“I can smell the aroma of your-” The vampire halted its words, before its lips parted widely with what happens to be a smile. “It’s been long since I had the blood of a mage.”“Are you…” Bola beat the hands slightly as if begging the vampire to allow him some last words.“What?” The man asked as he loosened his grip. He was cautious at this time. “Are you smiling?” Bola asked, and t
Sweet aroma of chicken and beef lurked on the evening air, keeping down the tension that was written on the faces of the men who sat on the table with their hands on their cheeks.They had long passed their thirties, and the light of the chandelier that beamed down on their squeezed faces was evident to the fact that life has not been treating them fairly. These were the political bodies of the Ekron, the people who make the law and break the same law they enacted. If money could buy happiness, then these men should be smiling by now. Most top buildings and investment in Ekron belong to some of them, and they were the moving power, the force behind the plow.
“Here,” She said and dropped them in front of the men who were still trying to conceal their anger beneath the calm expression.“What is this?” Lim asked as his eyes went from the white paper to Zita.“That,” Zita pointed, “Is a record of all the transaction that has been carried out since my father ascended the throne.”“Impossible” The Queen sat up, her eyes were burning with life now. “The treasurer said it was consumed by the fire that hit the castle some years back.” She stated with confusion. &
“Sure is,” Zita chortled but, grateful that the veil she wore probably covered the lust that was obviously in her eyes.She could sense the blood flowing through his veins. From his round face down to his tiny neck. Under his jaw, just some steps away from his skull was where the carotid artery passed, filled with hot blood and sweet—“Are you alright?” The boy asked, concerned. This had distracted her from thinking how wonderful it would feel for blood to quench her thirst. “Yeah,” Zita licked her lips and looked away. She had frozen again. The last time she felt so hungry was some years back. She had
“I will plead with the queen on your behalf and see if she will write off the debt you owe.” Zita offered seriously. “Will that work?” Gilbert asked. His eyes were already bulging out of his skull. He also find her offer suspicious. Isn’t it better to have a deal with them first, instead of exposing them and the later? Did she perhaps regretted her earlier action? Why is she trying to help them now? “No, silly. You will be cleaning the streets by the time such insane plan works,” Zita said as she laughed, thinking that they were old fools, playing the funny game.
“But I thought Festus was a man of integrity,” The Queen said with confusion in mid of her heartache. “King Fagh was one of his kind. May his soul rest in peace,” The King’s horn said, “Nobody can match his integrity and honesty, don’t mistake the two.”“Mother, please stop crying,” Zita, she comfortingly said before she hugged the woman and pulled slowly away. She wiped her face with her own towel and exhaled, not realizing that she had been holding her breath form the lemon fragrance that covered the Queens cloth. Her stomach churned, and a voice in her head urged her to get away from the Queen as far away as she could.
“You deserve better, Abigail. I will be proud of you, even in my grave.” Queen Isabel continued. She was happy to finally say that to her daughter. Zita continued to laugh happily at this. After a moment, she nodded her head to Gilman. The old man walked towards the Queen smiling darkly.“What is it, Gilman? What is happening here?” The queen said and made to stand up when she noticed that something was amiss with the way Gilman was looking at her. However, Gilman forced her back on the bed. “What is going on?!” The Queen demanded alarmed. Zita turned to meet the confused exp
“Don’t Watchers live to old age?” Ginika asked curiously. Vera opened her mouth to say something, but closed them and averted her gaze to the sea. After a long silence, she spoke, “Most Watchers live, but they rarely cross the age of seventy,” She sounded over the wind and the horn of the ship.“How old are you?” Ginika asked. He also wondered why she sounds unsure of her own age. “Sixty-two, I think,” Vera shrugged.