Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

her ego, but if she lost face badly enough in the power-worshipping Pravus, her very life could be in jeopardy.
    Sabine heard more snickers. Hettiah and her coterie of worthless Sorceri friends strolled past the sisters on their way into court. Their mocking glances made it easy for Sabine to see she would have to strike out.
    Lose face, lose life. This was her world. She hadn't gone through the effort of surviving in it this long just to be killed when she was on the cusp of something more. "I'm going to have to fight in there if challenged."
    Though she and Lanthe had no battle sorcery, they both were scrappy and had become fair swordswomen. In battle, Sabine used her illusions to make them invisible, allowing them to run around the field, decapitating merrily.
    It wasn't very valorous, but then, only stupid people held valor over life.

    "I know you'll have to," Lanthe said quietly. "And I can't be there with you."
    "Hey, don't worry." Sabine held up her gauntlets. "I just had my claws sharpened." She rapped the metal together, and the smooth ringing tone was pleasing to the ear-Without warning, Lothaire traced in front of them, peering down at them from his towering height.
    Sabine raised her hands up to him, ready to draw his nightmares. "I've heard friends of yours plan to visit?"
    "I'll trace away before you madden me, sorceress," he said, his words laced with a thick accent. Some said he hailed from Dacia, and had been a true Transylvanian.
    Sabine's lips thinned, but she lowered her hands. He hadn't threatened her, and she wasn't supposed to attack Lothaire. Technically, he was part of the New Pravus.
    One of the inner circle. His blood was in that tablet that hung on the east wall.
    He said, "Just to be clear, I have no friends. And my soldiers are in the bailey downstairs."
    "Then who lurks in our forest?" she asked.
    "One of the splinter factions breaking away from the Horde since the old vampire king died.
    My spies indicate they'll attack tomorrow night."
    Tornin had protections in place-basically a mystickal moat-so the vampires wouldn't be able to trace directly inside. At least, not for long. "What do they want?"
    "The well."
    The Well of Souls. Armies always sought to control it, because each faction of the Lore had its own legends surrounding it.
    The Lykae believed it cured the madness that accompanied the transformation to werewolf.
    The vampires believed it allowed them to be daywalkers and to turn human females into vampires for their potential Brides. The House of Witches believed it gave them the abilities of all five of their castes.
    In truth, Sabine didn't know what the hell it did. Even Omort vowed he didn't. All they knew was that the well's power would be unimaginable-and unlocked only by Sabine's son.
    "Who leads the vampires?" Lanthe asked.
    "They have no true ruler, because they won't accept a commoner like myself."
    The Horde was notorious for following only those born in the royal line. "Yet you lead the ones who've joined the Pravus."
    "I might have mentioned to them that the well will resurrect the old Horde king to rule them once more. As soon as the Pravus wins."
    Devious vampire. He rose another notch in Sabine's opinion. "What about Kristoff?" He was the old king's nephew and should be the true ruler, being of royal lineage, though not a drinker of living blood.
    Lothaire shook his head. "They know he will make them abide by his laws. They have been lawless for so long, they won't be brought to heel that easily. Plus, they like the taste of human flesh." Had he licked his fang for a shot of blood? "This is a mere fraction of the army that will gather. In the next two nights, more will come. Many of them know this land from fighting the mighty demon king in ages past."
    Everyone knew the tales of Rydstrom riding out in his fearsome black helmet, beating the Horde back from Tornin. His battles were legendary. "One would think you'd be able to persuade them to leave."
    "Would one?"
    "Sabine!" Omort yelled from inside. He was glassy-eyed, but when he saw her at the doorway, he seemed to rouse. Then he spied Lanthe beside her. "Be gone, Melanthe!" he ordered. "Back to your tower."
    "One day . . ." Lanthe said telepathically, slinking off. "Goodluck."
    As Sabine sauntered inside toward the throne, all eyes were on her. When she separated from Lothaire- lest others suspect them of a secret alliance-the vampire murmured, "Noted, sorceress."
    Once she reached the dais, Omort was