Kitty in the Underworld Carrie Vaughn (reading eggs books .txt) 📖

this was part of him simply not caring about appearances. He wasn’t an aristocrat. He didn’t need to be an aristocrat.

He moved so he was standing next to me, but at an angle to better cradle my arm, which he handled like it was a piece of glass, fragile and precious. Petting the skin, stroking his thumb along the inside of my forearm to warm it, to bring the blood to the surface. He knew what he was doing, to calm his … donor. Not victim. In other circumstances, his movements might even have been seductive. Some vampires I’d spoken to told me that a willing, aroused victim tasted better than one who struggled. That was why they did what they did, acted the way they did. Attracting, luring, rather than hunting. Most vampires I’d met were very good at it. I thought again of Alette, and wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want to remember her when I remembered him, and this.

My stomach churned. I’d either eaten too much, or not enough. I looked away, squeezed my eyes shut. I hadn’t meant to, but it was either that or panic.

When his lips, as rough as his hands, brushed the inside of my wrist, I almost decided that feeling him was worse than seeing him. His movements were amplified in my imagination. The lips stroked along the tendon, to the base of my palm, and back. He tightened his grip on my arm, tucking it under his own to stabilize it. His tongue darted, tasting my skin. I clenched my fist, tried hard not to yank away. His story had better be worth it.

When he finally bit, I hardly felt it. I’d been so tense, waiting, so overwhelmed with anticipation, that the pain of his fangs in my skin lasted only a second. His lips closed over the wound, and he drank. I kept my eyes shut, my head craned away from him, and waited.

He shouldn’t have needed much. Vampires didn’t need to 1" aid="H5A46"

Chapter 16

“I AM VERY old. I’m not sure how old. I have spent stretches of time when I was not as … aware as I should have been. Always, I managed to survive. But … I was not old, once.” Kumarbis spoke with something like wonder in his voice, as if he could not believe that he had ever been young. Though when he said “not old,” why did I think he meant a century or two? A span of time that would have been forever to the rest of us. “I don’t remember what it was to be mortal. My life then, who I was then, has not been important for a very long time. I feel myself a creature who came to being out of nothing.

“I was made what I am now in the mountains of Anatolia. I was made, but not claimed. Attacked and abandoned. I could have been destroyed as a demon. Perhaps I should have been, times being what they were. But Fate took me in hand. I had a destiny. I must have had a destiny.”

The others, even Zora, settled on the stone floor, gathering around the vampire in a semicircle, watching him with intense focus. Something about the warm light of the candles, the ancient scent of the granite, made me feel as if we had traveled back in time to those ancient mountains. Kumarbis’s voice itself had altered the flow of time, and we were in the ancient world.

“Whe and wrapped my arms around my headme from ed, then the Roman Empire rose and spread, it seemed new to me. I traveled, studying it. The Romans—they had very good roads. I traveled, looking for … purpose. I had so much power—I could have set myself up as a god in some small village. Others of our kind did so. But that seemed too obvious, too easy. If one of our kind was a god alone, how powerful would two of us be? Or all of us? A pantheon of the supreme undead. That is how we were meant to be. An empire of our own, like others that had come before, but this one would last, ours would be eternal, as we were. What Rome dreamed of but could not achieve. I traveled, spoke to others, tried to show them my vision. But I could not sway them. They were satisfied with their tiny, inconsequential kingdoms. I—I was not meant to be an emperor. But there was another.

“Something … something guided me to Palestine and the Roman occupation there. Like a voice in the wilderness. That’s how the story goes, I think. A voice in the wilderness calling me. There were so many in those days putting themselves forward as prophets, as preachers, promising a better world to their followers. I thought one of them might be my worthy partner. But no, one by one they failed, they fell. Then I found this man, this centurion. He was one of hundreds, thousands of soldiers I had seen. I shouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a crowd. But I did. I saw him and knew he could be powerful. That feeling I had, that voice, had steered me true.”

He smiled, triumphant at the memory. He had entranced himself into returning to that distant past. To distant glory.

I had a million questions. What had those other vampires been like? The ones with the tiny kingdoms? How had he survived all those years, without a Family or a place of his own? Did he have rivals, with the same thought of gathering allies? Was this the start of the Long Game? What about this feeling, this instinct? I kept my mouth shut, because I didn’t want to distract him. I didn’t want him to decide not to finish.

“I avoided the Master of Jerusalem, made my way through the city on my own. I met the man known as Gaius Albinus. Befriended him, even. He was a serious young man, ambitious. His career was everything