Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1)

by Scarlett St. Clair

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world…

Forgiveness is an invitation to sin. It will be our ruin.

Forgiveness was an invitation to sin. I witnessed it every week, which was why I’d decided a long time ago that I did not care to be forgiven. I’d rather be a sinner than a hypocrite.

Except that was all really bullshit, because the blood of the Elohai—the blood of God—only gave magic to women. It made us powerful, a power we could not even utilize because we were subservient to men.

“They don’t make them like you anymore,” he said. I raised a brow. “Say that again,” I said. “To my face.”

“Ephraim,”

Oop, relevant to the Ephraim? Or just a Genesis Easter egg?

We were not responsible for lust in men. We existed, and they desired. Sometimes that desire was mutual. Sometimes it wasn’t, but men had a hard time wrapping their dicks around the word no, and since our world valued them more, we were the ones who suffered.

he knew religion bred hostility, especially toward women.

I wanted that mouth to do something other than frown at me, but he remained firm.

“Their judgment is fear, Lilith,” he said. “And fear is power.”

Though other than creation, celibate priests were probably the biggest myth in Eden.

“You’re the only one who would say so, little love,” he replied. I was used to Zahariev’s nickname for me, but it still made me blush.

I reached the glimmering treasure at my feet. A gold dagger, set with radiant gems. I dragged my tongue over my dry lips. The metallic taste of blood turned my stomach. I took the blade in hand. It was heavy, already a burden.

Beware she who bleeds, bound in chains. Beware the exile, the young winged beast, who dances unafraid before fire. Beware the woman with many names, the maiden, the whore, the scarlet serpent. Beware the temptress who whispers in the dark. She is the beginning and the end. She is peace and chaos. She is terror knocking at the gates.

I was a spoiled brat. I was a rich girl. I didn’t appreciate that life. But people down here in Nineveh only saw a fraction of the truth. They saw the beauty, the glamor, the money, but they didn’t know the cost.

“It is not your doing, Analisia. I know your devotion,” Archbishop Lisk had assured her. “Some children are born with demons in their hearts.”

I have built our reputation, and you will carry my legacy. It was a legacy I never wanted, but it was one I might not have run away from if it wasn’t for Archbishop Lisk. He was the man who had turned me against the church. It might have begun as an institution for good, an organization that provided order and a sense of morality for people, but that all hinged on who ran it, and if the leadership was corrupt, everything else must be too.

“A warning from who, Tori?” When he looked at me again, the kid was gone. A different person stared back at me, a man who was seeing something beyond this world. “The gods,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering. “Can’t you hear them? They are knocking at the gates.”

“Mom would be so disappointed,” Cassius said. “Can’t be disappointed if you’re dead,” I said.

Lollll

“Greed is the root of evil,” I said. My brother scoffed. “Says the fucking seed.”

“We are living in a simulation!” he yelled. “The true gods are trapped beneath the mountain. They are knocking at the gates! Can’t you hear them? Can’t you hear them? Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“The church is a slave to the gods under the mountain!”

“Do you hear that knocking?” Tori asked.

“It’s getting louder,” Tori said. “You’ll hear it soon.” “I appreciate the warning,” I said. “Take care, Tori.”

“Maybe the good Lord took him to spare you.” I narrowed my gaze. “You don’t believe in the good Lord,” I said. He grinned. “No, but it sounds good, doesn’t it?”

There wasn’t a single man in Eden who thought loving me was worth the threat of my father. It was in these moments I realized no matter how far I traveled, no matter how deep the break, I would never escape my family.

Beware, goddess of night, Mother of the moon. There is poison on your tongue, Venom in your blood. Lie upon my altar, Bleed upon my steps. Release me from these bindings, Break down these carmine gates.

One side of his mouth lifted. “I just want you to look me in the eyes when you lie.”

“But everyone who’s touched that blade has ended up dead, save you and me. I doubt whoever has it now will be an exception.”

Why's it so obvious

I couldn’t look at him without thinking of all the terrible things he’d done to me since the moment my mom allowed him to be alone with me. And I knew by the feel of his own lust he did too.

Of course

I hated him in a way that made me want to crumble, but I wanted to hate him in a way that made me rage.

Dark mother, Reverent queen, Wear your darkness like a shroud. Make your descent through crimson caves, Coil at their tangled roots. Drink sweetly from the grail, The holy blood, the venom, the ecstasy of night. Awaken the sacred fire and rise to strike, Unleash your fury, your eternal wail. Break these chains, these binding gates.

My vision blurred, and suddenly, the bloody remains of the serpent were gone. I had taken its place, and embedded deep in my chest was a gold and gleaming blade.

I gripped my comforter, noticing the sand on my sheets, and dragged it to the floor. There, gemstones gleamed in a golden hilt, its blade buried deep in the springs of my mattress.

“You have a pretty mouth, little love, but you say the ugliest things.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the commission. I would think you’d understand that by now, but I guess you’re too busy assuming the worst to actually fucking listen to me.”

“Keep the cat,” he said. “Learn to let someone love you.”

OH MY GOD KING

Drink sweetly from the grail, The holy blood, the venom, the ecstasy of night. Unleash your fury, your eternal wail. Break these chains, these binding gates. I thought about Tori’s warnings.

I once asked Zahariev why he hadn’t rebuilt. He had enough money. He could give everyone here a nicer place to live. If I gave them a new area, it would no longer be theirs. At first, I didn’t understand what he meant, but it didn’t take long to learn. A week in Nineveh, and I had watched those who had take from those who had less and those who had less take from those who had nothing. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The foundation of Hiram’s wealth had begun in Nineveh with the canal, the desert, the mines. I just never expected to see the same abuse on a micro level, but sometimes people were worn so thin, all they could do was survive.

“You have an excellent familiar,” she said. “She’s not a familiar,” I said and immediately regretted it. The woman offered a crude smile. “Not so disentangled from your beliefs as you’d have me think,” she said.

“If familiars are not demonic spirits,” I said, “then what is a demon?” “There are no such things,” she said. I frowned, but the woman offered a small, humorless smile. “Not the answer you wanted, is it? Consider that before you return. Nothing I have to tell you will be comforting.”

I expected him to say something—one day, you’ll learn to listen to me. But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything at all.

You act like this has to mean something. Fucking brat. She meant everything.

“I’ll never forgive myself, Zahariev—” “Yeah, well,” he said, brushing my tears away. “Forgiveness is overrated. It’s just something churchgoers shove down your throat so they can beg for it when they sin.”

“Promise me something,” he said, still watching me. “What?” “If you ever feel like you don’t want to do this anymore…tell me. Give me the chance to bring you back.”

“I know your secret,” I said, my fingers tightening, digging into his skin. “If you harm one hair on her head, I’ll end you.” I took a step back, holding his gaze. It was as though his crimes had suddenly caught up with him. They pulled at his face, aging him. “And just so we’re clear, that’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

Somewhere behind me lay a corpse. She looked like me but was not me. Not anymore.

“Only darkness would accuse the light of fear,”

“Desire is only a weakness when it’s starved.”

Give me your venom, your holy blood. I will take your poison, your silver tongue. Drink deep from my body, taste darkness on my lips. Worship me within my temple, on the steps of my altar. Bring forth my rapture, my violent end.