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Category:
Fantasy
Publisher: Isaiyan Morrison
ISBN-10: 069257025X
Type: Fiction
Pages: 328
Copyright: Feb 11, 2016
ISBN-13: 9780692570258
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
No one is safe. Not even the supernatural baddies who hide in the shadows of their dark underworld.
The death of prominent Deamhan elders has left a gaping hole in their society.
Amenirdis, the Queen of Limbo and the Dark Mother of Deamhan, is now loose in the world. Her plans for total annihilation of her kind rests on the blood of Maris and the Dark Curse tablet.
News of her release has also awaken the Dorvo Coven; vampires who consider themselves the arch enemies of Deamhan. One in particular hunts for the Dark Curse tablet with a means to exterminate every Deamhan on the face of the planet. In order to do so she must collect the broken Dark Curse tablet and the blood of Maris.
However, there are some Deamhan who won’t go down without a fight.
No one is safe. Not even the supernatural baddies who hide in the shadows of their dark underworld.
Excerpt
In reaction, he felt his eyes turn. In response, she snarled with her mouth open wide and her fangs fully extended. He heard a whooshing sound and soon three vampires, who had caught wind of the growing altercation, stood behind her, ready to join in the attack.
The door to the VIP burst open. “No fighting in my establishment.”
Somehow Lambert’s voice brought an end to the vampires’ show of strength. The ones that jumped to Alexis’ side, now looking defeated, wandered off. She retracted her fangs and stood tall, regaining her composure.
“That goes for Deamhan too,” Lambert said.
Remy made his eye color return to normal. “We’re not fighting. Just sorting out our differences.” He looked over his shoulder, staring at Lambert who stood on the top stair.
There was something about that vampire that Remy found respectable and almost attractive. The way he took control of the chaos, the way he put his foot down—he didn’t tolerate any disobedience and he demanded respect without having to resort to pugilistic spectacles. Nathan admired him and considered him a trustworthy friend.
Then again, what did humans know when it came to all things vampire?
“Alexis, make sure that the workers bring up the remaining alcohol from the basement.” And with that, Lambert walked back into the VIP room, leaving the door opened for his Deamhan visitor.
Remy returned his gaze to Alexis, lifting his eyebrows quickly to signal that he had won against her threat.
The majority of the time, Lambert took the side of Deamhan. He saw the anger in her face, which he found oddly enough, pleasantly attractive, in a sadistic kind of way. “Let’s continue this some other time.” He waved and proceeded up the steps.
“Let’s not,” she replied.
He continued to climb the steps. “Don’t get mad at me, love. This is all your consort’s doing.”
“Yeah, like he wanted you to be here. All you Deamhan are the same. Annoying little-”
“You're so cute,” —he smiled— “thinking that you can harm me with big words.” He entered the VIP room and closed the door behind him.
Lambert stood near the large, paned windows, viewing the club down below. In the corner, sprawled on a leather couch, Remy saw a human woman, barely alive, with her neck covered in puncture wounds. Speckles of blood littered the glass table in front of her.
“You must excuse Alexis.” Lambert clasped his hands together behind his back. Wearing tight-fitting dark pants and a white wife-beater, his eyes remained forward.
“No worries, my vampire friend. I’m used to her behavior by now.”
“So why are you here this early in the evening?”
“I miss you?” His joke fell on deaf ears. “Well, actually, I need some information and maybe some money.”
“Money? For what?”
“To spend!” He backtracked and walked around the small enclosure, examining every corner and crevasse.
“What makes you think I have any to give?”
He smirked. “You’re rich. You have money to give.”
“As do you.”
“Not as much as you have. I need more.”
“Again, I ask, for what?”
“Oh, you know. Shopping, buying things for my room, travel expenses.”
“Travel expenses? You’re leaving Minneapolis?”
“Not exactly. Well...” Remy paused. “How can I say this?”
“Just say it.”
“I’m taking a vacation trip to San Diego. All expenses paid by you, of course.”
“Excuse me?”
Remy made his way over to the woman and he bent down in front of her. “Can I have the rest?” He remembered that he hadn’t fed for the night and, by viewing her, his hunger pangs began.
“Why San Diego?”
“I’ve never been there.”
“But, San Diego?”
“You know why.”
“Humor me.”
Remy placed his hand underneath the woman’s chin, opening her mouth just enough to see her tonsils. “I’ll give you a moment to think about it...while I eat.” It was one thing to drink blood but another to drink the essence, the psychic energy of a living thing. For a Lamia Deamhan, like himself, it kept him youthful. His victim’s energy replenished his own, filling his body with the strength and warmth he needed to keep his body from rotting away. It kept him alive, it kept him immortal just like blood to a vampire. When he finished and opened his eyes, the soul of the human departed, leaving behind shriveled skin and sunken eyes.
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