Long Live the Queen

I roll a small vial necklace between my fingers as I lounge back on my bed. My thoughts wander as I wait for my husband King Xander to return from his latest meeting. My gaze skims over the set table, from the décor to the food laid out to a bottle of the finest blood wine in the realms. It’s a relatively modest setup, but one doesn’t need much material things in order to express your love for another.  I perk up when I hear someone at the door. I slip the vial back between my breasts and roll onto my side, an ivory leg peeking out from the slit of my red and black satin gown. My raven black hair cascades down my shoulders. And after adjusting my corset and my long black gloves, I perch myself up on one elbow. My dark blue eyes watch with keen interest as the door opens and my husband’s athletic form strides in. He pauses just inside the doorway as his gaze finds mine. The corner of my lips twitches up into a satisfied smirk as his gaze slides down the familiar planes and curves of my body. The door clicks shut, and with aching slowness, he makes his way across the room to me. He glances over at the table, seeming to notice it for the first time. But his eyes are lit with a different kind of hunger when they return to me.  “What’s this, Inferna?” he drolls. “Dinner.” “I can think of something better I wish to eat.” He stops before me, leaning down to where his breath tickles my skin as he speaks in that husky voice.  “Mmm, I bet you can,” I murmur, a second before his lips brush against mine. My hand slips into his dark hair as I press my lips back to his. The kiss, which starts out tender, quickly revs up as he pours his need into it. One of his hands finds my exposed leg, and his cool touch sends shivers down my spine as our tongues tangle and twine in a passionate dance. And right as I feel him shift forward onto the bed, I quickly slip under him. I’m already halfway across the room when he lets out a pained sound of frustration. "You tease me," he pouts. I throw him an amused look over my shoulder. "It's what I do best." He lets out a huff and flops back onto the bed. I roll my eyes at him, as I reach for the decanter of wine. Picking it up, I swirl its contents, before pouring the dark crimson liquid into two brass goblets. “Come now, darling. There will be plenty of time for such intimacy later,” I reassure him. “But first, a toast.” With a sigh, he pushes himself up off the bed and joins me. I hand him one of the goblets, our fingers brushing as he takes it from me. A coy smile graces my features, and I stare into those brown eyes of his for a moment, before picking up my own goblet. I raise it up to him. “A toast to longevity and an eternity with you, my love,” the words roll off my tongue. His mouth pulls up into an easy smile, and my heart constricts at the look of adoration in his eyes. Breaking the spell, I bring the glass up to my lips. Slowly turning on my heels, I set it down on the table behind me without drinking from it. My eyes darken, and I take in a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, I whip around, racing over to him with vampiric speed. I shove him back into the chair, the silver laced wine splattering across his face. Digging my nails into his cheeks, I force his mouth open and tip the goblet back, pouring the rest of the corrosive liquid down his throat.  “Drink, my love. Drink!” I hiss.  Gurgling screams erupt from him as the silver sizzles and burns him. Smoke rises from his face, and the smell of cooked flesh hits my nose. I lift up a leg and dig my heel into his crotch to combat his flailing as I watch his skin blister and melt.  I toss the drained goblet aside, the brass making a loud clang as it hits the ground. I grab a handful of his hair and yank his limp head back. His face is burnt to a crisp, and his throat is growing too raw for him to scream any longer. As his pain filled eyes meet mine, my lips widen into a wicked grin. “It’s not personal, darling. It’s business.” I wrap my hands around his head, and with all my strength, I wrench it to the side, his neck snapping with an audible crack. His deadweight slides off the chair to fall at my feet.  Everything around me becomes eerily quiet, too quiet. Before I know it there’s a loud crash as the door to the room is knocked off its hinges. Several vampires burst into the room, and when their eyes land on their murdered king, their faces twist with sheer rage. My eyes flash red, black veins bleeding down from them, and I bare my fangs with a loud hiss as the first one flies at me. I snatch up my abandoned drink and fling its contents into the approaching vampire’s face. He lets out an ear splitting screech as his face bursts into flames.  I zip forward, meeting the next one halfway. I duck under his claws and fangs and sink my teeth into his throat. A metallic taste hits my tongue as blood fills my mouth, and with a jerk of my head, I rip out his throat. I spit out a chunk of his trachea, before I turn to the next vampire with bared fangs. “I am your queen! Now kneel, or bleed,” I growl.  I brace myself as the vampire lurches forward, but he hardly makes it a step when a blade slices clean through his neck. His head sort of slides off his shoulders, before the rest of his body follows suit. A burly man, the king’s second and personal executioner Scark, stands there in the vampire’s place. His icy gaze turns to the few remaining vampires congregating in the room. “You know how things are done around here. And as she said, she’s still your queen,” he booms. “Those who object may gladly die by my hand.”  The vampires look amongst each other, their uneasiness palpable, before they begrudgingly back down. I let out a slow breath as he “escorts” them out of the room. I know they aren’t satiated, but it's certainly a start.  After the last one leaves the room, my gaze gravitates back over to Scark. He looks me over, before meeting my gaze. After a few moments, I reach up to unclasp my necklace and stride over to him. Resting a hand on his muscular arm, I stand on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Thank you,” I purr, as I push the vial necklace into his hand. “I believe this is yours.” I nip his earlobe and give him a sultry wink, before sauntering out of the room a free woman.

. . .

Read the prologue series Three Steps from Hell