My newest nightwalker–still in development, but he has a mind of his own already — especially where it concerns The Necromancer’s Manual–
“This is your quest, Ms. Binford.” He gently, reverently lifted open the case and removed the book, not even caring if she questioned why he didn’t wear gloves. It wasn’t as if she would ever get the chance to tell any of her millennial friends. He closed his eyes for a quick second, remembering how it had felt when he wrote its pages, how it had felt to have such power. No one on this earth had a clue that this—this was the original book, and the Munich piece was the copy. He was its original author. It had been right after Carlo had escaped him, sure of his fledgling powers. He had been so angry, so full of ire, that he had invoked the dark mage in him that he had held at bay ever since his turning. He had labored long and hard to produce it, then paid some nameless German charlatan of no importance to make a copy with subtle changes that would render it powerless. The poor man had no clue that his own original works that followed were as worthless as the men and women who believed in them, but this one? This volume held the power of the ages. All the powers except the one he really needed…
..the power to find Carlo. He gave a sardonic smile. The gods and demons in heaven and Hell were surely laughing at him now.
“Don’t you keep it under lock and key, Dr. O’Connor?” He shook his head as she sat at the table, ready to receive it.
“No need, my dear. I’m its very capable guardian.” He stood by her, waiting.
“Did my receptionist give you the cloth for the table so it won’t rest on the table’s surface?” She nodded in agreement, removing it from her messenger bag.
“Please spread it out now.” He watched with pleasure as she complied, glad she was quiet. He didn’t need to listen to his food talking. It was rather unnerving, to say the least. It was bad enough when they screamed. He would just have to make sure she was leaning over the book when the time came. Its pages needed fresh blood as well.
Ninian moved behind her as she stared at the book, spellbound. He moved closer until he could hear her breathing as she turned its pages, and took a long sniff of her soft skin. He would definitely need more oxygen after this.
Nadia moved back, startled, then drifted back against his lips.
“Dr. O’Connor, what are—are you smelling me?”
Ninian smiled against her neck, feeling his fangs descending. He.moved quickly, threading his fingers in her hair and yanking her head back, exposing her thudding carotid artery, and covering her mouth with the other. He whispered in her ear.
“It’s Na Connacht, dear.” He plunged his unsheathed eyeteeth into that beating blood vessel, and he greedily drank her down. Dear Ms. Binford struggled indeed, but it was in vain as streaks and spatters of crimson landed on the pages of his beloved book, immediately absorbed.
It was hungry too.