Empire of the Damned (Empire of the Vampire, #2)

by Jay Kristoff

life without books is a life not lived, Dior. There’s a magik like no other to be found in them. To open a book is to open a door—to another place, another time, another mind. And usually, mademoiselle, it’s a mind far sharper than your own.’

Eyes that saw the hurts of the world, and a heart that wanted to fix them.

‘You know, Capitaine Aaron used to tell us you only appreciate the sunshine after you’ve felt the pouring rain. B-but sometimes it feels like it’s been raining all my life.’

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There’s a time and place for tears, Flower. An’ there’s a solace to be found in sadness. It’s easier fallin’ downhill than climbin’ up. It hurts to punch on with broken hands. But it’s when darkness falls around us that we find the fire within. An’ I see it in ye, sure and true.’ Phoebe searched Dior’s eyes, speaking fierce. ‘Yer the fire that will burn away this dark, Flower. And yer a girl. So stick that only shite where the sun don’t shine.’

“Better to be a bastard than a fool.”

Jean-François smiled. “You are not a bastard, de León. You are a cunt.” “Well. You are what you eat, vampire.” “Charming.” “My wife certainly thought so.”

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What direction is the question?’ Phoebe said. “Dior breathed deep, gaze roaming from Celene, to Phoebe, to me. I could see the choices before her, all the paths she might take. Southward to the war-torn wastes of Ossway, and the protection Phoebe promised in the Highlands. Northwest to León, a fortress that offered safety, but none of the answers she needed. Or west toward Master Jènoah and whatever truth and peril that trusting my sister would bring. “To risk her life. Or risk the world.

Damn

Good luck, brother.’ “‘Go to hell, sister.’ “‘I have been there, Gabriel. They found my company just as disagreeable as you.’

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Ladies f-first.’ I wheezed, patting my coin pouch. ‘I’ll m-make it worth your while.’

After they told him to kneeel hahaha

“Celene was a behemothic cunt.”

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BEFORE HE BURNS his bridges, a man should learn to swim.’

Surround yourself with folk who confront you. If you’re not being challenged, you’re not learning anything. If you’re the smartest man in the room, you’re in the wrong fucking room.

“I swept up my blade, eyes stinging as that beautiful silver voice rang once more in my head. She was talking to herself, I realized; a recipe for bloody spudloaf of all things.

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“So, where were we?” The historian rolled his eyes. “Boom?” “BOOM!” Gabriel roared, leaping in his chair and clapping again. “Night save me,” the Marquis sighed.

Sing s-sweet songs for the beloved dead. But then pick up thy quill, and p-pen the next verse of thy life.

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I’d nothing to fight with save my bare hands. But bare hands have killed kings, coldblood. Bare hands have built empires. A man and his sword can carve a legend. A man and his army can conquer a nation. A man and his god can remake the world. But swords shatter. Armies falter. Gods betray. “A man’s hands are ever his own.

Gabriel de León is my name, mademoiselle. I am quite sure it precedes me.’” Jean-François scoffed softly, scratching in his tome. “You actually said that?” Gabriel chuckled. “I actually said that.” “Well.” The vampire shrugged. “Dramatic entrances are the best kind.” “Not always.” Gabriel sipped his wine. “But when someone insists on measuring cocks and yours is the biggest, sometimes it’s best to just whip it out and be done.

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D’ye pray to yer One God, se’yersan?’ “‘Not anymore. He never listens, madame.’ “She met my eyes then, her voice hard and cold as stone. “‘If ye never pray to him, boy, what exactly is he supposed to listen to?’”

“‘We only die if we are forgotten, Gabriel de León. Burn bright. Burn brief. But burn.’

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“I drank her down, our bodies still moving in time, sinking to the root with every swallow. She was an ocean, and I the desert. I was the river, and she the rain.

“Hope is for fools, Historian.” Gabriel met the vampire’s eyes. “Hope gets you killed. Hope walks into the fire. Faith leaps over it. I didn’t hope Dior was alive. I believed it.”

“I’d rather die for something that matters than live for nothing at all. And because a man survived long enough to have a grey beard and wrinkles means not that he’s actually lived. To live is to risk. To fear and to fail. A man must dance on the dragon’s teeth to steal the fire from its tongue. Most are burned alive in the attempt. But better to dance and fall than to never have danced at all. Pity not the man who dies too soon, but the one who lingers too long. For those men who pass peaceful in their beds, who slip one night soft into sleep and wake nevermore … can they be said to have been awake at all?”

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“That you may love at all, de León.” Jean-François tilted his head, pouting in thought. “Perhaps that is why you mortals burn so fierce; because you know the flame must be so brief. For we immortals, there is only loss. All affection fades. Everything dies. Only the blood brings true peace. And you know that joy too; that perfect moment, as darkness is riven crimson and we feel truly alive.” The historian looked the Last Silversaint over, smiling. “But you are also a man. You feel as a man, Gabriel. Live and love and lose as a man. One foot in two worlds, the suffering and bliss of both at your behest.”

If everyone was exceptional, mademoiselle, then no one would be.’

The greatest suit of armor is only as strong as the buckle holding it in place.’

Sometimes the hardest thing of all to do is nothing,

The Black Lion! A guest most honored! Welcome, Nikita bids thee!’ “My brother shook his head as he called reply. ‘Listen, I know none of your dogs have the balls to tell you this, but do you have any idea what a fucking wanker you sound, referring to yourself in third person?’

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Perhaps the devil you know is always better. Perhaps it was simply a matter of misery loving company, for surely, there are none more miserable than the children of the damned.

“If I cannot trust my fate to the Almighty’s hands, can I say I hold faith in him? “And if I did not hold faith in him, why would he hold it in me?

Damn

Strange the memories we cherish, that others cast aside.

I am your brother, Celene. If ever you find yourself alone in the dark, but call my name, and I will be at your side. You are my only sister now. My blood. My kin. It is you and me against this world, Hellion. Ever outnumbered. Never outmatched.’

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But it’s not ’til we’re thrown to the hellfire that we discover how bright we burn.

Everyone in battle has a prayer, Chastain. Problem is, the one they pray to seldom listens.”

But as I held that woman in my arms, I knew she’d spoken truth—that if we’re blessed, we might find someone whose edges fit against our own, like pieces of the same puzzle, or shards of the same broken sword. Someone who, in their own broken way, makes our brokenness whole, and our shattered edge complete.

I don’t love ye, Gabriel de León.’ “I kissed her knuckles, one at a time. ‘I don’t love you too.’

So romantic lol

What’s your name, monsieur?’ I asked him. “‘Joaquin. Joaquin Marenn.’ “‘Well, Joaquin Joaquin Marenn, this world owes you a debt.

If you fight for nothing? That’s exactly what you’ll give to defend it. But if you fight for something worthwhile—I mean something that truly matters—there’s no length you won’t go to. Brotherhood. Famille. Loyalty. Love. All worth trying for. All worth dying for. In the end, that’s what makes us different from you, vampire. And that which makes us different, makes us mighty.”

No fear. Only fury.’

And when all is said and done, when the cheering stops and the music fades, when the stories they tell about you drift into silence, and the songs they sing are stolen by the lonely winter wind, a man is left with the simplest of truths.” “What truth, Gabriel?” Jean-François murmured. “That there is nothing that grows as deep on this green earth, nothing that shines as bright in all the gables of heaven, nothing that burns as fierce in the blazing heart of hell, than a parent’s love for their child.”

Facts

That which was lost, found. That which was found, lost.

Sad