Velvet Cataclysm (Princes of the Underground 1)

“We’re the Iniskium,” Isi told a disgruntled Alison with a brash grin. “And since you’re here with us in the underground, you’d better thank your lucky stars we’re not normal, tiny morsel.”

Saint thought he was going to have to shove Alison down the hole when he ordered her to follow Isi.

The woman’s drunken, high-pitched laughter was amplified by the crystal-lined chamber. It interfered with Teslar’s appreciation of the earth’s harmonious, soothing song. He was becoming so powerful by feeding within the chamber that he hardly required sleep anymore. He could have never fed again and remained strong; the crystals amplified the earth’s vitessence to an exponential degree.

Of course, it was ridiculous to think of never feeding again. He had only two aims in life, to feed and to defeat Saint. After he slaughtered his annoying clone, he could devote himself full-time to his one true love. Teslar’d thought the discovery of the crystal chamber was the most important discovery of his life. But last night had changed his mind.

The woman and the boy were even more significant. Kavya had told him long ago that some day he would encounter something that he would want so much, he would be willing to sacrifice everything in order to obtain it. When he’d seen the woman, he’d recalled Kavya’s prediction. But the riddle-speaking Magian had ignored him for centuries, and Teslar’s respect for him lessened as his own sense of self-worth grew.

He longed to possess the woman, but there was no need to sacrifice anything. Teslar did not sacrifice; he was too deserving, too supreme. She would be his, eventually. A creature of such power and beauty—like life itself distilled—must belong to him.

And to think his sanctimonious clone had been hoarding her all to himself.

Teslar would actually be amused by his clone, if he weren’t so busy hating him with blistering intensity. How Saint managed to continually deny what he was, to choose suffering over the potential magnificence of his existence, was the most flabbergasting, annoying riddle Teslar had ever encountered.

The woman laughed shrilly once again.

“Get her out of here, Marcellus. She annoys me,” Teslar ordered impatiently.

Javier Ash paused in the activity of running his extended fangs across a nude female’s shivering naked torso. Teslar met his first lieutenant’s gaze across the chamber. At least Ash’s evening meal had the courtesy not to annoy Teslar with her braying laughter. Ash was used to his preferences. Teslar rolled his eyes in a long-suffering manner. Ash gave a small smile and sunk his fangs into the female’s hip, the action so effortless, he might have been biting into melting butter.

His latest prey’s hand paused in stroking Teslar’s chest. Teslar gave Elliot a warm smile when he realized the beautiful young man had been put off by the sharp tone of his voice. Elliot resumed petting him worshipfully.

Marcellus’s expression had frozen in the midst of manic mirth. The Scourge slave’s face was pockmarked and hideous, as Teslar had used the Iron Maiden on him for the Final Embrace when he was still in the beginning stages of learning how best to create fear in his victims. That had been several decades ago, before Teslar had perfected and refined his methods.

Marcellus stared at the human woman who knelt before him, wearing nothing but a thong, as if he’d never seen her before. The woman’s hand paused mid-shaft on Marcellus’s thick, glistening cock. Her smile trembled, and her eyes widened in dawning horror at the abrupt change in her companion’s countenance.

Ash lifted his head, a thin rivulet of blood dripping from a fang to his chin. The woman he’d been biting writhed and moaned in protest at his withdrawal.

“Marcellus, don’t you dare,” Ash said, his tone resembling a dog owner who saw his pet start to lift its leg in a public place.

Marcellus hissed, bearing a mouthful of spiked fangs. He ripped out the woman’s throat so abruptly that he ate her scream. She fell over onto the floor with a dull thump, her blood soaking Teslar’s rare oriental carpet.

Teslar made a sound of weary disgust.

“You moron!” Ash shouted, springing off the couch where he’d been lying with the female. He charged across the room, back-handing the Scourge revenant hard across the face. Marcellus spun around and flew into the wall. Blood spurted across the crystals.

“Get it out of here, now!” Ash roared, pointing at the woman’s corpse. “You can come back later and clean up the mess you’ve made.”

Marcellus staggered to regain his balance. He turned around slowly, blood smearing half his Iron Maiden-kissed face.

“But…she displeased the Master,” Marcellus fumbled.

Ash bared his fangs. “The Master hates a mess even more, idiot. You displease me at the moment. Shall I show you the same treatment?”

Marcellus moved quickly to follow Ash’s orders.

“Thank you, Ash. Yo

u may leave now as well,” Teslar said after Marcellus had clambered out of the chamber.

He sensed Ash’s gaze shift from him to Elliot. Elliot snuggled closer in his arms. Teslar couldn’t say he was surprised by the young man’s reaction. Ash evoked terror with just a glance.

When he wasn’t inspiring blind lust, that is, Teslar acknowledged with distant amusement as he watched Ash sweep across the room and lift the naked woman into his arms. The female stared up at the handsome revenant, completely at his mercy.

Well, at least she’d die happy on this night, Teslar thought in an off-handed fashion. It was a wish most humans were never granted.

“I’m glad he’s gone, Master. Javier Ash scares me,” Elliot admitted after the chamber door had closed with Ash and his prey on the other side.