|
On Top Shelf
|
Exclusive Marketing Opportunities for Authors
Curious about how Fresh Access helps authors gain more visibility and connect with active readers?
Discover premium promotional opportunities, enhanced exposure, and author-focused services designed to help your books stand out.
|
Immortals After Dark #8 Read Kindle PreviewA DANGEROUS DEMON SHE CANβT RESIST . . . Malkom Slaine: tormented by his sordid past and racked by A MADDENING WITCH HE ACHES TO CLAIM . . . Carrow Graie: hiding her own sorrows, she lives only for TRAPPED TOGETHER IN A SAVAGE PRISON . . . In order for Malkom and Carrow to survive, he must Excerpt 1
βDo we go to our deathβor worse?β Malkom Slaine gazed over at his best friend, Prince Kallen the Just, wishing he had a better answer for him, anything to ease the apprehension in Kallenβs eyes. As the vampire guards shoved them along, deeper into their stronghold, Malkom suspected death might be welcome before the night was out. βThe rumors are likely untrue,β he lied, putting up a renewed resistance as the dozen guards forced them down a flight of stone steps. But his bonds were mystical; Malkom was unable to teleport or break free. At the base of the stairs lay a subterranean chamber with an ornate throne on a dais. Though the floor was of packed earth, the walls were hung with rich silks and tapestries. Rare crystal and glass adorned the room. At once, Malkom began analyzing every inch of the area for an escape. Ahead, a pair of winded demon slaves stood beside a freshly dug grave. More guards lined the walls, with swords at the ready. In the back, a black-robed sorcerer worked at a vial-cluttered table. Gods, let the rumors be untrue β¦ those whispers of the ScΓrbaβthe abominations. Kallen muttered, βCan you see a way out of this?β Normally, Malkom could. Without fail, he figured his way out of seemingly impossible predicaments. βNot as of yet.β The guards shoved Kallen and Malkom to their knees before the grave. βRonath will pay for this once I get free,β Kallen grated. Ronath the Armorer was a seasoned warrior, the strongest demon after Malkom. Heβd once been Kallenβs favored commander. βThe traitor will not see another night.β βTwas Ronath whoβd turned Malkom over to the vampires. Disastrous enough. But without Malkomβs unwavering defense, Kallenβs fortress had fallen just a week later. The Trothansβ beloved prince had been captured. Blinded by his hatred for Malkomβa slave turned commanderβRonath had unwittingly doomed Kallen and all the Trothans. Malkom had already planned his own revenge. As he was neither noble nor good like Kallen, his retribution would be far more vicious than the prince could ever envision. Without warning, a vampire traced into the room, teleporting directly onto the throne. Clad in costly silk robes, the male was pallid, his skin untouched by Oblivionβs blistering sun. His eyes were wholly red, his visage twisted by madness. The Viceroy. When the vampires had conquered Oblivion and turned it into a colony, theyβd dispatched the Viceroy, their most malicious leader, to act as ruler of the plane. βAh, my two new prisoners,β he said in Anglish. Though Malkom and Kallen both were fluent in the language, they refused to speak anything other than their native Demonishβeven as the use of that tongue was now punishable by death. The vampire rubbed his narrow, clean-shaven chin. βAt last, you have both been captured.β Malkom and the prince were the leaders of the rebellion, and to break them would be to break the resistance. The vampire overlords had searched for them relentlessly. When the Viceroy snapped his fingers, the two slaves exited the room, returning moments later with an unconscious demon boy. One of their own, handed over for a vampireβs refreshment. A leisurely repast. Malkom started sweating. He strained even harder against his bonds but couldnβt get free before the vampire collected the boy in his arms, then bent over his neck. At the sight, rage spiked within Malkom. Those sucking soundsβ¦ He bared his fangs, overwhelmed with memories of his childhood as a blood slave. His only consolation was that this boy was unconscious, a luxury he himself had never been afforded. Nor had Malkomβs neck been taken, for that skin would have been readily seenβand he hadnβt been kept only for his blood. βSteady, Malkom,β Kallen murmured in Demonish. βKeep your wits about you.β How many times had Kallen said those exact words? The prince has long kept me sane. The Viceroy dropped the boy from the dais to the ground like refuse, then dabbed at his lips with a crisp handkerchief. βI confess, you two fascinate me.β His red eyes burned with curiosity. βA friendship between a beloved royal and his brutal guard dog. The highest of the high, and β¦β He flicked his hand at Malkom. No one had been more perplexed by their friendship than Malkom. Kallen was the crown prince of the Trothan Demonarchy, hundreds of years old, and filled with wisdom. Malkom was the illiterate thirty-year- old son of a whore, raised as a vampireβs slaveβand filled with rage. Yet somehow he and Kallen had become comrades in arms, brothers by choice if not by blood. Kallen had said heβd recognized something in Malkom, an innate nobility. As if heβd known how badly Malkom wanted to be noble. βPenniless, ignorant, and fatherless,β the Viceroy intoned. βThe son of a demon whore who sold her body.β With a sneer, he added, βUntil she could sell one of her offspring.β Malkom could deny nothing. βHow easily you sprang to life, when you should have been no more than seeping waste in a back alley.β βIf Malkom is not noble in blood,β Kallen said, βthen he is noble in deed.β Kallen, still defending me. The Viceroy seemed amused. βI can imagine none so lowly, yet you had the gall to resist us, knowing death awaited. Amazingly, you very nearly routed us from your world, demon.β Malkom could scarcely comprehend this. Though heβd won numerous battles, he hadnβt imagined his foes were on the brink of surrender. Malkom had never known an Oblivion without the walking-dead vampires here. Decades before his birth, they had arrived from an alien plane filled with myriad breeds of immortals and mortals, settling here for one reason. Blood. When the vampires consumed Trothan blood, it made them more powerful than theyβd ever been, made them heal from injuries more swiftly. Blood had eventually become the currency in Oblivion. βSo very nearly,β the Viceroy continued. βBut in the end, breeding will tell.β The vampire traced to stand just beside them. βYou can dress in your fine warrior clothing.β He reached down to rip Malkomβs rich cloak from him. βBut you can only mask what you truly are. Under those manacles at your wrists, I bet I would find bite scars.β Again Malkom voiced no denial. He normally wore silver cuffs to conceal those shaming marks. The details of his past werenβt necessarily held secret. All the demons in Ash knew how Malkom had earned his bread as a boy, how heβd eaten from their trash once heβd grown too old for a vampire lordβs tastes. But for this vampire to know as wellβ¦ βDoes not matter how you appear, demonβ you are still nothing.β βDo not listen to him, Malkom,β Kallen said. βYou are a good man. A stalwart leader.β βWho was betrayed at the earliest opportunity?β the vampire said. A gang led by the powerful and devious Ronath had tricked Malkom. Before he could trace or attack, heβd been caught in a metal net and stabbed through repeatedly. βYou rose up high for the briefest time. But I will break you down once more.β Malkom craned his head up to face the Viceroy. βBreak me down?β βYou submitted to a vampire master once. You will do so again.β βIs that why we live still? For me, save yourself time and kill me now.β Nothing this vampire could do would be worse than what the slave master of Malkomβs childhood had done. Malkom gazed at the demon boy, unconscious in the dirt. Nothing. β βTis not so simple,β the Viceroy said. βIt never is with our kind.β Had he signaled something to the sorcerer at the back of the chamber? βYouβve destroyed so many of my soldiers that I have decided to create more, starting with you two, the strongest of your kind. You shall be transformed, remade in my image.β The rumors β¦ βTwas said that the overlords had developed a rite to transform Trothans into ScΓrbaβdemonic vampires who thirsted for the blood of their own. A demon and a vampire united, an abomination stronger than both. The Viceroy drew his sword from a scabbard at his hip. βYou will drink my blood, and it will open your veins to the ritual. Your deaths will be the catalyst.β He ran a finger over the edge of his sword, while in the shadows his sorcerer began to chant, fueling a sinister curse. Power emanated from the sorcerer with every utterance, filling the room with forbidden black magics. Some unseen force seemed to wrap around Malkomβs body, digging in. Even more guards closed in, heaving tight on Malkomβs and Kallenβs chains. One of the largest vampires jammed his knee into Kallenβs spine, forcing his head backward, while another wedged a bit between Kallenβs teeth. βNo, no!β Malkom roared, twisting violently. The Viceroy sliced his own wrist. β βTis a gift Iβm giving you. The Thirst. I am going to make blood sing for you, make you dine on demon flesh every day for eternity.β He shoved the streaming gash to Kallenβs pried-open mouth. βYou will become like us, and be loyal only to me. It begins now.β βDo not drink it, Kallen!β Malkom bellowed, but they forced him to swallow it. They set upon Malkom next, stabbing him until he was too weakened to resist. The Viceroyβs thick, vile blood was forced down his throat as well. Start Reading DEMON FROM THE DARK Now Immortals After Dark NO REST FOR THE WICKED
#2.0
β’ November 2006
 WICKED DEEDS ON A WINTER'S NIGHT
#3.0
β’ November 2007
 DARK NEEDS AT NIGHT'S EDGE
#4.0
β’ May 2008
 PLEASURE OF A DARK PRINCE
#7.0
β’ February 2010
 DEMON FROM THE DARK
#8.0
β’ September 2010
 DREAMS OF A DARK WARRIOR
#9.0
β’ February 2011
 THE WITCH QUEEN OF HALLOWEEN
#20.0
β’ March 2024
Our Past Week of Fresh Picks |
|
| |||
|
||||
© 2003-2026