Can my Loreblood really be the answer to her problems? Can it sever the connection to her vampiric master enough to bring her humanity back to light? To give her warmth when regarding her whelps, rather than cold disregard and terror?
If it can, then this is groundbreaking. I imagine Keffa and Jinneth both realize it, which is why they are here to overlook the goings-on.If this . . .testtruly succeeds, then I am a more powerful weapon than we even realized. I am a defense against the blight that consumes both cities.
It’s no wonder Alacine Mortis wants me so badly. I can’t even fathom what a cunning, diabolical bitch like her could use my blood for.Control, of course. Evermore power.
I’ve wanted to make a difference my entire life. To save Nuhav from their vampiric overlords and, in recent times, to change the entire society of the bloodsuckers in Olhav, where I will assist Skartovius in reshaping the city in his vision.
Thiscan be the difference, I recognize.If it works, then by the spirits and deities, it can blossom into something great.I just never expected my great revolution to begin in the dreary, well-cracked confines of a dingy house owned by perpetually maligned women.Fitting, I suppose. The women of the Chained Sisters are the foremost tarnished among both cities, the foremost wounded, and therefore deserve justice more than anyone else.
My fingers stiffen on the parchment I hold in my free hand. Staring at the names, committing them to memory. Scowling at them. I don’t recognize any of the vampires or humans, and I’m thankful for that. It doesn’t matter if I know them. I will find them.
Iron Sister Keffa, the painter of the giant naked portrait of my mother, is something of an artist. She spent two hours sketching rough drawings in ink under each of the six names, her drawings based on what Cyprilis remembered of their faces. Now I have tiny portraits to fit each bastard, which will make finding them easier.
Justice begins with this list.
“That’s enough, girl,” Jinneth says in a scolding tone.
Though my thoughts have run wild, Cyprilis only drank from me for around thirty seconds. Just like that, the moment is over, and Garroway gently pulls Cy’s gasping face away from my arm.
I hide the bloody smear so Cy isn’t enticed to try drinking more, and wrap a bandage around the small wound. When I stand up from the cot, a wave of dizziness passes through me before I can steady my feet. I look down at Cyprilis, whose eyes are bright with vigor.
“Should I . . . feel anything yet?” Cyprilis asks, imploring the room with a wide stare.
Garroway chuckles, patting her bony shoulder. “It will take some time, lass. You must be patient. I have no doubt youwillfeel it in time. You’ll know.”
I nod down at the vampiress. “I will return every night for a week, until we see changes. That is my promise to you, Sister Cyprilis.”
I am not doing this because I pity you. I am doing this because I feel an innate urge for vengeance on your behalf.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
Jinneth and Keffa are left inspecting the vampiress to make sure she’s all right and relatively unchanged. I take Garroway’s hand and move for the door—
Halting when it flies open on rattling hinges.
Vallan Stellos takes up the entire frame, and then some. My eyes flash wide at the expression on his face, the violence with which he’s entered.
He lookswrong. There’s no other way to describe it. Vallan has perfected the indifference on his flat, handsome mug. But through the beard and mannerisms I’ve become acquainted to over time, I’ve learned a thing or two about this giant vampire.
There’s rage below the surface on his face, expertly hidden from anyone not knowing what to look for.
“Vall?” I eke out.
His eyes zero in on the bandage around my wrist. He takes in the room, the inhabitants, and lands on Cyprilis swiping away droplets of blood from her lips.
Then he sniffs the air and I know he cansmellit.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” he demands.
I flare my nostrils, instantly defiant. “Nothing you need worry yourself with.”
Garroway, the damned dunce who can never stop himself, says, “Our little honey badger is helping a friend, is all, Vallan. What’s got your beard in a knot?”
“Nothing,” he snarls, and I know it’s more than nothing.Muchmore. “What’s that?” He nods his chin to the paper in my hand.
Garroway begins, “Awful inquisitive, aren’t you—”
“It’s a list of people we’re going to kill,” I answer matter-of-factly.
