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

by Jay Kristoff

Take hold of my hand, For you are no longer alone. Walk with me in hell.

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. The best of us rise above it, the worst of us swallow it whole, but we all of us wade hip-deep through it, every moment of our lives.

I never met a minstrel who wasn’t a liar, coldblood. Nor a holy man who wasn’t a cunt.”

“I had heard you were a man of ill temper.” “Interesting. I hadn’t heard of you at all.” The smile slowly melted.

He never met a bottle he wouldn’t race toward the bottom of.

I knew his fists like I knew my name. And I thought it love.

My mama knew herself, and there’s a fearsome power in that. Knowing exactly who you are and exactly what you’re capable of. Most folk would call it arrogance, I suppose. But most folk are fucking fools.”

never once have I seen the meek inherit anything but the table scraps of the strong.”

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.”

“Too much hate will burn a man to cinders, Chevalier.” “Oui. But at least he’ll die warm.”

“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.

I was being swept up in a river, yet even then, I was old enough to know; there’s a difference between those who swim with the flood and those who drown fighting it. And its name is Wisdom.

‘We are hope for the hopeless. The fire in the night. We will walk the dark as they do, and they shall know our names and despair. For so long as they burn, we shall be flame. So long as they bleed, we shall be blades. So long as they sin, we shall be saints.’

From the greatest horrors are the greatest heroes forged.’

“The graveyards of the world are full of fools who thought of fear as anything but a friend.”

“What kind of hero are you?” Gabriel laughed, shaking his head. “Who the fuck told you I was a hero?”

Gabriel tapped an empty leather pouch at his belt. “Behold the purse in which I keep my fucks for what you think of me.”

“‘De León. Ye live.’ “‘Sadly.’ “‘How?’ he hissed. “‘God didn’t want me. And the devil was afraid to open the door.’

God go with you.’ “‘I’d rather he minded his own fucking business, if it’s all the same.’

“I want you to take this coin to market, and buy me a fuck to give.”

Why pride is looked on as an evil. You work hard at something you’re not born good at? Damn right you should be fucking proud. There’s nothing comes of quitting besides the knowledge you didn’t finish.”

Victors are just folk who were never satisfied being vanquished. The only thing worse than finishing last is not beginning at all. And fuck finishing last.”

The only thing that scared me back then was the thought of dying without ever having done something worthwhile.

Hearts only bruise. They never break.’

“A life without books is a life not lived.

I am putting serious consideration into poisoning his sacramental wine. Do you have any advice on the herbs to use?

There is no hell so cruel as powerlessness.’

‘Do me a favor, Father?’ “‘Ask it, Silversaint.’ “‘If you should happen to meet our Maker tonight, kick him in the cock for me.’

the only thing holding some folk back from the worst atrocities they can imagine is the fear they might not get away with it.

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

It’s a strange truth, but some folk enjoy the notion of owning books more than reading them, and I soon tired of him glowering at my back.

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

We carry the greatest burdens not on our shoulders, but in our hearts.

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

“There’s no need deeper than to be desired. There’s no sweeter word under heaven than please.

I knew the color of bliss then. And its color was red.

‘There’s cliffs up this way. If we’re lucky, we’ll find a cave.’ “‘And if we’re not lucky?’ she asked, teeth already starting to chatter. “‘Then we can thank God for his consistency.’

‘My mama had excellent taste in terrible men.’

Souris smiled like the cat who stole the cream, sold the cow, and fucked the maid.

‘You … shot me.’ “‘Not well enough, apparently.’

“HERE’S A TRUTH about sword fighting, coldblood: Even if you’re bad at it, when the person you’re fighting doesn’t have one? You’re still going to be pretty good.

I’m a bastard is what I am. I’m just your kind of bastard.’

“And I knew the color of desolation then. And its color was red.

I dragged on the shape of what I’d been, and I remembered; there is a time for grief, and a time for songs, and a time to recall with fondness all that has been and gone. “But there is a time for killing too. “There is a time for blood. “And a time for rage. “And a time to close your eyes and become the thing hell wants you to be. “And so. I did.”

In truth, I didn’t know if it would be enough. But when there’s little you can do, do what little you can.

“‘This is hell, Danton,’ I smiled. ‘And the devil loves his own.’

“I am the fire that rages between this and all world’s ending.