Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1)

by Quinn Arthurs

  “Witch, if you’re interested in finding out how my fangs feel in your throat, I wouldn’t be opposed to showing you.” The words came out as a purr, though the snarling curve of my lips indicated the clear threat.

  He shrugged idly. “Maybe I am interested.” Well then. I didn’t allow my surprise to show, merely arching a brow. “Maybe I’m interested in seeing if those fangs feel as silky against my skin as this knife does. Maybe I want to see if the strength of your bite is enough to tempt me into that bed. Maybe I want to know if what they say about vampire lovers is true.” If he thought he’d embarrass me by poking at me about the sexual nature of feedings, he wasn’t going to have any luck. I wasn’t ashamed of my body or of enjoying sex. It was as natural for me as feeding, and it felt damn good for both myself and my partner. His lips twitched in a wicked grin. “Maybe I simply want an excuse to see if your cream tastes as good as it smells, and I’d take the opportunity you feeding from me would present.” I fought the urge to squeeze my thighs together to contain the heat he riled inside of me.

  “And maybe I’m as human as Sebastian is,” I retorted. “Maybe holds no consent.”

  Draven snorted, slashing deeper, causing his blood to well against his skin, although it didn’t drip down to the floor. Crowe swore, his shoulders tightening as he glared at his brother. Interesting—apparently the twins weren’t united in whatever Draven was playing with here. “And what does a vampire care about consent?” His eyes flared with fury and disgust, but for the briefest of moments I could have sworn I saw sorrow hidden in their depths. Clearly this witch had serious issues with vampires, which begged the question of why they had even come to the citadel. Many covens existed, even thrived, outside of these walls. I would be a fool if I pretended I couldn’t sense the power rolling off of these two. It wasn’t a match for me, I was sure, but it would give me a solid challenge. With that level of strength—a trait as important to witches as it was to vampires—they would be in charge of their own coven soon enough. Their own comforts might never reach the level of the castle, but they would be far from suffering in the world outside of these fortifications.

  I shrugged, refusing to watch his blood track down his arm as he angled it slightly, letting the crimson drop slide down his skin, marring its perfection as it snaked toward his wrist. “What answer would you like, Draven?” The witch flinched, making that bead of blood tremble, and I realized it was the first time I had used his name. I cocked my head to the side, letting my curls fall forward as I spun the pencil in my fingers in an imitation of the patterns he had twirled his knife in, and then I traced it down the vee of my neckline and across the swell of my breasts, the men's eyes tracking the motion.

  “You clearly know the truth of the arousal a vampire can choose to give, or you wouldn’t have taunted my pet and myself with it. If I told you I always cared for my prey’s consent, I would be a liar as you well know. I need food, as do you. I will not apologize for it. I can tell you I tend not to drain my prey. I can tell you I will kill those who seek to harm me or those I care for, but I try not to kill simply for pleasure. I can also tell you I will not take anyone to my bed who is not willing to be in it.”

  Crowe and Draven were both staring at me now, their dark eyes wary yet heated as I trailed the pencil down my leg and back up again, highlighting the slit of my dress that showed the skin all the way up my thigh. Draven’s hand was clenched so tightly on the handle of his dagger that I wouldn’t have been surprised to see that design repeated on the skin of his palm. “I can reiterate all of those words to you in any form I choose, but you won’t believe me, so tell me what it is you want me to say. Or is that you don’t want me to say anything?” My lips peeled back, displaying my fangs in their full glory as I dropped the pencil back on the table. Sebastian stiffened beside me, his breath catching in his throat.

  Draven’s nostrils flared, scorn digging lines into his face. “The truth. There’s no way a vampire would go without bedding their pet if they didn’t have another motive. Vampires revel in pain and suffering that they balance with pleasure to ensure the control of their victims.”

  I pushed to my feet, tugging at the strap for my dress so it pooled at my feet, leaving me completely bare to the three men. I lifted my chin, letting a sly smile curl my lips as I traced my hands down my body under the enraptured gazes of the males as the scent of arousal spiked in the air. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs as though it were a drug. Three pairs of eyes perused every inch of my body, their pupils dilated in arousal. “I assure you all, my bite is not what keeps those I choose in my bed. It can give pleasure, and I prefer the taste of pleasure to pain, but I don’t need it to please those I select. Just as I don’t need to force anyone to pleasure me.”

  I moved quickly, nearly too quickly for their vision to track, as I scooped my dress from the floor and darted around the table, wrapping it tightly around Draven’s arm and plucking his dagger from his grip in the same motion and angling it to his throat. “Tell me, Draven, Crowe.” I met Crowe’s furious eyes across the table as I stroked the blade lightly against his twin’s throat without letting it bite into the skin. “Which part infuriates you, witches? The idea that my pet has been between my thighs, bringing me pleasure? That I would refuse to take you to my bed? Or is it simply the fact that you see me not as a woman but a creature, and don’t think I deserve an orgasm?”

  I stepped back from Draven, though I didn’t release the blade, taking it as my prize. “My body is my own. My pleasure is my concern. My relationship with my pet is not up for discussion. You have worn out your welcome for the day. You are not welcome at the family meal tonight for bloodletting. Leave. Now.” Crowe was shaking slightly as he gripped the back of his brother’s neck, dragging him from his seat in a feat of strength I hadn’t expected.

  “My knife?” Draven demanded, lightning sparkling across his skin in jagged arcs.

  “Call it the price of your disobedience.” I tilted the blade, studying the light sheen of blood that colored the metal. Crowe’s eyes glowed red as he lifted his hand into the air and the blood disappeared from the blade. I smirked, inclining my head at the other witch. Wise of him, though he didn’t know I had no interest in the blood. It seemed his spell had also pulled his brother’s blood from the dress I had used to wrap his arm as Draven tossed the fabric aside to pool on the floor, the wound stitching closed beneath the electricity of his magic. Draven was nearly spitting, he was so angry, his magic flaring under his brother’s restraining hands. Crowe’s chest rippled underneath his shirt, the muscles in his arms flexing as he fought to confine his twin. He inclined his head in a mockery of a bow as he hauled his swearing twin from the room. Before the door was slammed, I waggled the dagger, licking my tongue over the blade. I could hear Draven’s howl of fury even through the thick wood. Well, that had been fun. A quick glance at the wall showed it was nearly time for family dinner, and I needed a few moments with my parents. Wasn’t this day turning out to be entertaining?

  Chapter Seven

  Elsie

  “Mistress?” Sebastian’s voice was husky as I turned back to study him. He held up the white satin robe from the hook beside my bed.

  “No need, pet. I must attend dinner shortly, so I may as well dress.” Mother and Father would not be impressed as it was, let alone if I showed up attired inappropriately. The muscle in Sebastian’s jaw flexed as he headed for my wardrobe, sorting through my gowns as I watched, making no move to cover my body. He had seen it already, and he would see it again even if he chose not to join me in bed—it was simply the nature of our relationship. My clothing would frequently be bloody, and I would not waste time having him turn his back every time I needed to change. “The black,” I decided as he held out a few dresses for my selection. The stains wouldn’t be as significant on the darker color as they would be if I wore one of my lighter gowns. Too bad Crowe wasn’t able to teach me that blood collection spell he had used, it would certainly come in handy, however vampi
res didn’t possess magic in the traditional sense. Our speed, longevity, and our bite were a magic all their own. No vampire I had ever heard of had been able to access the same type of magic that allowed for spellcraft, though many had tried.

  “Yes, mistress.” Sebastian strode forward, confidently helping me into the dress. His hands didn’t linger on my body, though I could hear his breath hitch and the way his heartbeat sped up as his fingers grazed my exposed skin while he adjusted my gown.

  I turned to face him, running a hand down the silk and lace fabric adorning my frame. He had already moved away after fastening my dress, quietly and competently organizing the stacks of books and his notes. He cocked his head over the notes the witch twins had left, his brow creasing as he studied the illegible script as I headed toward the bathroom to fix my hair. If I styled it up, I’d likely have less to wash, although leaving it piled on my head for extended periods also led to headaches. “Mistress?” Sebastian’s voice drew me back into the main room, even as my mind lingered on the dinner I was expected to attend. Normally, I only went to the rare family dinner, but if I wanted to question my parents about how Crowe and Draven had been granted access to the castle—let alone directed to me for their research—then they would expect me to participate this evening. I wasn’t patient enough to wait the several days I usually spaced between those meals. The twins were a puzzle, and I enjoyed solutions. I had refrained from killing Draven for the moment, but if his behavior continued, I couldn’t promise how long his luck would hold out. I wasn’t foolish enough to think Crowe would allow that either, so taking out one twin would mean taking out the other. I preferred to murder only when necessary, and I liked to know whom I was killing. The diplomacy needed after shredding certain people to fragments was something that took time away from my own goals and was not to be taken lightly. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t do it, just that I preferred not to. I was getting tired of handing out warnings, although taking his little knife away had been satisfying.

  “Yes, pet?” I considered the simple clothing he wore, my lips pursing. As my pet, he would be required to attend me during dinner, but since I wouldn’t need him in the room, I could allow him to wander the area around the upper tower. He wouldn’t need more suitable clothing for that.

  “The witches…” He trailed off, pulling my attention from thoughts of dinner to their books. His brow was furrowed, his head angling to the side as he studied the notes that were left on the table.

  “Horrible penmanship,” I agreed with a grimace. Not like Sebastian’s, that was certain. His notes were clear and concise, a pleasure to work with. Maybe after I ate, I would take the chance to review his work.

  “It’s not that.” He continued to study the writing. “It’s a code.” I froze for a moment, analyzing what he said.

  “Explain, pet.” I stepped forward now, eyeing the notes myself. The scribble was haphazard, much of it scratched out with arrows in different directions highlighting other passages. The words were scrawled across the page in arcs and slashes, nearly indecipherable in many places.

  “It’s not meant to look like a code,” he explained, though his teeth were clenched. Apparently whatever he was disclosing was difficult for him. “Codes that are apparent are easy to break, or at the very least enough to indicate that you know you’re doing something you shouldn’t. My mother, she’d use a code like this, it’s why I recognize it. Each one is slightly different, of course, for their own writing and style. But see here?” He gestured to a few clearly written lines that mentioned some witching holiday I wasn’t familiar with. I concentrated on the pages, unwilling to move them and give away that we had been looking. I looked at Crowe’s notes, seeing the same differences. Some pieces were clear and concise, and although his writing was not as neat as Sebastian’s, it wasn’t a horrid scrawl either.

  “It wouldn’t be from becoming tired?” It wasn’t that I didn’t believe what he was saying, but I needed to understand.

  “Definitely not,” Sebastian objected with a firm shake of his head, his hands opening and closing as though he was attempting to hold himself back from moving the pages and studying them more thoroughly. “See this?” I leaned over, following the direction he was pointing, and traced my eyes across the words. “Here, here, and here.” He pointed again and again, directing my gaze between certain portions of the paper, and something tickled at the back of my mind.

  “What?” I squinted, trying to catch whatever my mind had noticed. It wasn’t obvious, but there was clearly a pattern here.

  “It’s about the Firsts,” he explained. My breath caught as I saw what he had. Between the crossed out words, the angle of the letters, and the arrows, I could see the word “Firsts” forming. The Firsts were one of the original covens that had formed even before the plagues had begun. Some witches believed they were the true origin of the magic they now held. Others believed that when they disappeared, the magic was attributed to them as a simple story. I knew very little about them myself, as witches weren’t my area of focus, but I had heard enough.

  “And here.” He had turned to study Crowe’s notes now. “I don’t know all their code, it would take me time to figure it out, but I can tell you this symbol is used by some witches to mean ‘ritual.’ This one means ‘vampire.’” He pointed to scrawling marks that looked like doodles or the slip of a pencil. “I remember those ones from my mother’s papers.”

  Fury roared through my body, and I fought to tamp it down. What were these two looking for? My meeting with my parents had moved from something to do with my irritation to something of necessity. If these two were doing any research regarding vampires, then I would find out what it was. If their research was serious enough that the pair resorted to coding their own notes, then I would discover what it was. I would allow no harm to come to my people, and I would happily kill these two no matter the consequences if it turned out they were using me in any plots to harm the vampires.

  I gently stroked the blade I had won from Draven, considering the dress I wore. I needed to get moving and quickly. Today of all days it wouldn’t do for me to be late.

  “Sebastian, in the bottom left drawer of the wardrobe you’ll find thigh bands with weapon compartments. Can you get me one suitable for this?” I asked, stroking the knife again. He narrowed his eyes, studying the blade for a moment, before rummaging through the drawer and pulling out a band. It would fit snugly around my thigh and keep the knife close to my skin. I tugged at the slit on the dress, opening it wide so I could bend down easily and slip on the soft fabric Sebastian handed me. I slid the blade in, patting it confidently. I had my own weapons in my claws and my teeth, but I wouldn’t put it past Declan to either enter my room in search of his blade or attempt to call it to him with magic. This way, I would be forewarned.

  “Do not speak of this to anyone, Sebastian,” I ordered as I stood, stroking my hands down my dress. “I will see what I can make of this, but no one must know I am looking into the twin witches. Not until I’m ready.” Although the magic of our bond would bind him to secrecy, I still felt it was necessary to emphasize my command with words.

  “Yes, mistress.” He bowed his head in acknowledgment.

  “Would you be able to translate any more of that without touching the sheets?” I couldn’t risk them noticing us looking through their notes, but I had to know what was being said. While I could attempt to torture the information out of them, I had a funny feeling that pain wouldn’t be as much of a threat to them as it would be to others.

  He hesitated, chewing on his lower lip, and I had to swallow around the need that flared inside of me. Damn it, I still hadn’t had a few minutes to myself to take care of the heat he had left me with earlier. “I could try, mistress, but I couldn’t guarantee it. The only reason it caught my eye was because it was something my mother had done in the past. It made me curious, and when I saw a few words and symbols I recognized…” He trailed off, shaking his head. It was hard to believe he had told me abou
t the code. It seemed like he might hate witches even more than he hated vampires. It was a tenuous allegiance, but it was something.

  “Thank you, Sebastian. Anything you can find, note it and place the volumes away. I’ll look over them when I know I won’t be disturbed. For now, however, we need to be going.”

  Sebastian nearly stumbled on his way to open the door for me. “Going?” Even from here, I could hear the pounding of his heart, and I strode forward confidently, my head held high.

  “I won’t require your services at dinner, but pets are expected to stay on the floor during a meal in case issues arise,” I reminded him. Apparently that rule had been one he either hadn’t remembered or simply hadn’t wanted to recall. Many vampires would feed from their pet during family dinner in a show of power. Others wanted their pets nearby for any duties that might arise. Several enjoyed public displays with their pets and would indulge in sexual play in the tower after they had eaten, soaking the pet as well as themselves in the blood that decorated the chilly stone floors. Personally, I couldn’t see the appeal in that, though part of that might have to do with the idea of performing sexually in front of my parents. Vampires were open with their sexuality—both as a weapon and as a source of pleasure—from the time they reached puberty, but that didn’t mean I was looking to expose myself in that way. There was a difference between being open about who might be in my bed and putting on a show while my parents ate a few feet from me. Not that I hadn’t had to make a quick escape on numerous occasions when my parents turned on each other. That was always an awkward evening.

  “You expect me to join you at a meal?” His tone was flat, and any light that had been in those blue eyes burned out, leaving them empty and cool.