Read Excerpt 1:
“Unhand us,
witch!” the vampire shouts.
The mortals,
apparently far smarter than this vampire, remain silent. Even the vampire’s own
pledge seals his lips shut. A wave of Nether wafts off him, marking him as a
Nether witch.
But fury sparks
within me, and a dark grin overtakes me. I lower my arm, setting the blades
down gently in the middle of the clearing.
“What was that?”
I ask, daring the vampire to repeat himself.
Stupidly enough,
he does. “I said, ‘unhand us, witch!’ Let us go quickly, and I might not kill
you.”
Arrogant fool.
I laugh quietly,
and all the birds fly away, deserting their treetop perches. A dangerous glint
shines in my eyes as I saunter within arm’s reach.
“Witch? You
think me a witch?”
“How else could
a pitiful, puny little woman like you do all this?” He jerks his head at the
other two men, unable to move his arms. Cheeks flushed with anger, he draws
back and spits in my face, dark eyes flashing, all the while.
Nearby animals
sense my anger reverberating on the Nether, and the woods fall completely
silent. Fury roils within me, and visions of blood fill my mind. Everything in
me demands his evisceration.
Or perhaps the
removal of some limbs…
With eyes
narrowed, I lift one hand. He flinches, and I smile, baring my teeth. His spit
floats into the air, leaping happily from my skin. My spine shivers with
disgust and hatred as I force the spit to smear itself over the vampire’s face,
over his eyes.
Slowly twirling
one finger, I tighten his bonds. Air rushes from his lungs, and his soft face
goes red as he struggles to breathe.
“You
underestimate me. I don’t know a single witch who can do everything I’ve done
without at least three days of spell and potion preparation. Not to mention the
difficulty of lugging all those ingredients out here.”
Lifting one
average looking fingernail to his face, I trace one of his cheekbones, then the
other, splitting the skin wide. A line drawn down the center of his nose, from
bridge to tip, releases still more blood.
My eyes flutter
as the darkest parts of me savor the sight.
“As for spitting
on me,” I whisper, knowing my voice will carry to the others, echoing in their
bones despite its low volume, “that was a grave mistake. Most of my kind would
have killed you on the spot, simply for the disturbance.”
Voice suddenly a
hiss, I say, “You’re lucky I’ve learned patience.”
My soul riots
for revenge, and my blood boils in my veins. I fight the damnable words, hating
my own weakness before my rage, but still, I say, “But ignorance must not go to
seed. Your family line will end with you. You will never again create, or
prolong, life.”
And I shift the
Nether to make it so.
“Your kind? What
are you talking about? What makes you think you can curse me?” All bluff and
bluster, the vampire tries to appear brave and defiant.
But I feel the
fear leaking off him. I smell it in his blood, acrid and spoiled. I hear it in
his sputtering heartbeat, slightly more erratic than those of the others.
Again, I say
nothing. Drawing a deep breath, I close my eyes slowly.
Thunder roars
through the clearing, rumbling in all our chests. I open my eyes, glittering
gold sending light reflecting back at the vampire, and my skin grows paler.
Fingernails become golden talons, embedded in black skin which reveals hues of
purple as it fades to white just above my wrist. My eyelids are colored
similarly, pulsing with the Nether that reaches out through my skin.
Black horns
burst from my skull, sticking through locks of deepest red. My horns twist as
they taper off, curling back over the top of my head.
The color drains
from the vampire’s face, concealed as it is by his blood. Sick glee spikes
through me.
“Did you know
you would feel my revelation in your blood? Did you know the very air would
tremble with it?” I ask, knowing the answer to be a resounding “no.”
“You’re a…” he
trails off, unable to speak for lack of air.
“Demi-demon is, I believe, the word you’re looking for,” I say, smiling malevolently. “Now, I’m going to untether you, and you’re going to run. Before I change my mind.”
Elexis Bell is a quiet nerd with too many hobbies, including everything from gaming to shower-singing and even archery, weather permitting. She specializes in sarcasm and writing stories that make people feel. She's made a home for herself with her husband, their dog, and a small army of cats.
She writes dark, gritty stories, sprinkling gut-wrenching emotions over high fantasy romance, thrillers, post-apocalyptic romance, and science fiction.
For further information, follow her on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook, or check out her blog on her website.
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I enjoyed the excerpt & looking forward to reading more.
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