Revelation of Blood (14 page)

Read Revelation of Blood Online

Authors: J. L. McCoy

Tags: #Paranormal, #Romance

BOOK: Revelation of Blood
13.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Well, well,” I grinned, “if it isn’t the man
who loves to hate me. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in
you,” he smiled as he took my hand and tenderly kissed my knuckles.
“How are you?”

“I’m great…never been better, actually.
Listen, I never got to thank you for all that you and the Army did
to help me.”

“It is us who should be thanking you, child.
You are an extraordinary woman and our race owes you a debt of
gratitude for Amun’s capture,” the man accompanying Ruarc said with
a bow of his head.

“Skye, I’d like you to meet Ríoghán, leader
of the chosen Army of The Faithful,” Archer smiled.

“It’s a great honor to meet you, sir,” I
smiled, accepting his hand. “You have some wonderful men working
for you.”

“We are blessed,” he nodded his head, patting
the back of my hand. “Welcome to the family,
deirfiúr
.”

I thanked him and Archer spoke up. “It is a
pleasure to see you again, brother. It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” Ríoghán replied, shaking his hand
with a warm smile before a sad look replaced it. “I was very sorry
to hear about Treasach. He was a godly man. You have my deepest
condolences,
dheartháir
.”

Archer sighed and a haunted look passed over
his eyes. “Thank you, Ríoghán. He and his family will be greatly
missed.”

The deep, reverberating sound of church bells
rang out, drawing all of our attention as Heinrich Hirsch addressed
the crowd. “The celebratory ball will now begin in the great
hall.”

I looked up at Archer in surprise and he
winked down at me. “Now it’s time for the real fun.”

Archer allowed Ruarc to escort me to the ball
which was located in another part of the church. I swallowed hard
and fought off a wave of nervousness when we arrived.

Men and women alike packed the hall as a
string quartet played beautiful, classical music on stage. I was
immediately whisked away by Cardinal Flannigan who proceeded to
introduce me around the room.

I met and took pictures with important Day
Walker dignitaries who had come from all over the world to
celebrate this day with me. I tried my best to get over the anxiety
I felt at all the attention. After all, I had made Archer a promise
when we landed in Boston to try and, if all else failed, to fake
it. But, the more people I met, the more I felt like a walking
oddity; a science experiment on display. One man from Russia asked
me to teleport for him and, after getting over the shock of it, I
politely declined. I didn’t want anyone to know that I couldn’t do
it, that I hadn’t been able to do it since the night we captured
Amun. It was too embarrassing.

Speaking of Amun, he was all people seemed to
talk about. I got question after question about what it was like in
that basement in east Austin where Amun tortured me, what it was
like to be in the presence of true evil, and worst of all, what it
felt like to have him invade my mind and dream walk with me.

I politely excused myself after one
particularly horrifying discussion with a Day Walker from Uganda,
and sought out the open bar. After securing a tall glass of red
wine, I searched the room for Archer and Jameson. Archer was busy
speaking with someone, and by the way they were laughing and
talking animatedly, I knew he wouldn’t be done anytime soon. I
found Jameson out on the dance floor, dancing with the wife of the
Russian man who’d asked me to teleport for him. Jameson seemed to
feel my gaze, because his eyes immediately lifted to find mine. His
brow furrowed briefly before a question formed on his face. It
looked like he was asking me what I wanted, but I shook my head and
decided to leave him be to have his fun. We weren’t really friends
anymore and I didn’t want to bother him with my problems.

Needing a minute to myself, I snuck out one
of the side doors and took a deep, cleansing breath of fresh air,
happy to be out in the cool night air. Being inside around all
those people and talking about the horrors that had happened to me
at Amun’s hands was a bit too much to deal with. I knew the
vampires weren’t trying to be rude by asking me questions, just
genuinely curious, but still…having to relive some of the worst
memories of my life was anything but fun and definitely not how I
saw my night going when I’d arrived.

I walked a little further around the grounds
and suddenly found myself in a beautiful rose garden. Statues of
Mary, Saint Patrick with his shield, and Saint Ailbe of Emly kept
me company as I sat on one of the many benches and sipped my wine,
taking in the fragrant beauty around me. It was just what I needed
to recharge.

Having finished my glass, I was preparing to
get up and go back inside when I heard footsteps behind me.

“Good evening, Miss Morrison,” a voice said
and I turned to look at him as he approached my bench. I hadn’t
seen him before but the fact that he knew who I was didn’t surprise
me; everyone seemed to know who I was around here.

“Good evening,” I replied as I mentally
prepared myself for the questions he would undoubtedly ask me. I
hadn’t met a single person tonight, aside from Ríoghán, Cardinal
Flannigan, and Heinrich Hirsch who’d refrained.

“May I have a seat?” he asked politely as he
motioned to the spot beside me. I nodded my head as I spun the stem
of my wine glass between my fingers. As he sat, he put his hands in
his jacket pockets. “I’m surprised to find you out here.”

“I just needed a little air,” I smiled
tightly.

“Tough night?” he asked sympathetically,
turning fully to me.

I shrugged one shoulder and took a deep
breath before blowing it out. “Not exactly. Just a little
overwhelming.”

“Well, then let me apologize for this
beforehand,” he said solemnly before his hand flashed to my chest
and I felt a sharp stinging pain.

Too shocked to really react, I looked
dumbfoundedly down at my chest. The man had a large syringe in his
hand and the needle was buried deep in my heart. I heard the sound
of glass breaking at my feet before my world shifted and everything
went black.

 

**********

 

I heard someone calling my name and I
groggily peeled my eyes open. My vision swam for a moment before my
vampire senses sharpened. Blinking rapidly, I took in the room
around me.

A middle aged man with long black hair and
striking blue eyes was sitting a few feet away from me on a raised,
elaborate gold throne. My eyes assessed him then immediately
flashed to my surroundings. I saw that we were in a large,
cavernous stone room and by the coolness in the air, I guessed we
were somewhere deep underground. Rather than seeing, I heard ten to
twenty people shuffling a few yards behind me before I turned my
eyes to the man who had a hold of my left elbow, no doubt helping
me stand. I had never seen him before; I’d never seen any of them
before.

What the hell is going on? Who are these
people and how did I get here?
I thought with rising panic. I
suddenly remembered being in the St. Ailbe church garden and
meeting a man; a man who ultimately injected my heart with
something. My eyes slowly slid down to my chest and zeroed in on
the puncture mark in my brand new evening gown. A small stain
surrounded the hole, ruining the material even further.
So much
for having nice things
.

“Aww…dammit!” I wrinkled my face unhappily as
I sighed heavily in disappointment. “I just got this dress!”

“I regret that your dress was damaged, Miss
Morrison,” the man on the throne said as he tilted his head to the
side, “but I’m afraid that was the only way we could secure an
audience with you.”

Kidnapped…I’d been kidnapped again.
Why do
I have the worst luck
? I took a deep breath and looked down at
the floor, slowly letting my anger consume me. I was mad…livid, and
these people were about to see how grave of a mistake they made in
thinking they could kidnap me. Allowing my eyes to flicker
completely black, I slid my gaze back up to the man in front of me.
“I don’t take too kindly to being kidnapped, Dark One,” I growled
lowly as I let my fangs drop. “In fact, it completely pisses me
off.”

“I told you that kidnapping her wasn’t the
best plan, father,” a familiar voice said behind me and a second
later, Corvus Frost appeared at my side. He turned to me, his
bright green eyes drinking me in from head to toe, as he smiled
sexily, “Hello again, Skye.”

Damn, Corvus looked good, but unfortunately
now was not the time to stop and enjoy the sights. “Corvus,” I
replied, narrowing my eyes at him before bringing my attention back
to the man on the throne. “So, I guess that makes you Atticus
Frost.”

“Indeed,” he smiled, inclining his head. “I
see you’ve heard of me.”

“Not really,” I explained with a tired cock
of my eyebrow. “You’ve got exactly two minutes to satisfactorily
explain why I’m here, Mr. Frost. At the conclusion, if I’m still
bored, I’m going to kill your man here,” I tilted my head to the
left, indicating the man holding my elbow.

“Jarvis,” Atticus motioned with his hand, “I
think you ought to let go of our guest now.” Jarvis quickly dropped
my elbow and flashed to stand with the group behind me.

“We mean you no harm, Skye Morrison,” the
leader of the Dark Ones smiled tightly at me as he stood. “Your
existence became known to us a mere fortnight ago. We heard rumors
of a girl who’d been given half the soul of our creator; a creator
we thought had died many, many millennia ago. You must understand
we’ve been very eager to meet the woman who was sired by our very
own creator. And what an oddity you’ve turned out to be.”

“Insulting me isn’t earning you any brownie
points, Dark One,” I frowned, crossing my arms under my chest.

“Please forgive me, but you misunderstand,”
Atticus said smoothly as he stepped down from his throne and took a
few steps toward me. Corvus and two other men flashed to flank him,
no doubt intending to protect their leader. The action made me
chuckle audibly. If I wanted to kill Atticus, there was nothing
anyone could do to stop me. Nothing on this Earth but the Sword of
Saint Patrick could kill me and that was safely ensconced in
Austin, Texas.

“We’d like to offer you a home here with us,”
Atticus continued. “Even though you are part Day, your soul is
still Dark. Your eyes confirm our greatest hope, Skye. Your
immortal body contains the soul of our father, thus making you
incredibly important to us, which brings me to my greatest wish. I
want you to join us and make your immortal home among your own
kind, those who will worship you as the goddess you are.”

My eyes grew wide at his words and I scoffed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Atticus’ spine straightened and he frowned.
The change in his demeanor was like a cold bucket of ice water
thrown in the faces of those in the room. Some gasped while others
murmured their shock. “I assure you, Miss Morrison, I am not the
kidding kind,” he said sharply.

“I did everything in my power to put down
Amun, your so-called creator. I tried to kill him and in doing so,
almost killed myself. You have to know that I hate everything about
him; everything he stands for.” I took a deep breath and frowned
confusedly up at Atticus. “Shouldn’t you be angry at me, Frost?
Shouldn’t you want to avenge your father or something? I don’t get
it. Why are you offering me a place here with you if I did
everything I could to kill the monster you seem to hold so
dear?”

Hushed whispers swept the room as Atticus and
I looked at each other. Finally, he sighed and spoke. “There are
ancient writings hinting to the age of our creator. Some say he is
well over twenty millennia, some say older.”

“He told me he was tens of thousands of years
old,” I confirmed with a nod, “but he didn’t give me an exact
date.”

“When a human ages past a certain point, they
have a tendency to lose their minds. The same can be said for an
immortal. Amun has lived far longer than one should and it is my
belief that he belongs locked away from the world. He went on a Day
Walker killing spree that, quite frankly, caused me and every Dark
One on the planet some grief. We are not at war with the Day and
yet Amun chose to start one. He did it for purely selfish reasons,
without thinking of how his choices would negatively impact his
children, and this is unacceptable to me. I’ve worked hard during
my reign over the Dark race to modernize our ways and thinking. We
are not barbarians; we do not go on killing sprees eradicating
whole family lines as Amun just did. We may be Dark, but we are not
evil, Miss Morrison; we are not monsters. Amun became a mindless
monster and he deserves to be locked away so that he cannot hurt
you or others with his insanity again. It is my wish that his line
live on, though, and that is why I’d like for you to join us. You
belong here.”

I stared at Atticus, thoroughly shocked to
say the least.
He’s happy
? My brain just couldn’t process
it. “Look,” I explained diplomatically as to not straight up insult
the man. “I’m a Day Walker, plain and simple. Archer Rhys is my
father; he created me, not Amun. I’m flattered that you think I
belong here, but the truth is…I don’t.”

Atticus considered my words for a moment and
then made a motion with his hand. “Maybe this will change your
mind.”

I heard footsteps as someone broke from the
crowd and walked forward. A second later Lucian, the man I’d met at
Les Oubliette, appeared before me. “Hello, Skye,” he smiled
warmly.

“Lucian?” I frowned, shocked to see him
standing in front of me. “I don’t understand. What are you doing
here?”

“Tell her, cousin,” Corvus said excitedly
with a satisfied grin.

“This wasn’t exactly the way I’d envisioned
you finding out,” Lucian said gently as he took my hand in his,
covering it with the other, and then taking a deep breath. “I’m
your father, Skye.”

Other books

Fervor de Buenos Aires by Jorge Luis Borges
Spotted Cats by William G. Tapply
The Stolen Lake by Aiken, Joan
A Prayer for the City by Buzz Bissinger
Pile of Bones by Bailey Cunningham
Stop What You’re Doing and Read This! by Carmen Callil, Nicholas Carr, Jane Davis, Mark Haddon, Blake Morrison, Tim Parks, Michael Rosen, Zadie Smith, Jeanette Winterson, Dr Maryanne Wolf & Dr Mirit Barzillai
Only The Dead Don't Die by Popovich, A.D.
Las correcciones by Jonathan Franzen