Read Caressed by a Crimson Moon (Rulers of Darkness) Online
Authors: Amanda J. Greene
He turned and his eyes narrowed as they fell upon the bagged blood. With slow, deliberate strides he approached his desk. For a long moment he stood, his eyes riveted on the bag, his body frozen.
Feed,
he commanded himself.
His fangs lengthened in his mouth and yet, he could not bring himself to take up the bag.
He circled the desk twice before lowering his frame onto the throne-like chair.
The beast within him was hungry. For a week, he had refused the demon’s call to feed. He needed to rebuild his strength, but he loathed the vampire within him with such a passion that he would rather starve than give into it’s demands.
The bag glowed a seductive crimson in the candlelight, taunting him.
He brought his elbows up, resting them on the polished edge of the desk.
Remember the taste,
his demon whispered.
Remember the warmth.
Memories.
They always came with blood, united as one. Memories of sin, torture, screams of fear, screams of unimaginable pain, and death. Always death.
Did he dare drink? Should he risk falling into a maddened rage?
He needed to feed. He needed to keep his strength up and build his power. Hadrian could feel his madness build in the back of his mind. Like a shadow, it lurked ever closer. A bloodcurdling shriek rang in his ears as his entire body began to shake.
No.
He gripped his head, his fingers dug into his skull. The stinging scent of smoke clouded around him as he struggled against the memories. A deep, satanic laughter filled his head. Imbrasus stood over his victims, who cowered in the corner of their crude hut, flames licked ever closer. A mother wrapped her arms about her children as her husband tried to combat the fire with his tattered cloak.
No. No!
His chest heaved as he desperately drew in the cool crisp air that surrounded him in reality. The memories…he was not there. He was in his castle. He was not there.
The flames grew higher as they advanced on the humans. Imbrasus’s eyes danced with murderous laughter as he watched. He stood in the doorway, blocking the only exit. He held a woman by her hair as she wept, blood and bruises colored her face.
“You didn’t listen, girl,” Imbrasus snarled. “Perhaps I should feed the flames with your useless carcass as well.”
Hadrian lashed out, sweeping his arm back. His chair splintered against the stone floor.
Burning flesh, the aroma was so strong he could taste it. Bile rose in his throat. He covered his nose as he staggered to the balcony, taking in gulp after gulp of clean winter air.
Anger filled his heart as the scene continued to play within his mind. If only he could have been there. He would have taken great pleasure in watching his maker, the Father of his clan, burn to ash.
Another scream sounded as the girl cried out for her family. Imbrasus continued to laugh as the shrieks of his victims vibrated the night, then he shoved the girl to the ground. She kicked and scratched as she fought the depraved vampire. Her fear was a sweet, alluring perfume, urging the beast on.
Rage began to pump like gasoline through Hadrian’s veins as the scene continued. He found himself praying that he could save the girl, but he knew well how this memory ended, just like all the others.
He violently shook his head as his hips collided with the balcony wall.
When had he stepped outside? It didn’t matter. He needed action.
Run.
With a glance to the snow covered lawn below, he jumped. His feet hit the ground without a sound, his boots leaving the slightest impression. Shutting down his senses, blocking everything out, he ruthlessly shoved his maker’s evil memories aside and ran. As fast as he could, he ran, tearing through the labyrinth, across the frozen lake, deep into the darkness, seeking refuge amongst the trees.
His rage fueled him on as he crashed through the dense forest.
Run. Keep running. Escape the memories. Escape the death.
Eva groaned when the clock on the mantle elegantly chimed three. She slid from the bed and began to pace the room again. She could not stop thinking about her encounter with the king. He was a powerful, mysterious, and all together lethal vampire and he had made her desire him. She had struggled to find a logical explanation to her reaction, but came up with nothing. With a sigh, she acknowledged that her confinement was not helping her bewildering thoughts and restlessness.
She circled about the room. Though the space was large and stylish, she felt trapped. At her father’s village, she had been treated like a prisoner, always locked away, always caged. She craved movement and she wanted out. Now. But Falcon was right, she admitted, she could easily get lost and she did not want to be caught by the king again.
Or did she?
No, of course not.
She paced by the door for the hundredth time, casting a longing glance to the knob. It wasn’t locked. Maybe, if she just stepped out into the hall for a moment she would feel better. She shook her head. No, she would wander away. She would be unable to resist the urge to roam. In frustration, she threw her hands in the air. Hoping a shower might help calm her, she went to the dark polished dresser and pulled out a set of pajamas before stomping to the bathroom.
Having inspected the washroom earlier, she had been pleased to find it stocked with all the necessities. After placing her neatly folded pajama pant and tank top set on the counter, she grabbed a bottle of body wash, then studied the collection of expensive shampoos and conditioners and randomly selected a French pair. She turned on the shower and quickly ditched her t-shirt and sweats.
The warm water that rained down from the numerous showerheads was soothing. She took her time bathing and washing her hair, savoring the heated water and privacy. For the past ten years she had bathed in a communal shower with chilled water. Well, no one had actually bathed with her, no one dared to be that close to the half-breed.
“Another positive check for the vampires,” she said as she sat on the bench, basking in the heat and steam that gathered in the roomy glass shower stall.
God, she had missed true civilization. The shifters she had lived among envisioned themselves superior to the human race, deciding that living in the jungle with few modern amenities and technology was the way to go. She rubbed the back of her neck and snorted. The pack was nothing but backward, from their views of the world, of women, of war, everything. Why could they not be like most other shifter packs and live with humans? Have normal homes, eat at restaurants, and enjoy dance clubs and movie theaters.
Enjoy everything I once had.
She had lived within human society the majority of her life
. She and her mother had lived happily together, just the two of them before cancer stole her mother’s life and her father claimed hers. She had attended public schools, making friends with humans and even a few shifters. Never had they treated her like a leper or made her feel inferior.
With a sigh, she turned the water off, quickly dried and dressed. Out of habit, she brushed out her thick hair with her fingers, instead of using one of ivory combs, and fastened it in one long braid that extended to her hips. Next, she stoked the fire. It’s flames came back to life with a vengeance and she happily greeted the warmth. Eva fell into a chair and brought her legs up. She hugged them to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. For a while she sat, gazing into the fire. The shower had helped, but she still fought the urge to glance at the door.
Never had she felt so restless, not even during a full moon when she was locked in her hut while the pack shifted into animal form. Their snarls, growls, and fights would echo in the night and, being a half-breed, she remained in human form. Her body grew tense as she tried to keep her focus on the elegant dancing flames.
When the clock’s beautiful melody chimed four, Eva cursed and jumped to her feet.
“That’s it.”
She stormed back into the bathroom and threw open the door to the walk in closet. She wiggled free from her pajama pants and quickly pulled on a set of dark jeans, slid her feet into thick socks and tied on her snow boots. All the while, she silently thanked Falcon for purchasing these items for her. After she snatched a powder blue down jacket, matching beanie and gloves, she reentered her room. Eva paused before the door, her hand hovering just above the knob. She knew she should stay. She knew Falcon was right and the last thing she wanted was to get lost in this inexplicably large castle. Or be found by the king…
An unseen force beckoned to her, calling to the dormant wildness within her. She wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and
run
.
Eva rubbed her temples and dropped her head.
“What is wrong with me?”
She had never craved movement so much in her life. She needed to be out of this castle. She longed to feel the cool wind whip at her cheeks, the moon kiss her skin and…She frowned as her heart began to slam in her chest. There was something else. Something in the back of her mind demanding that she go into the night. She knew there was something out there. Something she…needed.
Eva opened the door and stuck her head out into the hall. She looked both ways before silently tiptoeing from the room, closing the door. She retraced her steps, descending to the main level and out the front door.
Relief filled her as the wind rushed over her. She quickly tucked her ears beneath the beanie and shoved her hands into her gloves. Taking in a deep breath, she filled her lungs with the clean scent of trees and freshly fallen snow.
“Okay, I’m outside. Where to now?”
An odd sensation compelled her to turn right. She walked along the wall of the castle and continued around until she came to a terrace. The furniture was covered with tarps weighted down by snow. Coming to the edge, she was shocked by what she could see. Below was a large hedge made labyrinth, with a building of made of glass at its center and a lake, frosted over by ice, towards the back. A village of cottages and small empty shops huddled together against the line of trees. The forest beyond stretched to the horizon.
She quickly descended the steps from the terrace and paused when she came to the entrance of the labyrinth. Should she enter? Did she dare? Again, an odd feeling swept over her. Not one of fear, but of excitement. Confusion clouded her mind while instinct compelled her forward.
Eva slowly wound through the maze, using her photographic memory to find its center. She was almost certain the glass building was a green house and she was anxious to see what kind of tropical plants would be living such fragile lives in these unforgiving mountains.
Her steps faltered as she came to a bend. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
She was not alone.
Eva froze and strained her senses. Her hearing and eyesight was slightly better than a human’s but nothing compared to a full shifter or—she swallowed hard—a vampire. Unable to detect anything, she slowly crept forward. Placing her back against the twelve-foot tall hedge wall, she peeked around the corner.
A man sat on a white marble bench, his elbows resting on his knees, his head hung low. She could only see his perfectly hard profile and her heart skipped a beat as her breath caught. High, bold cheekbones and a straight, stern jaw descended to thin, yet enticing lips. His hair was black and buzzed in an extremely short military fashion. To her disappointment, his eyes were closed, but she knew they would be intense. He was dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the white that surrounded him.
Raw power radiated from him. He was pure unadulterated male. Lethal. She knew instinctively that this vampire was the crazed king, Hadrian Lucretius. The man—no, the beast that had ensnared her in the hall.
His eyes remained closed as his lips pulled back from his long, white fangs tinted with red.
Blood.
She knew she ought to be horrified but as before…he was making her lust. Her body was hot and heavy, her breathing came in soft gasps, and heat spiraled through her core as she recalled the feel of his powerful body looming over her.
“I know you’re there.” His voice was deep and heavily accented though his style of speech was modern. He spoke again, but she did not comprehend his words. She closed her eyes and savored his voice. Dark. Seductive. She shivered, not from cold, but from pleasure.
Nothing made sense. She knew her reaction was insane. She knew she should be terrified and run as fast as she could back to the castle and the safety of her room. But, she could not bring herself to leave, nor did she want to run. Her heart stuttered at the thought of him chasing her and something wild deep within her roared to life.
In a rush of movement, she was pulled forward and spun about. Her back slammed against the hedge, a cool, strong hand wrapped about her throat. Her cry of shock quickly faded to a gasp of delight. He stood before her, pinning her to the hedge. Her senses flared, taking in his fresh scent. He smelled of pine, wilderness, and male. His eyes gazed deeply into hers as if searching for her very soul. They were fathomless, obsidian pools that swirled with malice, grief, and…desire.