Dark Blooded Desires: Vampire Fantasy (Bonds of Damurios Book 1)

by Nicki Ruth

  Alexios’ body shook, a numbing coldness unfurling from his limbs, clutching at his soul. He groaned as blood spilled from his lips. Death’s summons chimed. His last memory would be Davina as she truly was—the terrifying and beautiful queen of the damunaki.

  Davina returned her feet to the ground and slowly walked toward Amelagar with a calm that belied the whirling majesty he had just witnessed.

  “You wanted to take from me. From me?” She tilted her head, regarding Amelagar disdainfully. Her voice was ghostly, dual-pitched, heavy and deep, shrill and screeching at the same time. The hairs on Alexios’ body rose at the sound. “You shall pay dearly for your hubris.”

  The room was still except for the swirling ribbons of blood orbiting Davina. Most of her clothing had been burned or melted from the intense heat that emanated from her body. She placed one foot forward, then another.

  Amelagar unconsciously took a step back before he realized it. Clearly, he was reassessing the power that strolled menacingly before him.

  “Yes. You should be afraid.” Her double-layered voice echoed off the cavern, shaking rocks and dust loose from the walls. She continued forward again toward the pale and shaken Amelagar. “Do you know who I am?”

  Amelagar swallowed audibly but said nothing.

  “I am your queen. I am beauty, power, giver of life and death. You should be on your knees, damunaki!” she thundered, rocking the cavern.

  A large boulder fell from above and crashed into the altar where she had been bound. Amelagar shook, blood seeping from the corners of his eyes.

  Alexios’ vision dimmed, but he never took his eyes off his queen. He hoped she would succeed where he had failed. For centuries, he had hunted his sire, but was always steps behind. Now, having found her in the vastness of space, his vengeance no longer seemed to matter; his purpose had become so greatly altered, his destiny surrendered to her hands.

  “I have seen your deeds, the fear you have inspired among my children. Do you think yourself more fearsome than I? More terrifying? Worthier to be worshiped than your queen?”

  She raised her arms up beside her and laughed—a loud, ghastly sound that ricocheted off the mountain to the valley below, causing all who heard it to scream and quake. Alexios winced at the thundering sound, barely able to keep himself upright.

  “You bitch!” Amelagar managed to rasp out. “You are nothing! It belongs to me. I alone am worthy of wielding it.” He stumbled as he stepped back again. “I’ve sacrificed too much to let you—”

  He didn't finish. Davina made a fist, and Amelagar jerked before her, blood trickling from his nose and ears, joining that from his bulging eyes. He gurgled, struggling to breathe. He made desperate, gagging noises as blood emerged from his mouth.

  But to Alexios’ amazement, the stream of blood stopped then slowly returned to his body. Amelagar doubled over, wheezing and clearing his throat. Davina tilted her head, seemingly perplexed as he was to see Amelagar’s retreating blood.

  Amelagar returned his attention to Davina and smirked. “You are no queen of mine, girl!” he said. “You are nothing and no match for me. I’ve lived a long time and have taken many precautions to ensure I become the rightful heir to the Zharoil.”

  But the whites of his eyes betrayed his fear. This was the first time he had come so close to death. He shakily straightened to his full height.

  “Now, where were we?”

  A familiar, hooded figure stepped from the shadows. Alexios would have howled in despair if he could—not for his own sake, but for Davina’s. Sandar stood next to Amelagar, regarding Davina.

  “Do you think to challenge me as well, sage?” Davina’s eerie, dual voice ricocheted through the cavern, shaking loose more rubble.

  “He stands with me, as he’s always done!” Amelagar said before Sandar could speak. “Even now, his gifts enhance my own. You’ll not have my blood.”

  Davina’s black eyes bored into Sandar as if looking into his very soul, seeking out his hidden secrets. The silence was deafening with the two of them regarded each other. Then another rumble, low and shuddering, came from Davina. She smiled, flashing four dangerously long fangs—two pairs descending from either side of her mouth.

  “Queen?” Amelagar said the word with such derision, Alexios let out a small growl. “Surrender to me. You're unable to wield the gift.”

  She was silent and motionless, streams of blood undulating around her.

  “No, she already knows what I will do. What I must do,” Sandar whispered, his dark eyes swirling red-gold as he turned to Amelagar. “The Zharoil has already chosen. Davina is the true and living heir. It won't relinquish its claim to her. She will rule over the damunaki with her anchoring guardian. She has the strength and compassion to withstand it. These are qualities you do not possess, nor have the capacity for. The true wielder of the Zharoil must have both to avoid being devoured by the gifts reclaimed.”

  “Shut your mouth, you fool!” Amelagar screeched with rage. “What would you know about strength, you who hide from your very nature as a vampire? You’ve always been weak and pathetic. I was born to rule, and rule I shall!”

  Sandar’s eyes fluttered closed, and he took in a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for multiple lifetimes. I loved you so much, hoping my love would bring you back to me in spite of everything you have done. But it hasn’t, has it? It wasn't enough. I wasn’t enough. You are truly lost to me.” He laughed sadly.

  Amelagar’s eyes widened as he stumbled back. “No, you . . . you wouldn’t dare betray me!”

  Sandar stepped up to him. “I wish I could remain at your side forever. But this cannot go on. I cannot let you destroy anyone else. You have taken too much, and now, I will serve another.”

  Sandar embraced his stricken love, the hood of his cloak falling back, his white hair stark against the bleakness around them.

  “No,” Amelagar whispered, barely audible, his body rigid.

  “I am sorry, my love. Until we . . . meet again.” Sandar closed his eyes, tears silently escaping as the symbols on his body glowed red. An iridescent, shimmering mist rose up from Amelagar’s body and floated into Sandar’s. Magic that once protected and shielded Amelagar now abandoned him, returning to its source. Amelagar cried out. His body seized and shook. Alexios held his breath.

  "Now, you are mine!" Davina laughed again, and the rock floor cracked

  “No!” Amelagar cried. “I’m to rule them. I’m the one! I will set them back on the path of glory. When the gods awake, I’ll be among them. I . . .”

  He reached blindly toward Davina as she held out her hand and pulled the blood from his body. This time it answered the call of its master, no longer hindered by forces unseen, and joined the floating streams around her.

  Soon, the tell-tale glow flickered just under Amelagar’sskin as he writhed and screamed. The smell of charred flesh watered Alexios’ eyes, and he watched with sad satisfaction as his sire was reduced to ash.

  It was finished. His wavering vision rested on Davina for the last time, happy to have been able to know her, be with her, love her as he did. Part of him raged to be torn from her side so soon after they had promised to . . . be more to each other, he supposed. Alexios smiled as nothingness embraced him.

  ∞∞∞

  Davina shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she stood vigil over Alexios. She wasn't cold, but exhaustion was about to topple her over.

  She shook her head. Why hadn’t Alexios awakened? She had already repaired the damage to his chest, stitching back flesh and bone, and flooded his mouth with her blood. But he remained unchanged. How had things turned out this way? She shuddered as she remembered the events of a few days before.

  After Amelagar’s demise, she and Sandar had spoken about his part in all this. Once Sandar had realized the true heir of the Zharoil had survived, he had sought to protect her from Amelagar, knowing she needed time to accept and claim what she was. Davina had pressed for more information on the tragic even
ts on Zhar, and Sandar confirmed Amelagar had, in fact, betrayed her mother.

  “Your mother was also a dear friend of mine. The three of us had many fun adventures together,” Sandar had recalled. “I would have done everything in my power to stop her murder if I had known what Amelagar had planned. His greed poisoned him. No one was spared. I eventually learned he was responsible for the killings on Earth, but to my shame, I did not rebuke him or leave his side. He wanted power. I helped him, but his ruthlessness ate away at the person I once knew. Or maybe I was so blinded by my feelings that I refused to see he was never who I imagined him to be. I’m sorry for Tiamat’s loss, but I pledge to serve you faithfully and honestly, as she would have wanted.

  “Please know, Davina, that she loved you very much and sacrificed her whole world for you. She thought keeping you on Earth would suppress the darker urges of the Zharoil. Once you mastered it, it was her intention to have you return to your people and rule as you were born to do.”

  She had quietly accepted his pledge without formality. It was evident he grieved deeply for his lost love, who had abused him and taken him for granted. Davina saw Sandar’s crimson light, ancient and weathered, unwavering and steadfast. She hoped he would one day find another to love him in return. In the meantime, she had deployed him to an important task.

  Davina gently stroked Alexios’ pale face, thinking back to the events in the cavern. She owed him so much. Even as death had him in its sharp jaws, he managed to bring her back from being totally consumed by the Zharoil that was intent on ruination. As Amelagar had turned to ash, she felt him—the dimming of Alexios across the bond. He had looked so pale and peaceful sprawled on the rocky cavern floor, and her heart faltered, knowing he was dead.

  She had let out a pained, frightful cry that, she learned later, had shaken the mountain and the valley below, triggering landslides and sending boulders crashing. News of the terrible quake and near disintegration of half a mountain had spread far and wide. It was all anyone spoke about for days. Terrified locals spoke about the deathly howl that pierced the quiet Damurian twilight, sending the already shaken city into another panic.

  The earth shook so fiercely, trees and buildings toppled like paper. They spoke about the Damu river that emptied its banks, torrents whirling upwards like whirlpools reaching into the sky like giant, bloodied fingers. The townsfolk had stared in horror at the blood that bled from the ground into the air, coloring the sky red, only to rain back down to the earth like heated tears.

  In the throes of her rage and grief, Davina vowed to lay waste to those who had taken from their queen, to blanket them in blood and fire and ash. With her dreams as prophetic reminders of the acrid taste of desolation fated, Davina gave in to the dark voice that laughed, urging her on, wrenching at the pain that lanced her. Only now the dark being was her, not a separate entity. They had united as one, each pulling against the other.

  She was dark. She was fearsome. She was Davina.

  Come. Let us burn, let us drink. Let them know our power, it had called.

  And she had answered. “Yes, we shall destroy them all.”

  The blood queen had returned to Damurios, and she was terrifying and vengeful. She would grind them under her might and gorge on their blood.

  But, in spite of her grief and bloodlust, something tethered her in place, anchoring her from being completely swept away by the avenging current that laid awaiting her destruction.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw an alternate reality where she was surrounded by friends, where she laughed and felt comforted and loved. There was no fear, no death, no cries of agony. A shepherd, she had once called herself.

  In that moment, tiny wisps of electric threads had encircled her, skirting along her skin, gently caressing her. Pinholes of light shot through her black despair. They surrounded her, keeping at bay shadowy limbs that sought to drag her under the smothering blanket of rage; keeping her herself, reminding her that she had answered the cries for help.

  She was one who was needed, who was a protector, not a destroyer.

  Electric threads hooked themselves to her as they stretched out, weaving across a bond. That bond, a golden chain that connected her to another, was bathed in white electric light that led to a small, weakly pulsing source that beckoned to her. She had peered at the tiny, crackling ball that was steadily fading when a bright bolt shot out from its center toward her. She had jolted back from the darkness to see Alexios still bathed in blood, lying before her on the rocky floor of the cavern holding her hand, squeezing weakly. He was alive, but barely.

  “No, Davina. Stay . . . with me,” he whispered ever so quietly.

  The numbing darkness recoiled from her, and the haunting voice quieted allowing relief and joy to flood her heart so thoroughly. And just as quickly as it began, the earth had stopped shaking, blood dissipated from the air, the river returned to its bank, and the terror in the city below subsided.

  Now, days later, she looked down at Alexios’ still form and wondered how he had done it. How had he brought her back from losing herself and satisfying the worst of her dark blooded desires? She was grateful for his strength and perseverance. The wounds he had suffered should have killed him, but by sheer force of will, he had refused to let himself submit to death’s call. He had not wanted to leave her.

  “How is he?” Brandr strolled into the room and looked at his sire.

  “No change. But he’s still here with us,” she said quietly.

  Brandr nodded and took a seat next to the bed. He had stopped asking her to rest, since she refused each time. Davina glanced at him and saw him watching her. He’d been surprised by the changes to her. Dark symbols now marked her arms and legs, similar to the ones Sandar wore. No one would be able to refute who she was now, not even she herself.

  Now, she could easily read the bloodlights of all her Damu people, all of whom were tethered to her.

  “How’s Jason?” she asked.

  “Also no change.”

  Jason was having a troubling reaction to the Dāmming. He suffered spells of unusual fatigue, dizziness, and fever. Whatever was awakening within him was preventing Davina from accessing his conscious. It had a tremendous aura that made her uneasy. However, she sensed it meant no one harm and was just as curious about its awakening as they were. Jason’s fever had him tossing and turning, pained and panting. They didn't know what to do to alleviate his suffering. Perhaps he needed his sire, who remained in a slumber.

  She sighed and gazed at Alexios again, brushing a dark lock from his forehead. He was alive, she knew, but why hadn't he awakened?

  Then she remembered, and she chided herself for not thinking of it sooner. She could try to seek him out in his consciousness, as he had done when she met the dark wraith.

  Davina had never done this before and was not sure she could without causing irreparable damage to his mind. But Alexios told her he had been able to find her by following their bond connection. She would try the same. She placed his hand in hers and concentrated.

  Golden and bright, their bond hummed, each thread interlaced with the other, a woven masterpiece whose strength would endure so long as they nurtured it. This bond marked him as her guardian. She tugged at it and felt a tender response at the other end.

  She moved forward. As she got closer, she was bathed in electrical energy, snapping fiercely around her. She found herself in a raging storm, bolts of lightning tearing through the darkness, loud thunderous cracking of electricity whipped to a frenzy. Fingers of current brushed roughly against her, warning her away. She concentrated harder, battling against the turmoil of Alexios’ mind that fought to push her back.

  And there he was, illuminated against the darkness as a bright line of lightning lit up the space. He sat folded over, arms hugging his knees close to his chest, head bowed. She moved toward him cautiously as the angry storm rampaged around them.

  “Alexios,” she called, hoping her voice carried over the loud cracks of energy.

&nb
sp; He growled and raised his head, red eyes clouded with confusion and fear. This wasn't the Alexios she knew. It was a young boy! The young vampire-self of Alexios, born when he was first gifted.

  “P. . . Please, stay away. I’m so . . . so thirsty,” young Alexios whimpered.

  Tears stung her eyes. Had Alexios’ consciousness traveled back to the time of his greatest despair? A newly turned, sireless vampire, thirsty and afraid. The death of his sire had probably triggered this return, even though they had never forged a bond between them.

  “It’s all right, Alexios. Come,” Davina cooed. “Come and drink from me. I will keep you safe.” Davina held her hand out to him.

  He hesitated, but his eyes were locked onto her neck. “No. P . . . please, it burns,” he whimpered again, pale and shaking, fear and yearning etched on his face.

  Davina beckoned to him with a smile, urging him forward. She did not approach, knowing his thirst might cause him to lash out. A bloodthirsty vampire was unpredictable and vicious.

  He twitched and held himself tighter, but after a few moments of agitation and indecision he rose, shaky on his feet, gaunt and trembling. She folded him into a tight embrace, pledging secret vows to him.

  Alexios. How she had missed him. He was hers, and she would do everything in her power to ease his torment over his loss and abandonment—a torment he had carried for millennia. They might never know why Amelagar had abandoned him. Maybe, deep down, he had sensed Alexios was connected to the Zharoil in some way and gifted him, not understanding what it meant.

  Young Alexios squirmed against her, his fangs grazing against her tender skin. She tilted her head to give him more access.

  “Drink, Alexios. You won’t be thirsty ever again. I promise. Drink and return to me.”

  He bit, tearing her neck like a novice taking his first bite. She grunted, and he shuddered against her, drinking so quickly and voraciously he almost choked. The electrical whirlwinds around them began to subside.