Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1)

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Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1) Page 13

by Quinn Arthurs


  Witches were similar. Like today with Crowe and Draven, they were at their weakest after large magic expenditures. If you watched the witches, you could see the ones who liked to show off big, burning through too much in an attempt to impress those around them. Accidents easily happened to a witch who was too tired to pay attention the way they should. Yet, never once, had I turned my blade on a human. I had been so focused on the literal monsters in my midst, I’d ignored the figurative ones.

  The truth of that blared into my mind. How many human monsters had I walked past? How many evil behaviors had I ignored, let go unpunished, simply because of what they were? Being human didn’t give them a free pass to destroy the lives of those around them. It didn’t mean they could maim or kill for no true reason. If they wanted to act like monsters, then I would let my own monster out to play. Unlike Elsie—and if my guess was correct, Crowe and Draven—I had no desire to maim or kill anyone who wasn’t truly evil. Insults and disobedience were not enough to draw the demon out of me. My beast was under lock and key, chained with an iron will inside of me. But for those who went after people I loved, for those who went after innocents, my monster was ready for them. Ready to make them scream, to make them bleed, to make them fear me as they stuttered out their last breath.

  Humans were no longer safe from my demon just because of their species. Elsie had been right when she lectured me, tearing into me with a truth I didn’t want to see. I wasn’t going to hide from it any longer. I didn’t know what I would do about Elsie or the witch twins, what punishments I would be forced to enact, but I pushed those thoughts away, burying them for another day. For now, these monsters would be the first to go. I sank into myself, ceding control to the darker parts I usually forced aside.

  Crowe and Draven had Clyde’s manacles secured now, allowing him to dangle so his feet barely skimmed the floor. The pair were taller than me, forcing his hands above my head, but that put all the more sensitive bits right within my range. “Him first,” I ordered, pointing to one of the cells that hadn’t lit up, my voice deeper than normal as I let the nightmare that lived inside of me free.

  Draven chuckled, his brown eyes bright with flecks of red as he yanked the cage open, hauling the cowering man toward me. From the bruising and swelling on his knuckles, I could tell this was one of the ones who had landed the bare handed blows on me, not likely bothering with a blade. Clyde’s eyes were wide and frantic as he yanked on his chains, his gaze darting to the twins first, then Elsie, then back to the man Draven held.

  “They didn’t want you to fight back, Ash. How about a little repayment for that?” Draven taunted. With a flick of his wrist, red light wrapped around the arms of the man he held, creating a magical binding. “Just as effective as chains without all the hassle.” Draven winked at me before tossing the man at my feet. Trusting in the witches’ magic to tether him and highlight the knowledge hidden inside, I headed for the nearest table. I preferred blades when I worked. Easily hidden, easily explained for a human servant. Between kitchen work and regular chores, knives were a necessity and far too easily overlooked. I stroked my hands across the array they had, fingering them gently as I decided what I wanted to play with. A sound like a purr caught my attention, and I saw Elsie lean against the wall to watch me, her eyes trained on where I was caressing the knives. A smirk played at the corner of my lips as I watched her watch me, and her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Fuck, that’s different,” Draven breathed, drawing my attention. His head was cocked as he studied me, his brows creased as he stared. Crowe’s expression was a mirror of his twin’s, the red light flickering in their eyes in the same swirling pattern as their power stayed at the surface.

  “Do you sense that?” Crowe asked. I thought he was speaking to his brother, but apparently it was directed at Elsie as she made an agreeing hum. Turning my attention back to the weapons, I selected a small blade, similar to the one Draven liked to play with. Like his, the edge was sharp and well kept. Far different from the blades they had carved into me. I palmed it confidently, my thumb running over it like a lover’s skin as I walked to the man whose face was pressed into the floor.

  “Name?” The demand rumbled from my lips as I kicked him over onto his back, his gray eyes huge in his pale face.

  “N-Nelson,” he sputtered out. I inclined my head in acknowledgment before darting forward, my blade sinking deep into his throat. The blood pumped over my hands, splattering out to speckle my face as I yanked the knife out.

  “Not anymore,” I singsonged before kicking him aside. I cupped my palm at his throat, letting the blood pour into my hand before I strode over to Elsie. “Arm, mistress?” A smile was painted on her lips as she held out her arm, showing the dry, cracked skin she had displayed earlier. I turned my hand, allowing the blood to drain over the wound before it splashed onto the floor.

  I could already see the skin stitching together underneath the layer of blood I’d painted onto her, and I turned back to Clyde, who was wriggling like a fish against his restraints, the metal digging deeply into his wrists. A low laugh left my lips as I strode toward the bound man, the dagger nearly throbbing in my hand as it called for justice. Now it was time for the real fun to begin.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elsie

  “Want to clue us in, princess?” Crowe whispered as he sidled up beside me, his eyes tracking Sebastian who was currently circling the bound, struggling Clyde. Draven leaned against the wall on my other side, his gaze searching my face.

  “About what?” I kept my voice purposely innocent, as low as his, even as I watched the way Sebastian moved. He was always graceful, purposeful, intent, even in his servant role. But seeing him like this? I squeezed my thighs together, forcing down a moan, not wanting to distract him. I’d sensed the fire inside him, the passion, the strength, but even I hadn’t detected

  this darkness he had leashed behind that bowed head and blue eyes. I was powerless to look away as he taunted Clyde, not even speaking a word, simply circling him in slowly tightening rings while the other man thrashed madly. When he had looked into my eyes as he poured the blood over my skin, I had nearly pulled his mouth to mine, wanting to taste that darkness, that madness for myself. Was this the bitter tang in his blood? The addictive undercurrent I hadn’t been able to describe?

  “It seems Ash has a monster inside of him,” Draven remarked with something akin to glee. There was something else there as well in his tone, in his eyes, as he watched intently—some memory that stirred sorrow and hope into a convoluted mix before disappearing from his dark depths.

  “Mm-hmm,” I agreed, the sound heavy with approval and anticipation for what was to come.

  “Another personality?” Crowe mused, his voice still too low for Sebastian’s human ears to pick up. “I could feel it when he let go. Almost taste it.” Lightning crackled across his skin, nearly brushing against me and making me shiver at the fleeting sensation. “He’s dangerous like this.”

  “It’s not someone else,” I told him, shifting my back against the icy stone, stroking my fingers through the blood that was now cold on my arm. “I think this is what’s truly inside him. I’ve seen hints, knew there was a fire trapped underneath that mask he wore, but I never expected this.” The words were a sigh as I lazily traced my fingers up my arm. “I think he has absolute, iron control. That he leashes this part of himself away from everyone. He knows exactly how to hide who he is until he is good and ready to release it on the world.” Wetness coated my thighs as they squeezed together at the thought. My pet was a demon on the inside, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. His firm control meant he could slip his way through the shadows and hide in plain sight until the perfect moment when he was ready to strike. He was a predator in every sense of the word. The best kind of hunter. His intelligence and command were unwavering, and it called to me as deeply as his blood.

  “That’s fucking dangerous,” Crowe murmured into my ear, and I snarled at him.

&nbs
p; “If you touch him, oath bond or not, I will find a way to end you,” I warned, meaning every word. Sebastian was mine, and now that I had seen this side of him, I wasn’t ever letting him go. His demons danced with my own, and I wanted to see him unleash himself on me.

  “Easy, Elsie,” Draven muttered with a chuckle. “Let’s not go making any threats. Besides, what’s a little murder between friends?” He reached up and twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. “We have no problem with the darkness inside him. Crowe’s just pissed that he managed to hide it from us.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “He wouldn’t have liked it if Ash surprised him with this, you see. I think it’s a good thing we stepped in to save him today.” With another sharp glare, I turned my attention back to my pet as he finally stopped right behind Clyde, making the man whimper. Sebastian reached up with the blade, slicing cleanly through the man’s shirt, baring his back. Clyde yelped, trying to scramble away from the knife, though I knew from the scent in the air that he hadn’t actually been cut. Reaching around Clyde, Sebastian repeated the motion, shredding the front of his shirt as well, leaving it to dangle so his chest and back were exposed.

  “Please, please, mistress,” Clyde cried out, his frantic eyes finding me against the wall. My lip peeled back as I darted forward, but Clyde was already shrieking, Sebastian’s blade buried in his shoulder.

  “She’s not your mistress, Clyde,” Sebastian growled, yanking his blade free and stalking around to face him. He pulled his own shirt over his head to leave his skin bare and tossed the scrap of fabric aside. I wrapped my arm around his neck, pulling him close to me as I licked over the rippling muscles of his back. I wouldn’t take blood from him, not after what he had been through today, but the psychological torture of watching me like this with my pet was as bad as the physical torment. It had been clear from Sebastian’s memories that this man—that all of these humans—had attacked my pet because they had hoped to be claimed and turned. Yet one look at any of them and I knew they never would have been what I needed. They were violent, it was true, but while it drew me in with Sebastian, I found the rest of them were more pathetic than intriguing. There wasn’t a demon inside them, that fire that could burn me. This man was a coward underneath it all, sniveling to the end. He had managed to go after Sebastian because he was part of a crowd, allowing them to hype him up and posture as if he was something more powerful than what he was. Now that he was alone, trapped, waiting for his own pain, he was sobbing and pleading before a hand had even been laid on him.

  If Sebastian had let his darkness out to play with the humans, I had no doubt he would have taken out more than the few he did. If he was hanging here in front of me, his mask stripped away, locked in the control of his enemy, he’d be spitting fire to the end, challenging with every stroke. Refusing to scream under someone’s blade didn’t make you powerful. The body—whether human, vampire, or witch—had limits only a select few could ignore. Sebastian had proven his strength by restraining the monster inside him, even until the end. Despite nearly dying, he hadn’t released it, refusing to allow it free rein to play with the humans even as they tore him apart. He hadn’t made the choice yet, hadn’t allowed himself to see the truth, and therefore his demons stayed bound and gagged, buried. Now, however? Now that he had chosen vengeance, even against his own kind, he had let his true self out to play. That was strength. That was power. That was control. And that was what drew me to him.

  My pet didn’t pull away from my touch, didn’t shy from my mouth on his skin, as he looked up at Clyde. “You wanted my mistress, isn’t that right?” His voice was a rumble as he stroked the knife across Clyde’s chest, leaving a bloody imprint of the blade against his pale flesh. “That’s the real reason you wanted me out of the way. It had nothing to do with me not worshipping vampires the way you did. Nothing to do with not wanting to be turned.” His lips pulled back in a sneer as he reached out, tearing the scraps of the man’s shirt away. “You think I didn’t see what was in your eyes? That I didn’t understand why you planned to castrate me?” I hissed up at the pale, sweating piece of filth who was hanging above me. “You really think she would have ever chosen someone as pathetic as you to enter her bed? Some weak, pitiful, sniveling creature like you and your friends here?” He indicated the cells with a wave of his hand before reaching up to thread his hand into my hair.

  I groaned when he tugged at the strands, loving the pain he offered me, my eyes sliding halfway closed. One of the twins let out an approving sound when Sebastian bent my head back, leaning down to trace a path up my throat. “You really think she would have offered her body to someone like you? That you should have had the honor of tasting her? Of pleasuring her?” He laughed darkly, his teeth scraping over my skin before he lashed out with his blade, scoring a line across Clyde’s chest without pulling his mouth from my skin.

  His hand tightened in my hair as his eyes looked into mine, the darkness in them hot enough to burn as Clyde screamed and sobbed behind him. “You know what I regretted when I thought I would die at the hands of these worthless idiots?” His voice was low, though he didn’t whisper. He lashed out again, slicing a line over Clyde’s stomach. It wasn’t deep, wouldn’t cause the man to bleed out, it was merely to inflict pain, to let him suffer, make him scream. “I regretted my pride for refusing to allow me to taste you. To pleasure you. To have known what it was like to fuck you the way I’ve wanted since the first moment I saw you. I wanted your taste to be the last thing on my tongue.” I groaned at the picture his words painted, my stomach clenching tightly with need. “I didn’t care that you were a vampire. That you were my mistress. That you owned me. You were going to be the last thing I thought about. And I’m done waiting.”

  His mouth collided with mine, a desperate meeting of lips. His tongue dove into my mouth, heedless of my fangs as he tasted me, bending me to his control with his grip on my hair. His tongue traced over one of my fangs, and I cried out at the sensation, making him chuckle against my lips as he did it again. He pulled away, his eyes dilated, his chest heaving as he settled me onto my feet.

  He turned back to Clyde with a snarl. “I would have died without that because of you.” He dug his knife into Clyde’s arm, carving away a chunk of muscle and throwing it aside. I recognized the move from his memories, and I smiled cruelly at our shrieking captive. From the cells around me, I could hear the sobs, the whimpers, and the gagging noises of the others who were waiting for their own turn under our blades.

  “But you didn’t, pet,” I soothed, stroking across his back, loving the play of muscles beneath my fingers. His eyes were hooded as he smiled down at me, his grin as wicked as mine.

  “Not a mistake I’ll be making again. I have him, mistress. Go relax. You can bathe in him later while I see how good the rest of you tastes. I wouldn’t have you sully your mouth with something as foul as him.”

  Draven whistled behind me. “Who knew the pretty boy had a mouth on him?” I licked my lips but headed back to the wall between the twins, content to watch him work. “Tell me, princess, did he taste as good as I think he did?”

  “Better,” I purred. “Far better.” I could only hope that when he sealed his demon back inside him, he’d still want to play with me this way. As much as I craved his blood, needing another taste of him, I craved his body as well. Now that he was willing, I’d take him any way he’d let me. Clyde’s screams and sobs grew in earnest as I watched Sebastian’s blade carve into the other man’s face, and I knew my pet was going to reenact every wound that had been inflicted on his own body until he was given all the answers he wanted. Then, and only then, would my pet let the man die. I smiled madly through the next scream as I watched my demon work. Yes, this was what I wanted—who I wanted—and I would do whatever was necessary to let his demon side out to play over and over again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elsie

  I wasn’t sure how many hours had passed since my pet had begun having his fun. He had already killed t
wo of the extraneous prisoners, and he had bound the female to the chair. If he’d thought I’d have an issue with him torturing or killing women, he had been in for a surprise. So many men—even among vampires—saw women as weaker, quieter, more fragile. I was proof that we were none of those things. We were predators, killers, torturers, and schemers, anything and everything a man could be. Our gender didn’t lower our propensity for evil, if anything it simply made it easier to hide. Whereas Sebastian had to lock his darkness away, a woman’s darkness was usually ignored, especially by the men around her. There was an innate expectation that we would never truly do anything bad, and if we tried, the men around us would have the upper hand. That was what usually led to their death.

  As the female—she had told us her name was Della—sobbed and writhed against her bonds, Sebastian held out a hand for me, and I gladly joined him, letting him cradle me against his chest. The blood that coated him was still hot as my bare back pressed against his chest, and I moaned at the sensation of the thick liquid sliding between us.

  “I think they’re ready for us,” he murmured into my ear, his teeth tracing the curve as his hand wrapped around my throat.

 

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