Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1) by Kathryn Kingsley (great novels to read txt) 📕

They had never cared for him.

He was just another tool to them. Another toy to entertain their precious only son, Aon. The only one who had ever graced Under without being stolen from Earth. Or Gioll, he amended to himself.

He smiled. How wonderful it was to think that Under could cross paths with other worlds. It meant there was more in this universe than he had known.

Good.

It meant he’d feel a little less bad about destroying this portion of it. If Under was only one of many worlds, it wasn’t such a great and terrible sin to burn it all to the ground. Yes. He was going to make the Ancients watch as he turned their precious world and all their little toys to dust. He would march his army all over Under, spreading and growing like a plague, and only then would he return to their cathedral—the place Rxa had called home for so very long—and find a way to kill them, too.

The thought made him happy. He tried to whistle and confirmed that he really didn’t have much in the way of lips.

He missed owning lips.

And a face.

And organs.

And muscles.

And skin.

But he knew what would fix that. He watched with a grin as a few of his drengil—what an odd, but charming, word for zombies—dragged a terrified, whimpering man toward him. The man wore blue ink on his face marking him as one of Ini’s.

Rxa was humming an old tune to himself as he grabbed the man by the hair. He was untouched, save for the dirt on his clothes and scuffmarks on his palms. The corpses hadn’t hurt him. They were so very good at following orders. It’s nice not to have to deal with the wants and needs of others for once.

“Let me go! Let me go, please!” the man screamed.

Rxa ignored him. “I spent my life worrying about other people. About Under. About the Ancients and their will.”

“Please—Sir, spare me, I beg you!”

Throwing the man to the ground, Rxa pinned him there easily. “No.” He cackled.

“Please—please!” The man was crying now.

His weeping broke off into a wail of terror as Rxa removed his mask, confirming his theory that he wasn’t exactly in ownership of a full face yet.

But he did have something he remembered. Baring his sharp fangs, the hallmark of those who served in the House of Blood, he lowered his head to the man’s face and tore his soulmark from his cheek with nothing but his teeth.

The man bucked and struggled, but Rxa barely felt the effort. He had always been strong. Now, even more so. Good. It would be easier to fight those like Edu and Dtu who preferred to fight hand-to-hand.

He wondered how those two were doing. It would be nice to see them again, even if it would be right before murdering them.

Chewing on the scrap of flesh, he swallowed it. The man was still screaming. The sound didn’t bother Rxa any as he leaned down to lap at the blood pooling in the wound. He moaned in bliss as the hot liquid slid down his throat. Oh, he had always relished the flavor. It had always been ecstasy to sink his fangs into a willing victim and drink from them.

He had always insisted on picking a consenting partner when he had chosen to feed.

I was the kind one. The loving one. The fair one.

There had also never been a shortage of offers. He had been truly beautiful.

So much had changed.

He dug his teeth into the soft flesh of the man’s cheek, pulling his head back and ripping another chunk off like he was a wild animal tearing into a kill.

Rxa ate.

Slowly, bit by bit, the man’s screams tapered off to silence. He had gone into shock. His heart was still pumping blood out of the wounds that now decorated his face, neck, and chest. Rxa dug bloody fingers into the man’s stomach, clawing through skin, and sinew, and tendon. He ripped it open, tossing the less appetizing pieces aside. His corpses had no problems eating his scraps.

He was after one thing in particular. One thing that he’d want to eat while it was fresh. Shoving his hand up inside the man’s ribcage, he grabbed his heart in his fist and yanked. It took a few good tugs, and a bit of squirming his arm around, but he finally managed to pull the vital organ lose from the now very permanently dead man’s body.

It was a little torn. It hadn’t wanted to come out, after all. But it was warm, gooey, red, and beautiful. Licking it, Rxa moaned again and shivered as pleasure rushed over him. It was good to know his nerves weren’t limited to just feeling pain.

Sinking his teeth into the heart, he said one last prayer to the Ancients.

I pray you’re watching.

When the man was gone, and nothing but bits of bone and refuse, he stood. He felt a little less hungry, if only a little. But he felt itchy on the inside. My dove said I was healing. Maybe this is how I do it.

He grinned and put his mask back on his face. He had no problem eating as many people as he could. With a happy heart, and an extra one in his stomach, he started up the street to the road he knew headed west. He snapped his fingers—well, he tried, it made more of a wet sounding peh peh noise and less of a snap—at the line of corpses who stared at him, waiting for a command. “We’re going to go visit an old friend. A very old friend.” He hooted in laughter. “We march to kill the King of Shadows!”

The creatures turned and began to move.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

They were dead.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting.

Rxa sighed.

“Eventually.”

Ember fell onto her hands and knees in the grass and fought the urge to be sick. Her head was spinning, and she felt as though she had