Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50954 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50954 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
The room at the top of the house was not usually used for anything or anybody. It was a place of emptiness, and he liked it that way. But now it was occupied, and he could feel the fullness of it. Gideon’s power was quite different than that of the usual vampire. His presence had an aura. That aura was not contained to his immediate area but emanated through wood and stone out onto the street where it passed from person to person.
Maddox had felt the inklings of Gideon from the moment he stepped off the plane. He tainted the city’s air. The humans would feel it too. It was no doubt already putting them on edge, tipping them from peace to violence. He was certain Candy would report increased unrest the next time they met. Gideon was more than a monster. He was a whole mood. The kind of mood that set men to the act of killing as easily as breathing.
Every reluctant step brought Maddox a little closer to his source, to the unholy madness that occupied his home and his soul. He felt his inner self begin to surge, old impulses rising, dark needs, demonic desires. He thought briefly of Will and was swiftly horrified at his gut impulse. It was dark and brutal, and not at all loving. If he were to fall under Gideon’s sway, Will might not be safe with him.
After an eternity of thirteen stairs, he reached the red door at the entrance of the attic. It was closed. Gideon was going to force him to open it, to step over the threshold himself. He would not be carried as Gideon’s bride. He had been carried once, though. Carried and cradled…
Many, many, many years ago
The roar of the crowd was fading, not because their shouting was any less intense, but because the flesh of his body was failing. Madis’ execution was nearly complete. It had been happening for seven long days, beginning with a whipping. His back had been lashed until the skin failed and opened up to reveal cut flesh. Then honey and salt had been applied while he screamed and writhed in agony that was only the beginning. He was chained face down in the sand, and stinging ants were let loose upon him to feast. He cried until his tears ran dry, but no mercy was shown. Not even the simple and obvious mercy of death was granted to him.
His torturers knew how to keep body and soul together, even when the body was broken and weakened. They forced liquid into him when he refused to drink, adding salts and sugars to keep his broken body functioning. The pain seemed to go on for an eternity, every second stretching out into what felt like forever.
One day after the other, sunrise sliding into sunset, he suffered. He learned the deepest meaning of pain, all the shades and nuances of it. He felt the minor discomforts and the searing agonies. He felt brief reprieves when his consciousness failed him, only to be brought roughly back to the world of the living by the torturer’s smelling salts.
It was in the depths of night he was finally freed. Naked and broken, he hovered between life and death, distinct from both and unconcerned with either. The pain had ceased to be something happening to him. It had become something he embodied. It was him, and he was it. Pain had become the only thing in his consciousness, his friend, his ally, his constant companion.
“Poor boy.”
He opened his eyes to the night and saw not the moon, but a masculine creature twice as beautiful as that great glowing orb. It was not a human face. Madis had always known the devil would claim him one day. Now the time was upon him, he felt fascinatingly calm.
“Look what they have done to you. Such a pretty face. Such a beautiful body. All you wanted was love, and they have broken you for following your basest and most essential of instincts. Do not worry, sweet one. Tonight I will feed on them.”
It was not a man who spoke to him, though it knew the language of men. It was something more beautiful and perfectly formed than a man, something with a symmetrically handsome face of strength and enigmatic appeal. Sharp teeth emanated from top and bottom jaw, two sets of fangs set among gleaming white teeth. The creature had come to him naked, its body beautiful in the moonlight, muscular lines and ridges cast in silver glow. Madis felt himself throb. It hurt, but he did not mind hurting anymore.
It was for this desire he had been made to suffer, this unacceptable attraction to other men. The creature was different, though. It was male, but there was no mistaking it for a man. Dark hair flowed from the crown of his head, shrouding his face as he crouched down and touched Madis’ cheek with a gentle stroking motion.