Empire of the Vampire (Empire of the Vampire, #1)

by Jay Kristoff

ASK ME NOT if God exists, but why he’s such a prick. Even the greatest of fools can’t deny the existence of evil. We dwell in its shadow every day.

It’s not until you’re a man yourself that you can see the man who raised you for what he was.”

He never touched Mama or Amélie or Celene, not once. But I knew his fists like I knew my name. And I thought it love.

War doesn’t teach you to be a killer,’ he told me once. ‘It’s just a key that opens our door. There’s a beast in all men’s blood,

there’s a fearsome power in that. Knowing exactly who you are and exactly what you’re capable of.

Hate was all I knew at that moment. All its promise and all its power. It took root in me on that chill summer day, and in truth, I don’t think it’s ever let me go.”

“There’s no misery so deep as one you face by yourself. No nights darker than ones you spend alone. But you can learn to live with any weight. Your scars grow thick enough, they become armor.

“He told me one-fifth of three-eighths of fuck all.

“Because God hates me more than he hates you.”

AM THE SWORD THAT LAYS THE SINNER LOW. I AM THE HAND THAT LIFTS THE FAITHFUL HIGH. AND I AM THE SCALE THAT WEIGHS BOTH IN THE ENDING. SO SAY’TH THE LORD.

I’d not just walk. Not just run. “No, in this place, I’d fucking fly.”

There was no perfection to her. But her asymmetry commanded … fascination.

“Cynics say there’s no such thing as love at first sight. But I loved that fucking horse the moment I met him. And feeding him another cube, I knew I’d made a friend for life.

‘You will learn to hate me worse than the whore who spat you from her belly, and the devil who squirted you into it.’

“‘You mean that’s…’ “He nodded. ‘Vampire blood.’ “‘Fuck me,’ I breathed. “‘The Testaments name sodomy a deadly sin, so I’d rather not.’ Talon offered a brief smile. ‘But you’re very pretty, de León, and I appreciate the offer.’

“‘That’s the funny thing about highborn women,’ Theo mused. ‘They’re the same height as any other when they’re down on all fours.’

“Always better to be a bastard than a fool.

“The graveyards of the world are full of fools who thought of fear as anything but a friend.” “Perhaps your legend has swelled in the telling, de León.” “Legends always do. And ever in the wrong direction.”

‘I’d tear the wings off an angel to fly this cage. I’d claw down the sky to carve my name into this earth.’

But more, and truer still, there’s just no one with more to prove than the boy at the bottom of the pile. You feed a man your table scraps, he grows hungry long before he grows thin. And hunger can turn pups into wolves, and kittens into fucking lions.

‘When in a storm, the wise woman prays to God. But she also rows for shore.’

What? She is an old bitch. Trust me. Takes a young bitch to spot one.’

There is no hell so cruel as powerlessness.’

Put a man in a room for a hundred years with a thousand books, and he’ll know a million truths. Put him in a room for a year with silence, and he’ll know himself.”

Two little words can carry weight enough to see empires rise and kingdoms fall. Two little words can begin the end of everything.

He slipped his blade free, stabbing again, into my belly this time. But my thumbs had found his eyes by then, and they sank in, knuckle deep, muted scream and a bird-brittle crunch rising over the rapids’ roar. He stabbed me again before it failed him—that strength which he’d been gifted but to which I’d been fucking born.

Cowards never triumph, Bellamy,’ the slayer growled. “‘They don’t die very often either, Saoirse,’ Chloe noted.

That’s the horrifying part—the only thing holding some folk back from the worst atrocities they can imagine is the fear they might not get away with it.

‘No man nor devil, I,’ the vampire said. “He battered her shield aside, drew back his other hand. “‘I am a Prince of Forever.’ “And lashing out with clawed fingertips, he tore out Saoirse’s throat.

The night was past its deeping now, and he could feel the distant promise of dawn on the horizon. He wondered if they’d let him sleep. He wondered if he’d dream.

But such thoughts were folly, and he knew it—knew it from bitter experience and long, lonely nights, watching the wounds close over before his tear-stung eyes, the curse in his veins not allowing him to die. To sleep. To sleep and never dream.

And her name was Death,’ Aaron whispered.

Your past is stone, but your future is clay. And you decide the shape of the life you’ll make.’

‘Apologies. I’m being a bitch again. Although Mama did tell me: In life, always do what you love.’

No,’ he said again, firmer, looking Khalid and Argyle in the eye. ‘Baptiste speaks lies to spare me punishment. But only because he loves me. As I love him.’ His voice rose over the growing clamor. ‘And that is no fucking sin!’

some folk enjoy the notion of owning books more than reading them,

“When your whole world is going to hell, all you need is someone who sounds like he knows the way.

One or two heartbeats that last a lifetime.

A moment of which you will say, many years and miles from here, that then, if never again, I stood among heroes. And I was one.’

‘But my friends are the hill I die on.’

Aaron, Baptiste, and I ran down the slope toward the Dead. I didn’t remember drawing it, but Lionclaw was in my hand, a burning brand in the other. There was no terror in me then.

remember wondering, if I loved her more than life itself, how could I go on living with her gone? But that is what we do, Little Lion. We carry the greatest burdens not on our shoulders, but in our hearts.

were alive and we were breathing, and even in darkest nights, that can be cause enough for triumph.

‘If we spend all our lives in darkness, is it any wonder when darkness starts to live in us?’

Life is not a story you can tell, de León. It’s only a story you can live. The bright news is, you get to choose what kind yours will be. A story of horror, or a story of courage. A story of indulgence, or a story of duty. The story of a monster. Or the a story of a man.’

‘But if you do want me, Gabriel de León, then say it. Because only a coward would cherish the wanting of a thing and yet send it away. And I will not give my heart to a coward. I will give it to a lion.’

Her eyes were darker than all the roads I’d walked and all the monstrous things I’d seen, and in them I knew I’d find a heaven if only I were willing to risk a hell.

“There’s no need deeper than to be desired.

“Your voice will never feel so tiny as when you’re screaming at God,” he whispered.

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