More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Read between
October 18 - October 19, 2025
“I’m… just going to head out, then.” To find a Monastery outpost that would take me in before word spread, and I was hunted down. One step back, still facing him. Then another. When he didn’t move, I began to twist away in earnest, but his voice cut through as sharp as any of the guard’s blades. “No. You’re not.”
He had the same chestnut hair as all those years ago, his eyes kind and guileless. The people of Eurobis might fear their Storm-Blooded King, but they loved Marcel. His smile was broad, disguise magic perfecting his teeth that had been crooked as a child.
“We won’t get to any Librarians today. This must be his pilgrimage.” “His pilgrimage?” Raphael asked. I snorted. Something I knew about Eurobis that the vampire didn’t. The list shouldn’t have been as short as it was, considering it was my kingdom. But that’s what a long life got him, and a decade of servitude had gotten me.
Raphael was quiet for a long beat. I wondered if he’d go back on his word. “You’re observant, I’ll give you that,” he eventually said with something that bordered on respect in his tone. “Well?” I prodded. “I was looking for something. I was led to believe I’d find it near the witch prison. When I didn’t find it, I decided to let some pompous guards think they’d found me, and enthralled them into imprisoning me rather than attempting to decapitate me.” “But why? What were you looking for?” “I’ve answered your question. If you wanted more details, you should’ve been more specific.”
“You could continue with me. Come to my realm.” I actually managed to laugh at that. It had to be a joke. “A human? Find sanctuary in the Vampire Kingdom?” “It’s not so uncommon,” he said mildly. “Because your kind use us as chattel,” I snapped. “Just a food source for any hungry vampire to drink from.” “You wouldn’t be. If you came with me, I’d see to that.” “And what power do you have to promise that?” I demanded.
“In precise terms, how can one gain possession of the Black Grimoire, as soon as reasonably possible?” The journeyman jolted back as if I’d used an electric card on him. His hood fell away, revealing an average face, lips gaping at me like a kraken out of water. “That question,” he breathed. “How do you know about that? Why would you ask that?” I frowned at his strong reaction. I’d expected the journeyman to laugh at me. His reaction said there was more truth to the stories than I realized.
“Something else,” he hissed. “Ask us how to make your fortune. Ask us where to find the one you will wed. Or how to avoid your death.”
“Go north, to the marshes, to the abandoned temple of Anagenni. The Black Grimoire was entombed there seven hundred and seventy-seven years ago. It is locked away behind a statue of the patron goddess, guarded by traps even we do not know, so only the worthy may take possession of the book.” The voice faded, and the journeyman glared at me. “You have your answer. Now begone.”
“You’ve come to seek sanctuary in the temple of the gods, the true rulers of the realm. Do you wish for their deliverance?” Devoin intoned. His words were pious, but there was something in the tone that rankled. A coating of superiority that followed each one out, that said, I have what you want. I forced myself to hold my head high. “I do.”
“Who’s Anagenni?” We were sitting in the bedroom again. At first, Raphael had watched me in constant silence. I was the one who broke it, and now we spoke about different things while I worked. Well, Raphael did much of the talking, at my request. He told me of travels, of different parts of the kingdom even I hadn’t heard of. He said nothing of the Vampire Kingdom, but sometimes he’d allude to things which would set my curiosity ablaze. “Even the Monastery didn’t know,” I continued when he said nothing. Raphael snorted. “I suppose those fanatics wouldn’t. Anagenni is the goddess of death. The
...more
“What do you mean Western Vampire Kingdom?” “There are three realms ruled by vampires,” Raphael explained. He didn’t seem surprised I wasn’t aware of this. “The North, the West, and the South. The West, seated at Damerel, is the strongest. The South is the most populous and richest. The North is… I suppose unusual is the most succinct way to describe it.”
“Is it home?” There was a long pause. So long I wondered if perhaps the vampire had gone to sleep. But then— “I confess to you, I think I’ve forgotten the meaning of the word.”
The distant awareness of pain was nothing compared to how my body reacted as the stranger’s nostrils flared at the scent of my blood. He moved fast, imperceptibly fast to my human eyes, as he surged towards me. I screamed. And then the vampire was flying across the hallway. The perfectly ornamented red-and-purple walls caved in as the vampire collided. Raphael lunged after the vampire, baring his teeth like a wild animal. He lifted the vampire with a single hand. “Mine,” he snarled.
She ignored a pointed cough from Iademos. “My name is Amalthea, court seer to the Vampire Kingdom of the West and resident know-it-all. Or if not all, at least the interesting parts. That disapproving fanged menace is Iademos, right hand to the Vampire King of the West and general of Damerel’s army.”
“I’m Samara. No fancy titles, I’m afraid. Just a stray Raphael picked up.” Amalthea laughed, and Iademos’s lip curled into something that might have been a repressed smile. “Oh, you’re much more than that. You’re the first human Raphael’s ever claimed as his Chosen.”
“There’s no such thing as illegal magic, any more than there are illegal clouds. Magic chooses its form, and we obey. Only a fool attempts to restrict the existence of kinds of magic. There will always be a reckoning for such hubris.” The words were almost a growl by the time Amalthea finished speaking. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean—that was rude of me.”
“Is that why you serve Raphael? Because you want to be a vampire?” “No. I’ve seen enough of my fate to not want more,” she said, a touch quiet. “I serve Raphael because he’s a decisive, fair king. Besides, it’s forbidden to turn a witch. Immortality, supernatural strength, and magic? Even the gods would condemn that.”
“Gracious, stop shaking. He’ll lambaste me for distressing you.” I shook the memories off as well as her hands. “I’m not going to run off and tattle to Raphael.” The thought was preposterous. Amalthea took a long drag of her tea, her smallest finger extended as she dipped the cup back. “It’ll hardly matter, dear. He’ll know. He drank your blood, after all.”
Titus tsked. “Now, now. A little time in Greymere for a void is nothing. It’s not like you’re a witch.” Greymere was hell. But there was no point in arguing the matter. He was simply goading me. “I just want a fresh start, Titus.” “A fresh start. For you, of all people?” He took a step forward, but I had no room to go back. “I simply find it interesting that their demon king has taken an interest in you. I wonder if he’d be as charitable if he knew who you really were?”
“You should learn more about your new owners, Samara Koisemi. See more of the mountain. Learn what lies in the rot of their kingdom. And when you can no longer lie to yourself, and remember your true allegiances, I’ll be back.” He tossed the dagger at my feet. “I’m a wonderful ally, girl. But remember: The king’s shadowed hand is a terrible enemy to have. Something your mother should have known.”
“He thought I serve the creature Raphael was sent to hunt, didn’t he?” I pressed. The necromancer. “He must have thought you served Anagenni,” he explained with reluctance. I frowned. “You said the vampires worship Anagenni.” “Vampires do revere Anagenni,” Amalthea explained. “But it’s not precisely true to say she is a beloved goddess. They fear her.”
This is the book of the necromancer. The witch who alone serves Anagenni, they who control all who have perished. Through the goddess’s will, the necromancer has dominion over bone and blood, soul and spirit. The undead bow to the necromancer. One witch is gifted to the world every two hundred years with Anagenni’s blessing. They alone can right the balance. The undead bow to the necromancer.
The scourge they feared, the way I had feared them ever since my mother died in front on me. The necromancer. A feral smile curled over my lips. I was the necromancer Raphael had been hunting for centuries. And I was going to tear his kingdom apart, one fanged monster at a time.
