Page 94 of Loreblood

These True-fucking monsters.

I was relegated to watching the man’s legs kick through the legs of Vallan. The struggle slowed, and then stopped completely. The sounds of sucking filled the space, making my skin crawl.

When the three vampires stepped aside, the man’s face was slack and rubbery—bloodless, with gray eyes still open in horror, mouth ajar in an eternal shout of agony.

Blood trickled down the lips of Garroway and Vallan. Oddly, Skartovius looked no different than before. He dabbed his mouth with the back of his hand, but I saw no blood on his lips.

He dines how he lives, with regal efficiency.

With a heavy sigh, Skartovius turned and faced me. He pushed his auburn hair out of his face, over his shoulders, and joined his hands together. He looked more energetic, with a light in his eyes not there before. His dark pupils were dilated. “Now then, ask your questions, little temptress.”

I stammered for a moment, unable to tear my gaze away from the man lying dead behind them against the wall. He had slumped over, and I could only imagine what had gone through his mind as these three animals feasted on his blood until his heart stopped getting enough of it to keep beating.

“The Loreblood you claim I possess,” I said, trying to bury my emotions. “What is it?”

“An ancient blood theorized to cause great harm to vampires. That is why so many are after you.”

“Theorized?”

“We don’t know its specific properties. There are others more learned on the subject. For now, you are safest with us.”

I glanced down at the dead man. “I doubt that,” I said dryly. “Who is after me?”

“I’m assuming the vampires who showed up at Manor Marquin and attacked my court. I don’t know who they were in cahoots with. I have some ideas.”

My eyes narrowed. “You killed a vampire. Turned him into living fire. He was not one of these vampires that attacked your court. He waspartof your court. I saw him earlier in the night.”

“Yes,” Skartovius said, “sitting with Lukain Mortis. Odd, isn’t it?” A hint of a smile played on his lips.

My focus shifted with the mention of my master. “I still say you’re lying about Master Lukain. You said he tried to assassinate you. Why?”

Skartovius stepped over to the cot where I had slept. He sat on the edge, crossing his legs and leaning back in a relaxed stance with his arms stretched behind him. “Lukain wished to get close to me to avenge past . . . transgressions he blames me for. We don’t need to get into that. He succeeded in getting close to me but failed to achieve his revenge.”

My lips firmed. I wanted more than that. He spoke so easily about death—about a grayskin man I had known for five years, the man I had gotten closer to than anyone before him.

“Use your cunning, girl. I know you’re more than a beautiful face.” Skartovius tilted his head in an infuriating way that told me he was toying with me. “Why was Lukain not with his little humans, helping them escape?”

Rirth and Culiar.“He wasprotectingtheir escape.”

“How selfless,” he answered, words dripping with sarcasm. “Then why was he not withyou? If he knew the Diplomats and this Dimmon character wanted you dead?” The vampire stood, towering over me. “Here is the truth you won’t like to hear, little temptress. The lowborn scum I turned into ‘living fire,’ as you said, was named Baringsten.”

“The four-fingered vampire.”

A nod. “He was a captain in my court. And a spy. His connection was Lukain Mortis. They weren’t even particularly sly about it.”

The puzzle made more sense after that, and he was correct: I didn’t want to hear it, but I knew he was telling the truth. I played along with his explanation because I saw no use in continuing to belabor the point. “Who were they working for?”

“You tell me, Sephania.”

I blinked. “What?”

He took a step closer. I didn’t shrink back.

“You said you’ve heard the name Mistress Mortis in the past. When?”

Anxiety ran through me. I looked away. The guilt on my face must have been clear as the moon on a cloudless night. “. . . When I spied Lukain meeting in a dark alley with your man Baringsten.”

I expected him to lash out. Instead, he offered a quaint smile. “There we are. So, you see? It all fits neatly together.”