Название: Aris Reigns: The Kingdom of Vampires
Автор: Devin Morgan
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Зарубежная фантастика
isbn: 9780990515609
isbn:
A huge thank you to Sheri and Jake Faller for all the Sunday afternoon trips with me to the Catacombs and a special thank you to Sheri for all the beautiful food she makes sure I eat while I’m working.
Thank you to Rik Vig (a brother of choice) for all the amazing support he has given to me through the years and the beautiful graphic designs that he has created for me.
Thank you to Judy and Richard Sherman for their advice, support, love and the laughter and teasing when I become too serious.
Thank you to Robin, Ryan and Dylan Rogers for their huge hearts and all the hours they spend listening to me talk about Aris.
Thank you to all my students who support me with such love and confidence in anything that I do.
Thank you to all the wonderful people who make Broadthink such a great publishing house. Each and every one of them has been a part of “The Infinity Diaries Trilogy.”
His back was stiff, his stride furious as he paced in front of Sarah, eyes daring her to look away. “I have been many men to you. DeMarco from your human life and De Flores, the vampire King whom your Immortals fear. I am both of these, vampire and one in the same.” Menacingly, he stepped closer; close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her face. His skin was pale, deathly white, all of the golden tones of the man she knew in Chicago gone. His wavy black hair, which had always been so groomed, hung in tangles down the back of his neck and over his forehead into his eyes. The boots on his feet were soft black leather. She could see the defined muscles in his legs as they strained against his tight, well-worn jeans. In the dim light of the lanterns, she could see he wore a dark knitted sweater under his black leather jacket. “And, I was yet another to you in a life long ago, a human man. One you seem to have forgotten altogether.” He spoke softly in a threatening whisper. “Diego.”
“Diego?”
“Yes. Diego.” Raising his voice until it echoed against the stone walls. “The gypsy you pledged your undying love. The gypsy whose heart you entranced in that English forest more than five hundred years past, whose body and soul you possessed.” Clenching his fist, he squeezed his eyes shut as he fought for control. When he spoke again, his words were soft, clipped and filled with menace. “I have not forgotten you in over five centuries. I have searched the globe to find you. And when at last I do, I find you in love with another. An Immortal.” He snarled, hate contorting his handsome face into something monstrous and terrifying. “Your Aris.”
Sarah realized she wasn’t breathing just before he lunged at her. She gasped for air as he grabbed her by the shoulders; he shoved her toward the window with such force she feared he might throw her through the glass onto the stones below. After only a moment she realized he was pushing her toward a tall wing-back chair hidden in the shadows in the corner of the enormous room. Unceremoniously, he threw her onto the chair as he shouted. “Sit.” He fought to restrain himself from striking her; he knew he could kill her with one blow, but that would bring him no joy. He wanted her alive and terrified. He began to pace. When he spoke, his voice was low. Dangerous. “Do not move.”
She couldn’t move if she wanted to. The shock of being brought before the evil vampire King, the very devil that was leading his troops in war against Aris and his Immortals, in his throne room in the heart of a medieval castle only to find that the bloodsucker holding her prisoner was none other than her Italian ex-boyfriend from Chicago was more than she could handle. She was frozen to the spot. Unable to face him, she stared at her shoes. They were a perfect fit. Her addled brain wondered how her captors knew what size she wore and why they cared. When she was kidnapped from London and the safety of her Immortal friends by the vampire Queen who brought her to this God-forsaken place, she was in bed in a luxurious historical hotel, barefooted. She had fallen asleep on a soft, warm bed only to wake up bound and gagged, bouncing down a rut-filled road in the back of a jeep, slapped around by some crazy vampire woman who seemed to be looking forward to torturing her to death. Now she stood before the vampire King who appeared to think torture was a pretty good idea as well and all she could think about was her shoes. She was sure she had lost her mind.
King DeMarco grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His mouth softened for only an instant before the menace returned. He tore his hand away and continued pacing. “In that time long ago when your father snatched you from Diego, from me, I went mad. I roamed the woods like an animal mourning your loss. When, at last, I returned to the gypsy camp my grandmother told of a vision she had of you in the court of Henry VIII. I set out to follow you to London and there I found you at court. Do you remember?” He stopped in front of her, stooping down, resting his hands on the tufted arms of the chair in which she sat. She felt like a trapped animal. A trapped wolf will chew off its own leg to get free. She vowed she would do whatever it took to escape this wretched place. She remained silent in fear that any word from her might drive him over the edge.
“Ýes, I found you at court in London. I came to you. You shunned me. You turned me away. You told me you loved another.” There was madness in his eyes as, once again, he gripped her face in between his huge hands. “But I loved you still.” Suddenly his black eyes softened as they locked onto her frightened ones. Almost tenderly he pulled her to her feet. Suddenly his body grew rigid, he began shaking. Instantly repelled by his sudden urge to hold her, he threw her back down onto the chair.
Slowly he paced a circle around her as he spoke. “I watched the palace. I followed you to the ship on the day you set sail for Spain when Cardinal Woolsey exiled you to be married. I stowed away, but before the ship cast off, a sailor found me. He gave me over to the captain. Beaten and whipped, I nearly died from the great loss of blood and the infection that set into my wounds.” He tore the jacket from his shoulders, pulled the sweater over his head and threw both of them on the floor. His muscles strained with anger. His body looked powerful, invincible. “Do you see this? Wounds so deep even my vampire body retains the scars.” He spun on his heel, exposing his nude back to her.
Even in the soft lantern light she could see the long silver scars running from shoulder to shoulder, crisscrossing his spine to his waist and below.
Turning to face her, he picked up his jacket and put it back on, his pale chest a striking contrast to the black leather. “I took a thrashing for you because you once said you loved me. The wounds on my back healed, but the wound in my heart remained open and bleeding. I vowed I would find you, win you back. I was obsessed to have you for my own.
“When I healed sufficiently to work, I signed on to a ship’s crew bound for Spain. They drove us like dogs and I grew strong once more in spite of my ordeal. It was only after we landed that I learned you were dead, killed by a storm at sea. Again, I mourned my loss of you.
“Desiring solace, I traveled the countryside unaccompanied and on foot, learning the lay of the land. It was then I found this very castle occupied, in those days, by minor royalty. I secured work inside its walls as an apprentice to the lord’s blacksmith. I lived a quiet life, alone and finally at peace, for more than two decades. Then in my forty-second year, the blacksmith died without a wife or child; he willed me his small house and his blacksmith tools. I took pride in my work and made a decent living.” He stared out the window, possessed for a moment by human memories. His expression eased and Sarah could finally see DeMarco, the man she had СКАЧАТЬ