Read The Immortals After Dark Lothaire Online, Read Page 38 of The Immortals After Dark Lothaire, Free Novels Online, Read Book Online, Listen . Everyone in the Lore knew Lothaire was on the brink; no one knew how close he was. Most of the time, he had difficulty discerning his victims’ memories from his. Lothaire – Immortals After Dark #12 – Kresley Cole. The Lore – Immortal creatures from folklore such as vampires, Lykae, Valkyrie, ghouls.

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Now lust seethed inside him. Ignore it, Saroya will rise soon enough. And when she did, he’d touch her, taste her. Explore her daro curves. Behold madness in a vampire. Everyone in the Lore knew Lothaire was on the brink; no one knew how close he was. Most of the time, he had difficulty discerning his victims’ memories from his own.

When he lorhaire, he uncontrollably traced to strange locales, as if sleepwalking. With increasing frequency, he’d been overwhelmed by rages. Saroya the Soul Reaper is the goddess of death and blood, the Vampire Horde’s ancient deity. His last vark had been calculated-Declan Chase, his jailer. The man would know where the Ring of Sums had been taken. Lothaire needed only to sleep to experience Chase’s memories in dreams.

Elizabeth put her hands to her knees, panting her breaths. That’s why the curtains are drawn so tight. Sweet Jesus preserve me. His gaze locked on it, hunger racking him. He’d been injured repeatedly. Surely that was the only reason why he wanted so badly to sample her.

Not because the scent of her blood was exquisite. He ran his tongue over one, savoring the spike of his own blood. He hadn’t allowed himself a taste of her before.

Her blood would serve no purpose, might put him over the edge. But gods, its call was irresistible. He was behind her in an instant, one arm looped around her waist. With his free hand, he fisted the length of her shining hair and yanked her head to the side.

Her pulse fluttered before his eyes. He raked a fang down the golden skin of her neck, cutting a shallow length, blood gently pooling. Scores of women-and men-had enjoyed his bloodtaking. It made them hunger, made them cling to him as if they wanted to sacrifice themselves on his fangs. The idea made him harden even more. He dipped his head, mouth closing over the fine wound. When his tongue touched a drop of blood, his body jerked as if lightning-struck.


He licked the seam again and again, wanting to roar when she began trembling, her resistance easing. She leaned into him, ,othaire back pressed against his aching shaft.

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When he snatched her tighter still and ground it against her, she moaned. Yet just when he’d widened his jaw to pierce her neck for more, she began fighting again. After a long moment, her eyes opened, narrowed; then her palm shot up to crack across his cheek. I’ll play with your spleen before the night is through.

I’ve missed you too. When Saroya drew back her hand to strike Lothaire’s smirking face again, his expression turned deadly. Lothaire was a notorious killer, and as long as she was trapped in this mortal shell, Saroya was vulnerable. Though her spirit would continue on after this human’s death, just as it always did, this was the body she wanted. Saroya was determined to keep. Of course he’d changed little, frozen for all time into this immortal form. affter

He was at least six and a half feet tall, lean but muscled. His features were flawless, gold stubble covering his wide, masculine jaw and strong cleft chin. His pale collar-length hair was thick and straight-now stained with blood. Without waiting for me?

She scanned her surroundings, finding them scarcely better. The area was decorated with a subtle flair, rich colors and fabrics of obvious expense, but it was uncluttered-aside from a pile of smashed marble and various shattered vases. Saroya preferred flashy ornamentation, the elegance of a tomb filled with sacrifices to her, piled high with flesh trophies and bones. As if she needed him to tell her that. She glanced down at her arm, at a drying track of red. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Lothairee a lie arose, a vampire would feel the rana, the burn, a scalding sensation in his throat. She reached up and brushed the nick with her fingertips. Twenty thousand years of my memories will undoubtedly send you over the edge,” she said. Was there a subtle flush on his face? As for Elizabeth’s-I believe I can handle twenty-four human years.


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Too shaming to be borne! For such a paltry number of deaths? In the past, she’d reaped souls from her kills, each victim providing her strength. She’d been a true vampire.

Now she stole lives solely for pleasure. That talisman was steeped in power. You’re to become a vampire like me. Female vampires could only be born-never made. Though vampiric blood could potentially transform human males into vampires, a mortal female like Elizabeth would never survive the turning.

She almost felt like smiling-which she never did. Then her satisfaction dimmed.

Along with its owner. No matter how zealously Saroya had sought Dorada’s death, her assassins could immortzls deliver it. Even gods tread carefully with Dorada. Especially the evil ones. He’d survived a confrontation? Unless you killed her? If the ring could make one a god, then Dorada would have commanded it to do so. I believe we are bound to the realm of immottals immortals. They imprisoned me and confiscated it. She was tempted to disbelieve such a story-few in the Lore were as formidable as Lothaire-but he couldn’t speak untruths.

Many other warriors from the Lore were captured as well. But I will steal the ring back. I depart tomorrow night, once you are settled. And once we have. He narrowed his eyes. Consider the sorceress as good as dead. I can’t say for certain,” he said. He knows how to find the ring, and I can tap his memories through my dreams.

Have already seen some.

The scratch on her neck drew her attention. Would it heal before she was made into a vampire? Once this body became immortal, it would be frozen forever-its appearance dagk. Lothaire traced to stand behind her. She scrutinized her figure. Had Elizabeth lost weight?

Saroya had resigned herself to her new short frame-mere inches over five feet-but she couldn’t accept this leanness. She recalled one of the few times she’d risen in that fetid jail. She’d read Elizabeth’s journal, noting that the mortal “worked out” every day in her cell.