“Well, that ruined it.”
Her expression didn’t change, though a glint of laughter sparked in Runeak’s coal eyes.
Pride himself couldn’t leave it alone.“I almost had you.”
The edge of Runeak’s lips twitched again.“You did not, Eldest.”
Saer snarled, and his sister angled her head to the side in a fine tilt.“After you heal, train with my soldiers.”
“Why in the Hells would I waste my time with that?”
“I want a challenge at our rematch.”
In his days spent with Runeak’s encampment, Saer learned more about her blood drinkers, though they might as well be labeled the damned, in his opinion, for the price they’d pay in exchange for immortality.Others referred to them as vampires.Alive in some ways, dead in others.
They had been presented to her as a resource and gift, and represented a new creation from their maker who imbued them with their powers.The non-humans were adept at stealth, making them perfect spies for Runeak’s position as a war leader.As part of their connection to Lucifer, they remained immune to the burning properties ofDaemoenicablood and—in fact—their blood equivocated to a drug for their kind, or perhaps a very fine and luxurious spirit.The loyalty and balance Runeak achieved with her vampiric followers rose from an agreement to provide them with consensual tastes, straight from her arteries.
The blood drinkers could thin the ranks of her opponents with ease, but their true value lay in convincing humans on either side of the conflict to join their ranks—if they could be coerced to undergo the change.The more who took the oath, the more guaranteed souls Lucifer procured.
Saer had nearly recovered from his battle with Runeak, and the pair resumed a familiar routine they’d known prior to his years with Neyu—plotting alongside Wrath in her war room, strategizing for the greatest victory.The itch to chase down Errshek persisted.Runeak wanted him to train with her men, but he couldn’t be hampered.The instant he came to full strength, he’d resume his quest to find the Twins.Another day.Perhaps two.
The knowledge Runeak already possessed of war and combat had only expanded.Runeak exhibited astounding cleverness in the arts of offense and defense.Maneuverability and security.Surprise and simplicity.She commanded without any doubt of her subordinates following orders.
He’d hate to find himself on the other side of her ministrations.
Angry footsteps thudded outside Runeak’s war tent.A rustled sound of struggling.The flap pulled back to reveal a pair of blood drinkers dragging a bound and gagged man.
The restrained enemy spy was thrust on the floor of the general’s tent.He couldn’t have been more than twenty human years.
The young man’s gaze held both terror and pleading, as though he knew his end neared.His gaze darted between Saer and Runeak, finding little solace in their impassive stares.Sweat dripped from his brow, dampening his dark hair and carving streaks into his dirt-coated cheeks.
Saer raised a brow and angled his gaze to Runeak.Her territory, her mission, and therefore her call.He wouldn’t aid in her harvests, but also didn’t intend to stand in her way.
She didn’t spare him a glance, addressing her blood drinkers while she fixed her predatory focus on the captured spy.“Can he be turned?”
Turned to their side of the fight, Saer assumed.
“He is willing to take the oath.”
Or...
Runeak offered a curt nod and waved her hand in dismissal.“Drain him.”
Drain him?
Before Saer could ask the question aloud, the vampires each dove for a side of the young man’s throat, and he screamed.The sound cut off after their fangs sank past skin, and blood flowed.
His shriek melted into a groan.
A rich, decadent rush of flavor slid over the back of Saer’s tongue from out of nowhere—unexpected.He growled and shook his head, taking a step from the scene.
What in all the Hells?
Saer cleared his throat, attempting to rid it of the taste, though he couldn’t say it was bothersome in truth.Unforeseen, certainly.Though not unpleasant.
Quite the opposite.
Pleasant.
