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After all, fear became hate when it festered long enough. The world always teemed with darkness, Ettenia had just given it a new name.
Traditionally, a vampire was born when a person on the brink of death ingested vampire blood. Whether they were exsanguinated by an undead or died of other means, the process was the same: Drink an adequate amount of vampire blood in those precious seconds, and the deed was done. Half vampires were different. They were fed vampire blood while they were still alive, and often against their will, giving them all the energy of the living and then some, enough to unleash their pain upon the innocent without even realizing it.
She was, simply put, a tempest in a bottle, tiny and simmering and ready to obliterate.
She was still a child, but when you saw the cruelty of the world firsthand, you became a little cruel yourself.
“Ambition keeps the heart pumping,”
mortui vivos docent following the curve. The dead teach the living.
He slumped back. “I’m going to miss our chats when all of you turn up dead.”
“If I needed to like everyone I worked with, I’d have to do everything myself,” Arthie said.
“No one in a city of crooks builds a wall without precautions,”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight until this job is done.” He slipped on his tinted spectacles. “You certainly know how to motivate a man, darling.”
“We break bones and accept the consequences, Official. And that makes me better than you. You lack culpability. That doesn’t warrant an office but a cage in a menagerie.”
“Fear stops life, not death,”
“Nor do we throw ourselves at a vampire while bleeding all over his porch.”
Sprigs of rosemary for remembrance, a pair of gladiolas for pride and victory, asters for patience.
If anyone were to open up the pistol and look inside, there would be a single bullet in its chamber, despite the fact that she had used it and never once reloaded it.
“I’ve never liked thrones and those who sit on them, digging graves with a swipe of a pen.”
“This is the part where you thank me.” “If I ever do, you’ll know that something is very wrong,” she replied, fighting to remain in control of herself.
“It’s teatime, scoundrels.”
