by Talyn Scott
“No one has official business with our sire, not today. He is burying one of our own.”
“Not yet,” Oycher said, glancing at his watch. “The executions have yet to take place.”
“No, but the funeral pyre is prepared for our beloved Edik. He will be celebrated as an honorable hunter should be. You and yours are not welcome into this realm, until his service has adjourned,” the Gryph sneered. “I’ll summon you from the marsh when we’ve carried in the Vojak and the Vampyr.”
Oycher went glacial. “What do you mean, carried them in?”
“Don’t cry yet, Commander. They’re still breathing.” The Gryph placed his fingertip on Oycher’s medal and pushed ever so slightly. “But you didn’t think we’d let them get away with murdering Edik without a little torture before final death, did you?”
Scarlett fought vehemently to keep her mouth closed, remembering what Sixten said about strength. She refused to let this Gryph, and the twenty or so surrounding them in full armor and battle spears, see her terror at what he’d done to her males. Discretely, Nolan took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. But by the clamminess of his palm, he was the one who needed the reassuring.
The Gryph stepped closer.
Oycher lunged.
In the next second, they were rolling on the ground. Black feathers were flying all over the place. And to Oycher’s credit, he was clearly holding his own.
Sixten tugged on her opposite hand, trying to weave Scarlett and Nolan around the snarling onlookers — all Gryphs and even Lovci holding ceremonial spears, complete with sharp, working tips.
Then a fight broke out between Sixten and the remaining winged vampires. She ducked too many fists before one clipped her hard, sending her flying back. But a hand landed on Scarlett’s shoulder, right as Sixten and Nolan completely disappeared within the scrimmage. She whipped around fists first, slamming into the Gryph’s chest and hearing a resounding crack from her hand.
“Ah!” she shook it out, trying to skirt him.
The Gryph tossed her over his shoulder and propelled her through the growing crowd; the angry funeral goers starting to take on a mob mentality. “I’ve got the Bride,” he said, smacking her on the ass to the delight of the others. Scarlett could hear jeers mixed with disdainful threats as the Gryph picked up speed, and took off into the air.
Her head dangled, her legs the only thing the Gryph was holding onto. And Scarlett wondered where he was going to dump her body. But she wasn’t afraid like she should have been. All she could do is pray for Sage and Roman, beg for a reprieve so Oycher could present the evidence Volos had been seeking all along.
The evidence that was nearly too late.
Something caught at the corner of her eye; Scarlet blinked a few times. “Flames!”
“Immortal fire, you bitch,” the Gryph said as he landed on a small keep with a flat yet entirely open roof, made so the Gryphs and Lovec could step from the ledge and take instant flight.
As he intended when dumping her, the jagged stone broke Scarlett’s fall. But she didn’t make a sound at the pain.
“I know Master Fedor personally.” Scarlett stood and stepped away from the barrier free ledge, fighting not to rub her ass and give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. “He won’t appreciate the way you’re treating me.”
“Right.” He leered down at her. “I’m to believe that my master even acknowledges you.”
Out of nowhere, he backhanded her. The warm rush of blood filled her mouth. Scarlett spat it out, right on his boots. Then screamed when he lifted her by the throat and sent her airborne. She caught herself on the roof’s ledge, somehow holding on by an arm and a leg.
But she was slipping.
And far below were clouds.
His booted foot came down on her hand, crunching the bone she’d already snapped on his breastplate, and a few more. Tears burned her eyes, mixing with the blood, and she strained to see clearly.
The Gryph clucked his tongue at her. “Where’s your Vojak now, bitch?”
“Say what you want about Sage.” She wiggled her foot towards the left to gain ground, biting back her wince as he pressed further on her hand. “But he’d never brutalize a human, much less a human woman!”
In a blurring movement, Scarlett landed back on the roof’s center. And though she wasn’t dangling over an open space above the clouds, her current position was just as precarious.
The Gryph had landed between her thighs, pressing his armored chest against her breasts. His weight was inconceivable and allowed barely a breath in her lungs.
“Define brutalize,” he laughed, while sniffing at her throat where her dripping blood pooled.
“What you’re doing right now, for starters.” No matter which way she moved, he kept her effectively pinned. “And I’m telling you that no matter what you think Sage did, Master Fedor will have you whipped for this.” She tried to kick out, but he shoved his knee into her groin. “And I don’t mean that playing around stuff like at Prince Volos’ swimming pool. You’re going down for making me bleed.”
With his fingers wrapped around her wrists, the Gryph brought them high above her head and gripped them in one of his hands. “Tough words from the helpless.”
“Bastard!”
“He has such a temper, your Sage. I’ll make sure to tell him, right before he dies, how I tasted your blood. A fond last memory, I think.”
He slanted his mouth over her throat, and sank his fangs deep into her. And unlike Fedor or her males, this Gryph had no intention of releasing any endorphins. He wanted this bite to burn like hell, to boil her bone marrow. And when he tore away from the bite with a snapping strength of his inhuman jaw, brutally ripping away her flesh with his dagger-like fangs, Scarlett lost hope of seeing Roman and Sage one last time.
Because she would die first.
When he raised his face with his mouth covered in her blood, he praised her taste. “I knew a little adrenalin would spice you up.”
“There’s a special place in hell for you, Gryph, alongside Edik.”
“You’ll be visiting him long before me.” With his freehand, the Gryph held the back of her head, kneading it as he took another bite. But this time he didn’t tear. Instead, he took a drink, caving into the blood that called his vampire to feed.
So he drank deeply.
The force of his pulls going so deep that Scarlett thought her heart would give out. But maybe this was what he wanted after all, to drink her to death in the name of Edik.
“What in the name of Prince Volos have you done?” a voice boomed from high above.
The Gryph stiffened while retracting his fangs. When he reared up, giving Scarlett a window of space, where she attempted to roll to the side.
His big hand slammed down, right on her broken one. But his face was up, staring in disbelief at the sky.
Above, Scarlett spotted familiar golden, arm bands. “Master Fedor!”
His wings spreading wide to slow his descent, Fedor then curled them as he hovered above the roof. Though he didn’t take his topaz eyes from the other Gryph’s body, she could tell by his stance that Fedor smelled her blood and took great offense at her injuries.
“Help me get to Prince Volos,” she pleaded. “I have proof, Fedor.”
But Fedor wasn’t listening to her. “Get off her.”
“My Master,” the Gryph pleaded as he stood. “Why shouldn’t I enjoy the spoils of war?”
“A female is never spoils from a vampire war.” Fedor’s wing whipped out, his claws slashing the Gryph across his armored chest. The breastplate broke in three places. Two pieces fell to the rooftop and the other dangled from his shoulder.
Fedor stepped forward, and with a move Scarlett couldn’t follow, he now held the Gryph’s beating heart in his hand.
The Gryph gasped while falling to his knees. “Master, she’s… the Vojak’s Bride.”
“Apologize for drawing her blood,” Fedor demanded, sliding out a great sword he
didn’t even need. But killing in this world, Scarlett realized, often demanded great ceremony to feed arrogance.
“I don’t want an apology,” she insisted, shoving her broken hand under her opposite arm. “I just need to find Nolan and get to Prince Volos.”
“I’ve already found your Nolan,” Fedor finally addressed Scarlett. He tipped his chin, and she looked up. Flying in the arms of a Gryph, Nolan looked like he was going to vomit.
Fedor pointed the tip of his sword at the base of her attacker’s throat. “Last chance, apologize for drawing Scarlett’s blood.”
Through a wheezing gasp, the Gryph admitted defeat. “I apologize to Scarlett for drawing first blood that she never offered to me.”
Fedor smiled coldly, his green glittering eyes a… Scarlett did a double-take. But she kept her mouth shut as Fedor signaled for one of his soldiers. “You bear witness to his omission?”
“Yes, My Master.”
“Then take care of him for me.”
“My pleasure.”
With a gallant swoop, the Dynasty Empire’s Master Gryph lifted Scarlett in his colossal arms and took flight.
Chapter 25
“Tell me you didn’t hurt the real Fedor,” Scarlett said to Sixten, her eyes searching down at the crowd of funeral goers as he stretched his black wings out on either side of them.
“I have no idea where Fedor is. I’m guessing he’s by the funeral pyre, considering he’s sending off one of his own.”
“If they catch you, you’ll end up — ”
“In the human world, black is the color of mourning.”
“And I noticed red is the color for vampires mourning,” she said, wondering why he’d changed the subject so oddly.
He lowered his altitude, swooping farther away from a Gryph who was getting too close. “Did you wonder, then, why I bought you a white dress instead of a red one?”
“Only for a second, I’ve been preoccupied.”
“I did it because I never believed in hope.”
She spotted a terrible mushroom of smoke fed by climbing blue flames. “I’m not following.”
“Hope is the expectation that what you desire could happen.” He veered left, circling the castle. “Though I’d never before experienced hope in my life, even long after I found Blythe. But once we’d separated for years, I cultivated hope. And that white dress — ”
“Was your hope for Sage.”
“Yes, that he would somehow keep you for an eternity in the way I also hope to keep Blythe. I didn’t know how it was going to happen but — ”
“You’re not as crazy as everyone makes you out to be.”
“Trust me, I am.” His lips peeled from his fangs. “Or I wouldn’t be impersonating Prince Volos’ righthand male. Ah, here he comes now.”
“What?” she glanced around, a new rush of horror coming at her.
“Just kidding.”
She wanted to hit him now. “On second thought, maybe you are crazy.”
Sixten snapped out his wings as he landed. “Actually, Fedor is next to the funeral pyre, just as I suspected. You and Nolan have to run. I’ll be executed myself, if they catch me.”
It just now hit her. “Did you say, funeral pyre?”
Sixten nodded as he took to the sky, trying to avoid the other Gryph who landed with Nolan in tow.
“What the fuck is going on here?” The Gryph took in Scarlett’s battered body.
Nolan reared back and landed a mighty uppercut on the Gryph, momentarily stunning him and toppling him backwards.
“How did you do that?” She yanked his hand through a mob of mourners to get to the funeral pyre.
“It’s their arrogance,” Nolan said as he lifted her at the waist and gained speed. “They never expect you to go for their pretty faces.”
He whirled Scarlett around a marbled alter ingrained with crimson that made her blood run even colder than it had the moment she’d stepped foot back into this realm. She looked up, right to its center. “What a minute!”
“No time!” He charged forward, ducking under an upraised wing. “They’re lowering Edik’s body on the immortal fire. We’ve barely a chance!”
‘I love you,’ she mouthed to Sage and Roman, both poised and bound atop the marble alter, being treated as sacrificial animals. Both shared simultaneous looks of rage as they took in her battered and bloodied form. Then they strained to yell at her though their gags, while Scarlett and Nolan headed straight for the burning funeral pyre, specifically aiming at the prince of vampires.
Hanging onto Nolan’s massive shoulders with her good hand as he kept her waist secured, Scarlett forced her gaze away from her males, wincing and kicking out whenever a hand or sword swung her way.
Suddenly, a blazing flash erupted, sending off rumbling waves of heat. Scarlett gasped for air as thundered cracks sounded overhead. Daring to look up, she spotted raised hands lifting ceremonial, armored helmets and gilded spears in unison. The Gryphs and Lovci were chanting in that foreign language Sage and Roman had sputtered beneath their breath a time or two. And Scarlett wished she could plug her ears to the irritating rhythm, the chant for their fallen hunter grated on something sharp and wild inside of her.
She smashed her teeth together when Nolan sprinted forward, jostling her right as another rolling rumble erupted in the crowd. Then another sweltering blast of heat passed quick on its heels. Feathers and spears went flying everywhere when Nolan’s steps faltered, before they came to an abrupt stop.
Nolan set her down, then pushed Scarlett behind his broad back. But she refused to hide, and ducked beneath his arm to step in front of him. Prince Volos was leading the chant, watching on in reverence as the fire reached Edik’s torso.
“No!” Scarlett cried out. “Stop the fire!”
Volos’ face whipped to the side, catching sight of her. His outrage evident as he demanded, “You have pushed me too far!”
From that wild, sharp thing spiraling inside her chest, Volos had also pushed her too far. “Stop the fire! I have the evidence!”
From his look, Volos didn’t believe her, obviously thinking it was a trick to free her males. Because he signaled for Roman and Sage to be lowered from the marble alter and held secure within the numerous arms of Gryphs.
The worst possible place for them to be.
Someone tried to grab her from the back, but she spun out in a move she hadn’t attempted but somehow only felt. And when her foot made contact with a Gryph’s elbow, cracking it a good one, Scarlett felt a power rise in her that was clearly not human. Her dormant werewolf genetics were rising, and she welcomed them wholly.
Then, to her utter astonishment, her incisors sharpened painfully as her vision shifted to blue ice. Scarlett felt a sudden relief take hold. But stopped to appreciate the sensation a second too long, and allowed a Gryph to whip out his wing and slam Scarlett and Nolan against a towering pillar. Their heads clacked as they went down, but both managed to stay conscious.
Volos’ outrage shifted to the Gryph, a hiss sounding like a thousand coiled rattlers escaped from his open mouth right as his fangs dropped. “You dare to injure a female in my court?”
“She was threatening you, sire, disturbing Edik’s burial of honor.”
Without moving, Volos attacked the Gryph, sending him to his knees with sudden blood trickling from his ears.
Scarlett fought a gag and stayed focused. “I have evidence Edik’s not the honorable male you say he was.”
“Your time is already up.”
She tried to stand, but one leg wobbled. Nolan got up slower than her, yet he caught Scarlett before she went back down. “I still have a right to present it! Innocent people shouldn’t die.” She pointed to Edik’s body. “Please, stop the fire!”
“I will deal with you three after Edik’s service.” Volos, without any patience left, signaled for a fresh wave of Gryphs to cart them from the staging built around the funeral pyre.
Before one grabbed Scarlett, she thought a
bout what Nolan needed to do, and shred her blouse down the center. Buttons flew everywhere and she kept going, flicking off her bra and exposing her chest.
Volos eyes quickly shifted to her, just as Oycher arrived. He was battered far worse than her. So considering he was a vampire who quickly healed, Scarlett realized he’d fought long and hard to get to her.
“You would disrobe here?” Volos asked stepping towards her like she was a cornered animal. “This I have seen many times,” he said, waving a hand for the handlers to extinguish Edik’s fire, “where mortals break.”
Far from broken, she thrust out her breasts.
Volos’ eyes widened. “Who did this to you, Scarlett?”
“One of your Gryphs,” she growled, the glow of her blue eyes illuminating Volos’ perfect features. “As you can see for yourself, he treated me like a chew toy.”
A Gryph stepped forward. “This is true, sire, Master Fedor has ordered Theodoris’ execution for torturing this human.”
Fedor stepped forward, too, opening his mouth to argue. Scarlett shot him pleading eyes. He tilted his head, took another look at her chest, and closed his mouth with a slight nod.
Volos’ face tightened. “You will be greatly compensated for enduring this ghastly treatment, Scarlett.”
“I don’t want to be compensated.” She looked at Nolan, and he also tore his shirt, exposing his throat and chest to Volos and all other onlookers. “What I want is for you to see what some of your Lovec and Gryphs are doing in their spare time. I want you to see what Edik was really about.”
Nolan cleared his throat and addressed Volos for the first time. “I had to endure Edik’s mouth, fangs, claws, needs and equally deranged clients for more than four years.”
Volos became so still that Scarlett wasn’t sure he was breathing.
Scarlett wanted to look away from Nolan, as well, to pretend the savage bites and missing chunks of flesh didn’t litter his otherwise beautiful body. But she kept her eyes on the Donor, her newest friend, willing Nolan’s determination to whittle away the scars leftover from Edik’s evil.
