brought me nearly twenty-five warm bodies full of blood, of life. I stayed dead still until she walked over to me and offered me a hand.
“They are all yours.”
“All?
“Yes. All of them.” She wasn’t taking any.
I darted into the crypt with the last of my energy.
Adelie shoved the door closed behind me.
Not one of those humans would be able to open it.
The high-pitched shouts started right away. The humans couldn’t see a thing. There was no light. There was only blood pumping and shaking breaths and screams and terror. It was beautiful. My lambs—all mine.
I started with the young boy, barely this side of puberty with a scraggly beard and rich, rich blood. I held his throat to keep the shriek quiet and drove my fangs into his neck. With the first swallows of my first meal in nearly three hundred years, the fog in my brain started to lift. The knowledge this child held was siphoned off with his life, and it was all mine to take and remember. I discarded his personal crap. I took only the history and events of the time during my Rest.
Time and again I struck. Draining all I could from the first six victims, I then took just enough to render the rest unable to fight me. I was going to enjoy the rest of my meal.
Blood is life.
*
Dripping crimson stained my face. And it couldn’t be any sweeter.
I stared down at the lambs brought before me. My mind churned with the memories I had stolen from each human. So much knowledge. So many differences in the world since I had lain down for my magical Rest two hundred years ago.
Correction. Almost two hundred years ago.
‘Almost’ was the keyword there.
I had been woken early. And from the horrid churning in my stomach, I knew it was because of the overlords. Only they had the power to pull me to them.
And I wanted to see the vampire rulers. Desperately.
The urge to run day and night to stand before them made my skin itch.
Or perhaps that was the dust covering my pale flesh.