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I heard pursuit behind, another shout: ‘Halt in the name of the Inquisition!’ but when the fuck has that worked, honestly?
Lol
“Never let the truth get in the way of a good yarn.
They say the best revenge is living well, but there’s still a lot to be said for dancing beneath the blood moons in a cloak made of your enemy’s skin.
Lol good point!
“‘And who said that you get to tell me anything at all, boy?’ “‘Your mama,’ he scowled. ‘After I rumped her on your papa’s sheets.’
You treat the people around you like shit.’ “‘I treat the people around me like they deserve. It’s just most people deserve to be treated like shit.’
The world needs bad men, boy. We keep the monsters from the door.’ “‘But that’s the problem, hero. Bad men never realize when the monster is them.’
I even heard one tale that the Lion took Ashdrinker from the trove of the dread faequeen, Ainerión. Her kiss spells death for any mortal man, Dior, and yet the Lion loved Ainerión so long and so sweetly, he was able to steal the enchanted blade from her bedside after she collapsed in exhaustion.
fire burns these leeches better than a gigolo with the clap.
Lol
“Dior’s arm was still bleeding, his neck too, and the boy smeared the blood from his own wounds onto his palm. And as I watched, he pressed that crimson hand to the gaping hole in Rafa’s throat, and my heart fell still. Because I swear by God and Mothermaid and Redeemer too, at his bloody touch, that wound stitched itself closed.
But one thing is certain, and two for sure. Michon was not only the Redeemer’s disciple.’ “The old man sighed as if from his bones. “‘She was his lover.’
“‘Michon didn’t capture the Redeemer’s lifeblood in some cup, Gabe.’ Chloe pressed one hand to her belly. ‘She captured his essence in her own. And nine months after his death, she gave birth to his child. A daughter. Named Esan.’
“‘A direct descendant of God’s son,’
But that falling star we saw? That star marked the moment of Dior’s birth.
“‘You’re telling me this skinny little fuckstain…’ “‘… is the last-known scion of Esan’s line. Dior doesn’t know where the Grail is, Gabriel. He is the Grail. The cup of the Redeemer’s blood.’
“Two little words. “‘Come in.’”
‘The enemy of my enemy—’ “‘Is just another enemy, Bouchette. I’m only pondering which will pay a visit first.’
‘You’re sailing awfully close to the shores of a little island most call None of Your Fucking Business.’
‘It’s the lowest kind of man who raises a fist to his child and calls it love. And it’s the worst kind of tyrant who demands you adore him above all others.’
“I glanced to the shivering rat at my feet. ‘You aright, boy?’ “‘I’m all r-right,’ he wheezed. “‘Because you look like shit twice stepped in.’ “Dior squinted up at me and coughed. ‘We look n-nothing alike, hero.’
Lolol 😂
Tis what we name it, Silversaint. Ishaedh. The Blight. Twisting and ruining all that was once green and good.’ “I glanced around, shrugged. ‘They’re just mushrooms, girl.’
Chloe picked herself up, shaken, eyes on the fallen horror. “‘Great fucking Redeemer.’ “‘Blasphemy,’ we all chorused.
A geas.’ “‘Aye.’ Saoirse traced the tattoos on her face. ‘My oath is sworn to end the Blight, by the spirit of the Rígan-Mor and the All Mothers, carved in my own moonsblood upon my sacred skin. And until my vow is fulfilled, nae man can kill me. And nae devil shall dare try.’
Dead shall rise, an’ stars shall fall; “‘Weald shall rot to ruin ae all. “‘Lions roar an’ angels weep; “‘Sinners’ hands our secrets keep. “‘Til Godling’s heart brights hea’en’s eye, “‘From reddest blood comes bluest sky.’
‘Always a fucking poem, isn’t there?’
A life without books is a life not lived.’
soothsinger must pen seven songs to be considered a master by his peers in the Opus Grande. Seven songs through which they might speak the truth of the world. That was my sixth. “Sorrow and Solace.”’
“And then she stepped right across the threshold.
“I looked to the blade in the monster’s hand. Those unanswered questions ringing louder in my head. And I gave one voice, eyes on the vampire as I whispered. “‘… Sanguimancy?’
The Inquisition…’ Rafa whispered. “‘In murdering the monastery’s brethren, flaying and burning and torturing them, those fools profaned this place. Soaked it in the blood of innocents and holy men.’ I shook my head, retrieving Ashdrinker from the stone. ‘San Guillaume is sacred ground no longer.’
But before every battle I ever fought, I’d look at the faces of those boys, and in their loyalty to each other, in their courage at the sight of those horrors, I tell you sure and true, I used to see the face of God.’
Give someone the power to do anything they want, and they’ll do exactly that. 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.
“‘I am a Prince of Forever.’ “And lashing out with clawed fingertips, he tore out Saoirse’s throat.
Oh no!
“The lioness came to rest at Danton’s feet, her mistress’s axe buried in her ribs. She tried to rise, claws scrabbling at the polished tip of Danton’s boot. The Beast of Vellene seized the lioness by her throat, hauled her up to dangle, limp and twitching before him. And with casual brutality, he wrenched Kindness free in a gout of blood and flung the fated blade off the cliff at his back. And raising Phoebe high into the air, he hurled the lioness into the courtyard below, her body shattering on the stone.
If he had done it—if he’d cast that wheel away and stood undaunted, unafraid, I’ve no doubt in my mind Danton would have broken like glass. The wheel was just a thing. It was Rafa’s faith that mattered. “But the priest hesitated. He doubted. He feared. “And the glow in the wheel began to die.
Our last bastion had fallen, the priest groaning as the kiss took hold, lifting his arms and throwing them, like a drowning man to driftwood, about the shoulders of the thing that was murdering him.
“‘Dior is all that matters, Gabe.’ “And letting go of my hand, she plunged down into the dark. “‘CHLOE!’ Dior roared.
Nooo not Chloe!
“Dior is a girl’s name as well as a boy’s, Silversaint.” “Do tell, vampire.”
“You never suspected? But your dear Chloe told you that falling star had marked the Grail’s birth! That’s why he wouldn’t take off his shirt to dry it. That’s why Saoirse referred to him by a feminine endearment like ‘flower.’ He wasn’t a fourteen-year-old boy, she was a sixteen-year-old girl! Oh, de León, you are priceless. How much the fool did you feel?”
Omg Dior is a girl
“‘Fuck,’ she said. “‘My,’ I replied. “‘Face,’ we chorused.”
“But that’s the problem, vampire. Hard as I try. Much as I wish.”
“I remember everything.”
“This Marianne Luncóit. “Raven Child.
‘It’s cold as a bog hag’s tit in here.’
‘Mark my words, youngblood. You don’t want to be a hero. Heroes die unpleasant deaths, far from home and hearth.’
“‘Instead, she met me.’
Did she turn his sister?
“‘Thou art already ours, paleblood. Thy little Aoife could testify to—’ “And that was it. I cried warning, but Talon just fucking snapped, charging in, Aaron beside him. And though I stepped forward, light blazing, still Laure Voss opened her arms.
Talon had something to do with Aife?
“That girl had a thousand smiles,” he sighed. “A smile cruel as winter wind, that cut you down to shivering bone. A smile light as dove’s down, just the softest hint of it across her cheek to let you know she was listening as you spoke. A smile that could make you fear, and a smile that could make you cry, and a smile that made you feel like you were the only man alive. And the smile she gave me that night was the first time she’d ever done so, and I’ve not forgotten it, not through all the blood and fire, not through all the nights from that one to this. A smile that whispered, and made me
...more
“I could scarce believe what I was seeing. Aaron’s hands were in Baptiste’s britches, kneading and stroking, the smith groaning all the way from his heart. They moaned into each other’s mouths, hungry as starving wolves. As I watched, Aaron shoved Baptiste backward, the pair colliding with the stone wall. They were heedless of all but each other, lost in passion, too much body and not enough hands. I’d never imagined a scene like this, part of me appalled, part of me fascinated, watching them sway in the forge’s light.
“I remembered the tale Aaron had told me in his stepfather’s hall. The lover that the Baron de Coste had beaten to death. And I realized that ‘Sacha’ was a boy’s name as well as a girl’s.
“And I wondered then: Could goodness come of sin? “And if so, how could it be sin at all?
