By Myranda Kalis
The top of an Epic It has all ended in this. Myca Vykos, schemer of extended family Tzimisce, is thrust into the battle of Princes as elders of his extended family and the full of the Cainite Heresy come calling. The Nosferatu Malachite, nonetheless trying to restoration Constantinople, is at Vykos's facet, yet can the fiend be depended on to revive the dream of a vampiric utopia? Or does Vykos have accounts of his personal to pay? in regards to the writer Myranda Kalis is the writer of the unconventional darkish a long time: Brujah and a large number of fabric at nighttime a while online game line. Her fiction has additionally seemed in Demon: Lucifer's Shadow.
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Extra resources for Dark Ages Tzimisce (DACN 13) (Dark Ages Clan Novel Series)
Ilias was privately glad that they weren’t playing for more than boasting rights, as she bested him slightly more than half the time. As the night passed, her unease gradually left her, as well, and once or twice he thought he coaxed a real smile and a genuine laugh from her. It was difficult to tell, for her charming manner was the most perfect of her many masks. He observed her closely, but kept his hands to himself. It would be easier to sculpt her likeness into the flesh of another if he had liberty to touch her, to sample the texture of her skin and the shape of her bones, but he rather thought Sir Landric and the lady herself would respond rather poorly to such an act on his part.
Given the violence that Ilias imagined attending his capture, the witch-priest found that apparently peaceful repose odd and disturbing, and avoided looking at Nikita whenever possible. In truth, he had not much time to waste on idle curiosity: the ritual would consume time as well as strength, and the length of the night waned. A fat beeswax candle burned in each quarter of the room, incised with symbols of elemental correspondence, their bases marked with a drop of his blood, the very action of their burning forming the first layer of the invocation.
Myca crossed the room, bent and kissed him quickly. “Have a care, my heart. ” “You and I are of one mind in this, I assure you,” Ilias replied, wryly. “I think I will wear red. ” Myca turned to go. ” The laziness in Ilias’ tone was both tease and warning. Myca paused at the door and glanced back over his shoulder. The cat-smile was still in place, and he was very much reminded of a great golden cat preparing to toy with its dinner. ” “Ah. ” An indolent, fangs-baring smile. “A rite, I think. A girl resides in the larder, who I have been keeping for such an occasion.