Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1)

by Quinn Arthurs

  Interesting, I thought. We knew the witch gene was not always passed on, but if any of my other servants—or meals—had been part-blood, I had been unable to tell.

  I slid my shirt into place, letting the silken fabric skim my thighs as I faced him. “You know my next order, Sebastian.” I didn’t bother stating it, merely waiting for him to step in front of me and offer his wrist. While I could smell his blood through his skin, if I chose to take him as a pet, I would feed on him regularly, bonding him to me and providing additional sustenance. It would also offer him protection, since a pet could not be chosen for a meal unless given up by his owner. His blue eyes flashed again, anger and defiance clear in their depths, his movements slow as though he was hoping I would rescind the command.

  I kept my eyes on his, arching a brow to let him know I noticed the delay, and the order was not going to change no matter how much he stalled. He was brave for a human. If he had delayed this way with many of my kind, he would have been the next meal for sure. I appreciated his independent spirit, and the fact he wasn’t completely broken down by this life and had that spark inside of him still. I hoped he tasted good.

  He held out his wrist, allowing me to grasp it and draw him closer to me, my ivory skin contrasting against his deep tan. “This won’t hurt,” I assured him, pulling his wrist to my mouth. I didn’t need to actively feed off of him after my meal, but I refused to consider him as a pet until I knew his blood was compatible with my system.

  I kept my eyes locked on his angry ones, not looking away as my fangs dropped and I laved my tongue over the skin of his wrist, allowing my venom to numb his skin before I pierced it. He blinked in surprise as my fangs perforated his wrist right above the small veins, and I let the flavor of him fill me.

  He was hot and salty-sweet, his blood richer than any I had tasted before. There was an edge to it, though, a bitterness that reminded me of the scent of the alcohol the witches enjoyed. Inexplicably, I found the taste appealing. I pulled away, laving my tongue across the wound to encourage healing and keep it numb while his flesh knit back together.

  “There are bandages in with the linens,” I directed as I licked the salty liquid from my lips. Though the wound would heal quickly, he would be comforted by the process of wrapping the wound, I was sure, rather than watching the skin slowly mend in front of his eyes.

  Sebastian moved to the cabinets, shock having replaced some of the anger in his gaze. “How did…” He trailed off, and I wondered if he worried about speaking out of turn.

  “Blood drawing does not have to hurt. It can even feel pleasurable for the donor.” I shrugged, sliding on the rest of my clothing as he bandaged his wrist. “Most simply don’t prefer it that way.”

  He opened his mouth for a moment before ducking his head, and I was positive he wanted to interject his own opinion, likely on what the prey would prefer, though I pretended I did not see. His blood had sealed my debate. It was as unique as he was, and I was intent on him not becoming a meal for the others.

  I dug through the drawer of my bedside table, hunting for my seal. I pulled straps of leather from the drawer as well, selecting what I needed with care before turning back to Sebastian, who waited with his hand clasped over his wrist, protecting the bandage. “Come here,” I demanded, sitting on the bed and indicating the space in front of me.

  I grasped his other wrist, lifting it to wrap the wide leather strap around it before clasping it with a thin leather band used as a tie. I picked up my seal next, sliding the medallion onto the thinner leather strap I had grabbed, securing it tightly around the leather cuff and threading the knot through the clasp. The angle was awkward and the knots intricate, making the band nearly impossible to remove by himself. The spells that were worked into the band would prevent him or anyone besides myself from slicing the leather away from his skin.

  “You know what this means?” I addressed him, not expecting any questions in response. Humans brought into the castle were informed of their potential future as pets, and many hoped for this eventual outcome, believing it brought them one step closer to their goal of being turned.

  “I am aware, mistress,” he responded, his voice stiff with unchecked fury. He had slipped easily into the title used by a claimed servant rather than a general servant, a promising reaction for his level of intelligence.

  “Good.” I arched a brow, part of me hoping he would challenge me outright. “Then you don’t need me to recite the general rules.” I found it mildly relieving not to have to deal with the formal aspect, notifying him of his new rules and his higher standing amongst the current humans. “Then my personal rules are all you should concern yourself with.”

  I indicated the chairs and table behind him, and he cocked his head, questioning my order. I smiled and he winced, apparently not used to seeing a vampire’s fangs bared in a smile rather than in feeding. “I am not unaware of the rumors that spread throughout the walls,” I offered as he took the seat I had indicated, his back stiff at the unusual change of circumstances before him. “I am odd for a vampire. Your experience will be different with me than as a pet for another vampire. Most of my time is spent in research, and I will require you to help me once I ensure that you read adequately and have enough common sense to recognize what is of importance. As my research partner, you will need to speak to me freely, so you may ignore the normal command of only replying to orders.”

  “Research, mistress?” His voice was quiet, and I could tell he was uncomfortable with the idea of speaking to me outside of a direct order. Not that I was surprised, he would have been soundly punished for it in the past if he had made that mistake.

  “My history. Human history.” I indicated the shelves of books and the precarious stacks that dotted the room. “I am not satisfied with the idea that how we live now is how we lived before the plagues took over, nor am I convinced that it is better. I believe there is always room to learn and grow.” I waved a hand as his eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening slightly as he gaped at me. “You will learn more about what I am researching in time. I will feed off of you.” I stared straight into his eyes, not allowing him to hide his expression at the declaration. “I will not make it painful, but I will require sustenance, and I prefer to receive it from you rather than at family meals.” Mutual expressions of distaste crossed our features at the thought.

  “Yes, mistress.” His tone was calm and submissive, though his eyes were anything but. I knew my lip quirked up at the corner, amused at the dichotomy of this man.

  “I will not punish you for speaking your mind, as long as you do so in the privacy of my rooms.” I knew he would be skeptical of this, although I meant it. I needed someone who would talk with me, help me to evaluate theories, and I was in need of someone to amuse me as well.

  “I do not intend to take you as a sexual partner.” I studied him closely, expecting a response to that at least.

  “Mistress?” The word was choked, a contrived response to my statement rather than a betrayal of his actual thoughts.

  I smirked, leaning back onto my palms. “Do you object to that, Sebastian?” At his lack of a reply, I sighed. I saw so much spark in him, but he wasn’t yet willing to let go of the rules he had been trained in and play with me. I really hoped he would come around, as I would hate to have to turn him into a meal.

  “No, mistress,” he replied, his chin lowering as he turned away, preventing me from reading the emotions in his eyes.

  “I have too much work to consider taking on partners,” I explained. “Do not be fooled by anyone claiming to be a partner of mine and stating that they have a say in your ownership,” I warned. “Even my parents may not give you unusual orders, and their needs shall always be deferred for mine. Simply bow and show your wrist, there is no need to speak to them and risk them taking offense.”

  “The witches, mistress?” His husky voice was quiet, though I was impressed that he had taken the initiative to ask.

  I scoffed. “Witches will be wi
tches, no matter whether you are a pet or not. They will comply with my medallion, or they will be grievously punished. You do not need to donate to them, and I order that you do not without my express permission. I highly doubt that will ever be granted, so you should not be concerned.” He nodded shortly, accepting my statement. “Your duties will be attending to me. However, as I said, most of that time will be spent on research. I will clear it so you will not be required to complete other chores.”

  A knock at the door had me hissing my irritation. Few intruded on my rooms, fewer still did so more than once. “Open it,” I snarled to Sebastian.

  He was quick to obey, his steps quiet and sure as he strode to the door. He bowed when it opened, his eyes on the floor as he asked, “May I announce you, sirs?”

  “She’s got a pet?” I recognized the scornful voice. “I hadn’t heard of her having one.” The deep, rumbling timbre had me growling my frustration.

  “What I have is none of your business, witch,” I called out, letting them know I knew who was at my door. “You have no business at my rooms.” I waved a hand at Sebastian, indicating he should step back, allowing them entrance if they so chose.

  He complied, opening the door wide enough to show both of the twins as I stood to square off with them. “At least you’re clean this time,” Crowe remarked with a twisted grin. “You look far better like that than with the macabre decorations.”

  “As if I care what you think I look like. Why are you in my rooms?”

  “Well, you did invite your pet to let us in,” Draven pointed out. I scowled, resisting the instinctual urge to bite him. Crowe smacked the back of his brother’s head, the two exchanging a meaningful look before facing me again.

  “We were directed to approach you,” Crowe explained. “Your mother suggested you would be the best source of information.”

  “For?” I drawled, irritated at his need to drag this out and prevent me from my work.

  “Apparently you’ve been taking all of the recovered history books.” Draven indicated the piles around me with a wave. “We came here for research, and you’ve been hoarding the information. I thought you were a vampire, not a dragon.”

  I hissed, pulling my lip back to show my fangs as I approached them. Neither flinched, merely cocking their heads to study me. “You will mind your tongue, or I will tear it out. Do not underestimate me. Your status as guests does not protect you.”

  Crowe held up a placating hand. “My brother does not always think before he speaks.”

  “Then he should learn,” I snapped. “Or someone less patient than I will prevent him from gaining that opportunity.” I glanced at my pile of books, debating what I would be willing to let leave. “What are you looking for exactly?”

  “We are interested in history,” Crowe explained. “Specifically history before the plagues and the formation of the witches’ culture.” I blinked in surprise and at the correlation to my own work.

  “Why?” I had my own reasons for my research, and a small piece of me wondered if maybe their hypothesis matched with mine.

  Both shrugged, the movement identical and instinctive, as though they had the same thought at the same moment. “Understanding the past brings us power,” Draven stated. “It allows us to prevent the same mistakes and gives us the capacity to garner spells and other abilities that may have been lost with time.”

  I restrained the sneer that wanted to form. Of course the witches were doing it for power. I didn’t know why I had thought it would be for another reason.

  “I’m not sure that much of what I have applies to the witches, though I admit I wasn’t making notes regarding anything about them I came across.” I considered the stack with worry, not wanting to release anything I might need at a later date. “You are aware how to properly care for books?”

  “Says the woman who tried to drown herself in blood?” Draven muttered, earning himself an elbow in the ribs.

  “We simply want to borrow a few from your collection.” Crowe offered up a smile with his statement. “You won’t even miss them.”

  Torn, I considered my options. I could release my books to them, unsure if I would ever receive them back or what information they might damage or remove from them. Or I could allow them intrusion into my space, which was not exactly an appealing prospect. The two didn’t move, expecting an answer and unwilling to remove themselves before I gave them the chance.

  I sighed, my frustration evident on my face and in my tone. “You can select what you wish, but they cannot leave these rooms. I won’t risk losing the information. These books are valuable, and they stay in my possession.”

  “Really? You’re going to actually hoard them all?” Draven’s words dripped with scorn.

  “Not hoard,” I retorted. “Protect.” I warmed to my excuse, crossing my arms over my chest and staring them down. “If Sebastian or I are in this room, you may use it for study purposes unless I find you are damaging any of the books. Anything you see or hear in these chambers shall be considered private.”

  “We will not be made your pets as well.” Draven stepped forward, his hands sparkling, and I snorted.

  “As if I would take a witch for a pet. Disgusting creatures.” I shook my head, my nose wrinkled. “You all taste terrible. This is a study, nothing more. Think of it as you having private access to my personal library.” I could see they both wanted to object, though after a short, nonverbal exchange that might have related to their relationship or might have as easily been magic, they nodded their acquiescence. “Good. Then let’s all get to work.”

  I headed to my preferred seat, retaking the book I had been studying before dinner tonight. I was going to find answers to my questions, even if it took my entire lifetime. Now, at least, I would have help.

  Chapter Two

  Elsie

  I had expected to rue my decision to allow the witches into my sanctuary, but they were surprisingly diligent, not to mention quiet. Sebastian had also remained silent, even as he threw heated glares at me as he worked on sorting through my notes and adding his own comments to my findings. I wasn’t willing to trust him with any solo research until I had a chance to review his skills and ensure he knew what he was looking for. I settled my book down with a soft sigh, angling my head so I could view his writing.

  “Very good,” I murmured, quickly scanning the pages. His script was neat and clear, and his notes were succinct. It was obvious he had no problem with the concepts I had been covering.

  “So is this really what you do all day?” Draven’s gruff voice had me rolling my eyes as I turned to him. So much for staying quiet.

  “Study, you mean?” My lip curled as I stared at the witch across from me. Crowe’s gaze was on the tome in his lap, but I wasn’t fooled into thinking he was ignoring the conversation. Sebastian’s blue eyes were wary, glancing between the pair of us as he attempted to judge the dynamic between myself and the witch twins.

  Draven snorted. “Yeah, sure. Study. Research.” He waved at the books piled on my table, at the notebooks full of my handwriting and intricate trees of ideas, at the walls of bookcases that decorated my room stuffed with every type of history book I could get my hands on. “I mean, most vampires are busy with other activities.” From the sneer on his full lips, I could guess what direction his mind was heading.

  I leaned back in my seat, angling my neck as I attempted to work out the kinks I had from sitting hunched over for so long. “I assume this is your attempt to ask why I’m not torturing, feeding, or fucking?” I didn’t look away, unashamed of my words. Draven nearly fell from his chair, a flush decorating his cheeks as he shot a quick glance at his brother before turning his attention back to me.

  “Direct little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured.

  “What’s not to be direct about?” I shifted in my chair, my fingers tapping on the table in front of me, making my pencil spin. “It’s what you meant, is it not?”

  A smirk tugged at Draven’s mouth, making his
lip ring catch the light. “And if it is?”

  I smiled, making sure my fangs were on full display. “I assume that would be along the lines of me asking you why you aren’t busy draining someone, stealing from our meals, or attempting to gain more power by those ridiculous spells you cast,” I drawled. His smirk dropped into a glower, his dark brown eyes flashing with sparks of red as his power leapt toward the surface. “Ah, you don’t like me making assumptions and casting aspersions, do you?” I knew my taunt had hit its mark when he hissed, his hand going to the sheathed knife at his waist. Crowe reached out a hand, settling it onto his twin’s shoulder.

  “Enough, Draven.” He didn’t bother pretending to read now, his head cocking as he studied me. “I apologize for my brother.”

  I flicked a hand, turning my attention back to Sebastian. “It seems you’re forced to repeat that sentence frequently. You may want to remind your brother that in this castle, someone may force you to actively apologize for him.” My eyes darted up to catch their flashing ones as they took in my warning.

  “Is that a threat?” Draven snarled, shoving to his feet. Lightning danced along his palms, a clear threat that I merely rolled my eyes at. “We’re blood witches, not meals. We have a truce with your people.” His tone was dripping with scorn, the hairs on his arms standing up as his power pumped through his body.

  “You do.” I turned my attention back to Sebastian’s notes, making it clear he was no threat to me, whether from the power in his palms or the knife he had been stroking earlier. “Yet that truce also includes you respecting your place. With that loose tongue of yours, many of my kind would take offense and claim that, without said respect, you are due a penalty. Since your brother keeps stepping up to apologize on your behalf, they are able to take the price of your display from him.” I shifted my shoulder in a negligent shrug, letting my hair fall in coils over my face. Draven snarled, a sound nearly vampiric in its intensity, and I let a smile curve my lips, hidden as I was behind the shield of my hair.