[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

152
The Sin Eater's Prince
by Keta Diablo
interlaced in a familiar ribbon pattern, it looked centuries old,
yet had still maintained its reverence.
Turning his dizzy head, his gaze wandered to the porch
and the lichen-ridden stones where the crests of Henry VII,
Arthur, Prince of Wales, and Arthur's wife, Catherine of
Aragon, were still clearly visible. A memory of his father
reading to him from one of the man's favorite history books
nudged his memory, yet he couldn't place the name of the
castle. How he wished now he'd paid more attention at the
time.
The menacing half laugh, half snort Owen had come to
recognize and hate came to him as a muffled echo. "I imagine
it would harm none to divulge your whereabouts."
His queasiness abating, Owen's mind cleared. He'd
forgotten Dagan had the capability of reading his thoughts. In
the future, he'd be more careful about allowing his mind to
wander, particularly when it came to anything the undead
could use against him or Andras. He shelved the
troublesome thoughts entering his head about Maddock lest
Dagan pick them from his brain.
"You're standing before Carew Castle, once renowned as
the most magnificent structure in all of south Wales. Pity it
was formally abandoned in 1686." He narrowed his gaze and
honed in on the facade. "What do you make of the chapel?
It's said when an Englishman arrives at a place, the first thing
he builds is a store; when an American arrives at a new place,
he builds a school; but when the Welsh settle, the very first
thing they do is build a chapel." Dagan turned and faced him.
"I visited several times when the castle stood in all its
153
The Sin Eater's Prince
by Keta Diablo
splendid glory, a benefit of traveling through time, of knowing
the final part of a story where everything is made clear and
no questions or surprises remain."
Having found a shred of his courage, Owen felt his lips
thin. "I care nothing about your past travels. No doubt you
preyed upon blameless folk then as you do now."
When a red rim stamped his irises, Owen knew he'd
roused Dagan's anger. He advanced like the predator he was,
his gait silent and reeking of stealth. "Let me remind you, sin
eater, I hold your life in my hands. The possibilities are
endless and most are unpleasant." He leaned in, his mouth
within inches of Owen's, the gossamer blue orbs studying
every feature of his face. "You intrigue me. I don't believe
I've seen a more stunning man throughout the centuries."
The absolute, emotionless inflection in his voice chilled
Owen.
"What would it take, I wonder, to erase all memory of
Maddock from your mind? I'm sure you're aware he's not a
pureblood. I like to refer to those who have been turned as
halflings. While they possess a modicum of vampiric traits
the ability to shift into flying creatures, for example they
lack the ability to travel through time. Did you know our
anatomy enables us to make use of our speed to escape
predators? We have a well-developed sense of balance, a
strong fight-or-flight instinct and. . . " He paused. "More
importantly, we can read the thoughts of others. You'd do
well to remember those traits, particularly if you think to
hinder my objectives."
154
The Sin Eater's Prince
by Keta Diablo
While impaled by Dagan's steady gaze, Owen attempted to
construct a wall around his soul. Andras's words reached his
ears on the kiss of a breeze. You must not allow it to happen,
must fight it. Never had he found anything so difficult.
Dagan's hot breath whispered over him. "I can cut you to
shreds with one swipe of my hand, or I can grant you
immortality. Together we can explore the universe, frolic in
the distant past, partake of every wicked sin known to man.
Yield to me, Owen, and I promise you a life unlike any you've
ever imagined."
Owen swallowed hard, the defiance in his voice seeming to
come from another's lips. "I'd rather die than yield to you."
A flash of crimson spewed from Dagan's eyes, almost
blinding Owen. His hand came out, met his throat, and lifted
him from the ground. "I should kill you here and now, suck
every drop of blood from your thankless veins."
Choking on the words, Owen managed to spit them out.
"You'll never possess your precious sword if you kill me."
Dagan released him and Owen gasped for air before
addressing him again. "Andras is no fool. He'll not surrender
the claymore for a corpse."
"No," the vampire said, running his hands down the front
of his cloak. "I don't imagine he would."
The sun rose above the castle, its bright rays flooding the
ground where they stood. Dagan shrank back, pulled the
hood of his cape over his long dark locks and, with a flourish [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]