Finally finished! ¬ ¬ The lack of time prevented me from finishing it before. It is the first time I translate something so long. Notice that I suffer from dyslexia, despite having reviewed many times each word, there may be a mistake because of this
T_T Anyway, to read it in English, is not it cute Manella? What Vishous as brother? T_T I think the best part is when Payne kills the Bloodletter. I look forward to having the entire book
^ ^ Enjoy!
PS: I'm fixing the translation day, sometimes I go and watch with horror the misconduct: S
FOREWORD
1761, Old Country
Xcor says his father died when had been five years since its transition.
happened before their very eyes, and yet, even with the proximity, could not understand what happened.
The night started like any other, the darkness falling on a landscape of forest and the cave above the clouds cover the moon's light covering and traveling on horseback with him. His group of soldiers were six strong: Thro, zypher, the three cousins, and himself.
And then there was his father ...
The Bloodletter
happened before their very eyes, and yet, even with the proximity, could not understand what happened.
The night started like any other, the darkness falling on a landscape of forest and the cave above the clouds cover the moon's light covering and traveling on horseback with him. His group of soldiers were six strong: Thro, zypher, the three cousins, and himself.
And then there was his father ...
The Bloodletter
Before the Black Dagger Brotherhood
What prompted that afternoon to call the service after the fall of the sun?: They were looking lessers, those omega weapons of souls that had to do with the slaughter of the race of vampires. And they were. Often.
But seven of them were of the Brotherhood.
Contrary to what praised, secret group of warriors, this band of bastards led by Bloodletter were more soldiers, no ceremonies. Without the worship of the civilian population. No science or praise. Their bloodlines could have been aristocratic, but they had been abandoned by their families each born with defects or being born of matings sanctified.
They will never be more than flesh expendable in the larger war for survival.
Everything was true, however, were the elite soldiers, the most cruel and stronger shoulder, which had proven, over time, the main difficult in the race: the father of Xcor.
carefully and choose wisely, these men were deadly against the enemy and without code when it was the vampire society. No code at the time of killing, like this: No matter if the dam was a murderer or human or animal, or wolf. Blood would flow.
had taken a vote and one vote: his father was his master and not another. When he did so, and that was it. Much simpler than the elaborate Brotherhood shit even if it had been a candidate for Xcor bloodline, he had had no interest in being a brother. He cared nothing for the glory, because he had not been a patch on the sweet release of murder. It was better to leave that tradition and ritual, useless waste of those who refused to handle steel, but a black dagger.
he would use any weapon they had.
And his father as well.
The clamor of hooves slowed and then faded into silence, like fighters emerged from the forest and an enclave of oak trees and bushes.
household smoke of origin on the breeze, but there was another confirmation that the small town who had sought had finally submitted: High on a cliff of drilling, a fortified castle established as an eagle, claws its founding as locked in the rock.
human beings. Fighting each other.
How boring.
Yet the building had to be respected. Perhaps if Xcor had been established, and massacred the dynasty would have assumed that fortress. Much more effective to raise poaching.
"To the people, under the command his father - Forward, to entertainment.
The word is that they lessers in this pale beasts mixed and mingled with the villagers who had tilled plots of land and planted stone houses in the shadow of the castle. This was typical of the recruitment strategy of the Company: infiltrate a city, taking over the men one by one, slaughtering and selling women and children, fleeing with weapons and horses, moving to longer following more number. Xcor
mind was similar to the enemy in this respect: After the fight, he always took everything he could, in the way of assets, before out for the next battle.
Night after night the Bloodletter and his soldiers made their way through what the man called England, and came to the tip of the Scottish territory, which in turn, accelerated themselves back down, the south, south, south to the heel of Italy to a forced turn around. And then it was a case of going through many miles yet again. And again. And again.
"We left our supplies here," Xcor pronounced, pointing to a thick tree trunk that had fallen across a stream.
While modest transfer supplies are made, it was nothing more than the creaking sound of leather and studs occasional snoring, when everything was kept on the edge of the falls of oak, which he mounted and assembled his purebred horses, where only things of value were the weapons they possessed. Xcor not see the usefulness of the objects of beauty and comfort, these were nothing more than the weight you were wearing down. A strong horse and a well-balanced knife? That was priceless.
As the seven of them rode to the village, who made no effort to silence the pounding of the hooves of his steed. There were cries of war, however. That was a waste energy, as the enemy needed little invitation to come and say hello.
A welcome as a human being or two peeked outside and quickly locked themselves back into their homes. Xcor ignored them.
Instead, scanned the squat stone houses and the ant at the center of the fortified trading stores in search of a biped that was as pale as a ghost and smelled like a corpse covered with molasses.
His father walked up to him and smiled with a vicious twist.
"Maybe then we will enjoy the fruits of the garden here
"Maybe
Xcor murmured, as his horse shook his head. In truth, I was not interested in bedding women or force people to come forward, but his father was not one who refuses even to the whims of leisure.
With hand signals, Xcor directed three of his band on the left, where there was a small structure with a cross above its roof with two leagues. He and the others could go right. His father would do whatever he wanted. As always.
Forcing stallions to remain in a ride was a task that challenged even the bravest of the arms, but he was used to strip of war and firmly sat in the chair. With grim purpose, his eyes penetrating the shadows cast by the moonlight, looking, investigating.
The group of murderers who gave you a free passage of shelter in the smithy had weapons galore.
-Five-zypher growled. "Bless this night
" Three-Xcor cut it. Two are only human beings, despite still kill the par ... crossing will be happy too.
- What do you take it, my lord? - Your brother in arms, he said, with a deference that he had earned, not granted as part of a birthright.
"Human beings," said Xcor, moving forward and preparing for the time that he gave his horse in the head. "If there are other lessers, that they will get more.
Encouraging
great beast and merging into his chair, smiled restrictors were firm in their chain mail and weapons. The two human beings beside them were not going to remain firm, however. Although the couple was equipped for the fight, they would turn and run in the first flash of fangs, frightening the horses and the plow of a cannon.
What was the reason it took a sharp right to no more than three steps in the canter? Behind the blacksmith's hut, he took the reins transported and launched without his horse. His horse was a wild dog, but was obedient when it came to a clearing and could wait. human
A woman passed the back door, her white nightgown, a bright streak in the dark, as she hurried to find balance in the mud. The moment she saw him, stood still in terror.
logical response: He was twice its size, if not three times as large as not dressed for sleep, like her, but for the war. As he put his hand on the throat, sniffed the air and caught her scent. Mmm, perhaps his father had a point to enjoy the garden ...
While the idea occurred to him, let out a low growl that galvanized his power in an escape from horror, and in view of their flight, the predator came to the fore. With bloodlust curling in her womb, it was recalled that it was a matter of weeks since he had fed a member of its species, and although the girl was not more than human, could be more than enough for tonight.
Unfortunately, there was no time for fun time, but surely his father would take later. If Xcor needed some blood to help the women get from this, or otherwise.
Giving back to the fugitive, planted his feet and drew his weapon of choice: Although they had their daggers, he preferred the scythe, long handled and modified by a sheath tied to his back. He was an expert wielding heavyweight, and smiled while working vicious blade, bent in the wind, waiting to play net for the pair of fish was safe to swim-
Ah, yes, how good it was to be right.
Just then, a bright light and a sound of explosion erupted on the main street, the two humans came screaming from behind the iron, as if they were pursued by the marauders.
They were wrong, did not. Your Prowler was waiting here. Xcor
not shout or curse, or even growled. Was launched to run with the scythe, the weapon balance equally between his two powerful hands and thighs completely eaten away. One look at him and humans saliron boots, waving his arms out for balance as the flutter of wings ducks landing on the water.
braked in time to fall upon them, his favorite weapon on strike in a big circle, capturing both the collar.
Their heads were separated in a single sweep, outright victory, flashing the surprised faces and disappearing as what had been released, was on the front nose, blood, moteando Xcor's chest. In the absence of its head crowns, the lower halves of the body fell to the ground with a curious liquid grace, landing in a turn lifeless limbs.
Now shouted.
the way back, planted his boots Xcor leather in the mud, said in a deep breath and released it in a roar as he worked his scythe in front of him, red steel hungrier. Although his dam had been mere humans, killing fever was better than an orgasm, the sense that he had taken the life and the corpses left behind, poured through him like mead.
Whistling through his teeth, he called successively to his horse, bolted to it in the command. Leap and the chair, his scythe held high in his right hand while he was at the reins with his left. Stimulating
hard, leading the horse gallop, tearing down a narrow road, seeing the dirt, and emerging in the heat of battle.
mates were sons of bitches in full fight mode, clashing swords and shouting, splashing the night like a demon known enemy. Xcor And as predicted, half a dozen more lessers stallions came riding forward on race, empty lions to defend their territory. Xcor
fell on the enemy's advance box, ensuring the reins in your grip, and brandishing his scythe and his horse ran toward the other horses with teeth bared. Black blood and body parts flew when distributed his opponents, he and his horse work as one unit in the attack.
As he picked up another murderer with his sword and cut it in half, at chest height, I knew this was what he was born, to make the best use of your time on earth. He was a murderer, not a defender.
He fought for his race ... but for himself.
It was over all too soon the nocturnal mist swirling around the fallen lessers writhed in pools of blood of black oil. Injuries were few, made by a blade of some sort. And zypher limping, running a red spot on the outside of your leg to cover his boot. None slowed down or showed any concern at all. Xcor
stopped his horse, dismounted, and turned his scythe to its sheath. As he took out his dagger of steel and began to stab around murderers, lamenting the process of sending the enemy to its creator. He wanted to fight, no less-
A belt out his head spun. The human woman in the nightgown was fleeing towards the town of packed dirt road, his body completely clear of a pin, as if it had been purged from a cache. Treading on his heels, Xcor's father was riding his horse, running fast The Bloodletter massive body hanging off the sides of the chair while he went about it. Indeed, race was not high, and in the meantime, flanking him, grabbed her arm and threw her over his lap.
There was no stopping, not even a slowdown after the catch, but there was a marked: With his stallion at full gallop and with the human breaking out, the father of Xcor managed to attack his thin throat with its fangs, blocked the woman's neck as if to embrace it in place by the canines.
And she would have died. No doubt she would have died.
If no Bloodletter was first.
Among the swirling mist, a ghostly figure appeared as if it had been formed by the strands of moisture got into the air. And the moment he saw the ghost Xcor, squinted, and relied on his sharp nose.
seemed to be a woman. Of its kind. Dressed in a white robe. And the smell reminded him of something he could not place.
She went straight into the path of his father, but seemed completely indifferent to the horse or the sadistic warrior would soon come upon her. His father was delighted with it, but at the moment it was set at it dropped to the human woman like nothing more than a lamb bone and who had chewed him out the meat.
"This is wrong, Xcor." In fact, he was a man of action and power, not one to walk away from a member of the fairer sex ... but everything in your body and ethereal body warned that this was dangerous. Mortal.
- Oh, Father! Shouted - Dad turned! Xcor
took his horse, which came in the command. Screwing it into his saddle, spurred his horse's flanks, throwing the head, to cross the path of his father, a panic strange driving it.
He was too late. His father was on women, who had, little by little, put in a squatting position.
Fates, she would jump into the ...
coordinated in a career, she was in the air and caught her father's leg, using it as a way to vault the horse. Then, hooking on Bloodletter solid chest, she jumped to the side and he took it as a male with the ground, the thrust forcefully challenging both their gender and their ghostly nature.
So it was no ghost, but flesh and blood. The
that meant he could be killed.
Xcor While preparing to plow right into them his stallion, she let out a scream that was not at all feminine: More along the lines of their own war cry, the boot cut off by thundering hooves beneath him and the sounds of his band of bastards gathering in celebration to counter this unexpected attack.
However, there was no immediate need to intercede.
His father, above the discharge to be dropped from his chair, rolled onto his back and drew his sword, the grin on his face was like an animal. About curse, Xcor reined in and halted the rescue, because surely his father would take control: The Bloodletter not the kind of male to helping, he was beaten by this to Xcor in the past, that lessons had been force learned and well remembered.
however, got out and was prepared in the periphery in the case of any other of its kind in Valkyri'es and in the middle of the jungle.
why clearly heard her say a name?
-Vishous.
his father's anger changed to a brief confusion. Before he could return to self-defense, she began to glow with what surely was an unholy light.
- Father - Xcor shouted as he ran back.
But it was too late. And we contacted.
The flames burned around his hard father, his bearded face, reaching his corporeal form on dry hay. And with the same grace with which he was shot down, she jumped back and saw that he was frantically searching for a way to beat the fire, to no avail. At night, he shouted while burning alive, your leather clothing with no protection for your skin and muscle.
There was no way to get close enough to the flame, Xcor skidded to a halt, raising his arm to itself and away from heat bending was exponentially hotter than it should have been.
All the while, the female was standing on the retorción, pulling the body ... the flickering orange glow illuminating his face cruel and beautiful.
The dog was smiling.
And that was when she lifted her face toward him. While Xcor had an adequate view of his face, at first refused to believe his eyes. And yet, the glow of the flame, said that was no lie.
He was watching a female version of the Bloodletter. The same black hair and pale skin and blue eyes. bone structure was the same. Moreover, the same light vengeful hearing himself near the violent eyes, ecstasy and the satisfaction of causing death, a combination that Xcor knew well.
She was gone, a moment later, disappearing into the fog in a way that was nothing friendly dematerializing, but rather of a burst of smoke, coming out by inches and then by foot.
As soon as he could, rushed Xcor to his father, but there was nothing to save ... almost nothing to bury. Sinking on his knees before steaming bones and the stench, it had a deplorable moment of weakness: The tears fell from his eyes. The Bloodletter had been a brute, but only with their male offspring as required, Xcor and he had been very close ..
In fact, were among the others.
"Of all that is holy," he said hoarsely zypher - what is that? Xcor
blinked hard before looking over his shoulder. "She killed
" Yes. And something else.
While the band motherfuckers came walking toward him, one by one, Xcor had to think, oh, what to say, what to do.
The increased stiffness in a carrier, wanted to call his sire, but his mouth was too dry to whistle. His father ... long-time nemesis and the base too, was dead. Dead. And it had happened so fast, too fast.
for a woman.
His father was gone.
When he could, looked at each of the men, both on horseback, two on foot, the other to his right. With heavy realization, he knew that was what fate lay ahead, would be determined by what we do at the moment, here and now.
was not ready for this, but he would move away from what to do:
"Hear this now, because I say it, but once. No one will say a word. My father died in battle with the enemy. I burned to honor and to keep me. Swear this now.
sons of bitches who had lived and fought as promised, and then his deep voice went away in the night, Xcor leaned over and ran his fingers through the ashes. Raising his hands to his face marking the soot-streaked cheeks, a thick veins running through both sides of his neck and then patted the hard, bony skull was all that remained of his father. Holding steam, charred remains high, the soldiers claimed their own.
"I am your only Lord now. You will join me at this time or will my enemies. What say all?
There was no hesitation. Males were placed on knees, pulling out their daggers, and bursting into a war cry before burying the blade into the ground at his feet. Xcor
stared at their heads bowed and felt down a blanket on her shoulders.
The Bloodletter was dead. No longer alive, would be a legend from tonight.
And as was just and appropriate, the child came into the soles of his father, commander of the soldiers who serve in Wrath, the king who would not rule, nor the Brotherhood, which did not deign to stoop to this level .. . but Xcor ... Xcor only ...
"Come to the direction from which came the woman, anunció." Let's find it, even if we take centuries, she should pay for what he has done tonight .- Xcor whistled loud and clear to your horse . - I'll take this death personally.
Riding on his horse, picked up the reins and led the great beast into the night, his band of bastards fell in training on their heels, ready to go to death for him.
As thundered out of town, put the skull of his father in his battle leather jacket, right over his heart.
Revenge would be his. Even if they killed him.
But seven of them were of the Brotherhood.
Contrary to what praised, secret group of warriors, this band of bastards led by Bloodletter were more soldiers, no ceremonies. Without the worship of the civilian population. No science or praise. Their bloodlines could have been aristocratic, but they had been abandoned by their families each born with defects or being born of matings sanctified.
They will never be more than flesh expendable in the larger war for survival.
Everything was true, however, were the elite soldiers, the most cruel and stronger shoulder, which had proven, over time, the main difficult in the race: the father of Xcor.
carefully and choose wisely, these men were deadly against the enemy and without code when it was the vampire society. No code at the time of killing, like this: No matter if the dam was a murderer or human or animal, or wolf. Blood would flow.
had taken a vote and one vote: his father was his master and not another. When he did so, and that was it. Much simpler than the elaborate Brotherhood shit even if it had been a candidate for Xcor bloodline, he had had no interest in being a brother. He cared nothing for the glory, because he had not been a patch on the sweet release of murder. It was better to leave that tradition and ritual, useless waste of those who refused to handle steel, but a black dagger.
he would use any weapon they had.
And his father as well.
The clamor of hooves slowed and then faded into silence, like fighters emerged from the forest and an enclave of oak trees and bushes.
household smoke of origin on the breeze, but there was another confirmation that the small town who had sought had finally submitted: High on a cliff of drilling, a fortified castle established as an eagle, claws its founding as locked in the rock.
human beings. Fighting each other.
How boring.
Yet the building had to be respected. Perhaps if Xcor had been established, and massacred the dynasty would have assumed that fortress. Much more effective to raise poaching.
"To the people, under the command his father - Forward, to entertainment.
The word is that they lessers in this pale beasts mixed and mingled with the villagers who had tilled plots of land and planted stone houses in the shadow of the castle. This was typical of the recruitment strategy of the Company: infiltrate a city, taking over the men one by one, slaughtering and selling women and children, fleeing with weapons and horses, moving to longer following more number. Xcor
mind was similar to the enemy in this respect: After the fight, he always took everything he could, in the way of assets, before out for the next battle.
Night after night the Bloodletter and his soldiers made their way through what the man called England, and came to the tip of the Scottish territory, which in turn, accelerated themselves back down, the south, south, south to the heel of Italy to a forced turn around. And then it was a case of going through many miles yet again. And again. And again.
"We left our supplies here," Xcor pronounced, pointing to a thick tree trunk that had fallen across a stream.
While modest transfer supplies are made, it was nothing more than the creaking sound of leather and studs occasional snoring, when everything was kept on the edge of the falls of oak, which he mounted and assembled his purebred horses, where only things of value were the weapons they possessed. Xcor not see the usefulness of the objects of beauty and comfort, these were nothing more than the weight you were wearing down. A strong horse and a well-balanced knife? That was priceless.
As the seven of them rode to the village, who made no effort to silence the pounding of the hooves of his steed. There were cries of war, however. That was a waste energy, as the enemy needed little invitation to come and say hello.
A welcome as a human being or two peeked outside and quickly locked themselves back into their homes. Xcor ignored them.
Instead, scanned the squat stone houses and the ant at the center of the fortified trading stores in search of a biped that was as pale as a ghost and smelled like a corpse covered with molasses.
His father walked up to him and smiled with a vicious twist.
"Maybe then we will enjoy the fruits of the garden here
"Maybe
Xcor murmured, as his horse shook his head. In truth, I was not interested in bedding women or force people to come forward, but his father was not one who refuses even to the whims of leisure.
With hand signals, Xcor directed three of his band on the left, where there was a small structure with a cross above its roof with two leagues. He and the others could go right. His father would do whatever he wanted. As always.
Forcing stallions to remain in a ride was a task that challenged even the bravest of the arms, but he was used to strip of war and firmly sat in the chair. With grim purpose, his eyes penetrating the shadows cast by the moonlight, looking, investigating.
The group of murderers who gave you a free passage of shelter in the smithy had weapons galore.
-Five-zypher growled. "Bless this night
" Three-Xcor cut it. Two are only human beings, despite still kill the par ... crossing will be happy too.
- What do you take it, my lord? - Your brother in arms, he said, with a deference that he had earned, not granted as part of a birthright.
"Human beings," said Xcor, moving forward and preparing for the time that he gave his horse in the head. "If there are other lessers, that they will get more.
Encouraging
great beast and merging into his chair, smiled restrictors were firm in their chain mail and weapons. The two human beings beside them were not going to remain firm, however. Although the couple was equipped for the fight, they would turn and run in the first flash of fangs, frightening the horses and the plow of a cannon.
What was the reason it took a sharp right to no more than three steps in the canter? Behind the blacksmith's hut, he took the reins transported and launched without his horse. His horse was a wild dog, but was obedient when it came to a clearing and could wait. human
A woman passed the back door, her white nightgown, a bright streak in the dark, as she hurried to find balance in the mud. The moment she saw him, stood still in terror.
logical response: He was twice its size, if not three times as large as not dressed for sleep, like her, but for the war. As he put his hand on the throat, sniffed the air and caught her scent. Mmm, perhaps his father had a point to enjoy the garden ...
While the idea occurred to him, let out a low growl that galvanized his power in an escape from horror, and in view of their flight, the predator came to the fore. With bloodlust curling in her womb, it was recalled that it was a matter of weeks since he had fed a member of its species, and although the girl was not more than human, could be more than enough for tonight.
Unfortunately, there was no time for fun time, but surely his father would take later. If Xcor needed some blood to help the women get from this, or otherwise.
Giving back to the fugitive, planted his feet and drew his weapon of choice: Although they had their daggers, he preferred the scythe, long handled and modified by a sheath tied to his back. He was an expert wielding heavyweight, and smiled while working vicious blade, bent in the wind, waiting to play net for the pair of fish was safe to swim-
Ah, yes, how good it was to be right.
Just then, a bright light and a sound of explosion erupted on the main street, the two humans came screaming from behind the iron, as if they were pursued by the marauders.
They were wrong, did not. Your Prowler was waiting here. Xcor
not shout or curse, or even growled. Was launched to run with the scythe, the weapon balance equally between his two powerful hands and thighs completely eaten away. One look at him and humans saliron boots, waving his arms out for balance as the flutter of wings ducks landing on the water.
braked in time to fall upon them, his favorite weapon on strike in a big circle, capturing both the collar.
Their heads were separated in a single sweep, outright victory, flashing the surprised faces and disappearing as what had been released, was on the front nose, blood, moteando Xcor's chest. In the absence of its head crowns, the lower halves of the body fell to the ground with a curious liquid grace, landing in a turn lifeless limbs.
Now shouted.
the way back, planted his boots Xcor leather in the mud, said in a deep breath and released it in a roar as he worked his scythe in front of him, red steel hungrier. Although his dam had been mere humans, killing fever was better than an orgasm, the sense that he had taken the life and the corpses left behind, poured through him like mead.
Whistling through his teeth, he called successively to his horse, bolted to it in the command. Leap and the chair, his scythe held high in his right hand while he was at the reins with his left. Stimulating
hard, leading the horse gallop, tearing down a narrow road, seeing the dirt, and emerging in the heat of battle.
mates were sons of bitches in full fight mode, clashing swords and shouting, splashing the night like a demon known enemy. Xcor And as predicted, half a dozen more lessers stallions came riding forward on race, empty lions to defend their territory. Xcor
fell on the enemy's advance box, ensuring the reins in your grip, and brandishing his scythe and his horse ran toward the other horses with teeth bared. Black blood and body parts flew when distributed his opponents, he and his horse work as one unit in the attack.
As he picked up another murderer with his sword and cut it in half, at chest height, I knew this was what he was born, to make the best use of your time on earth. He was a murderer, not a defender.
He fought for his race ... but for himself.
It was over all too soon the nocturnal mist swirling around the fallen lessers writhed in pools of blood of black oil. Injuries were few, made by a blade of some sort. And zypher limping, running a red spot on the outside of your leg to cover his boot. None slowed down or showed any concern at all. Xcor
stopped his horse, dismounted, and turned his scythe to its sheath. As he took out his dagger of steel and began to stab around murderers, lamenting the process of sending the enemy to its creator. He wanted to fight, no less-
A belt out his head spun. The human woman in the nightgown was fleeing towards the town of packed dirt road, his body completely clear of a pin, as if it had been purged from a cache. Treading on his heels, Xcor's father was riding his horse, running fast The Bloodletter massive body hanging off the sides of the chair while he went about it. Indeed, race was not high, and in the meantime, flanking him, grabbed her arm and threw her over his lap.
There was no stopping, not even a slowdown after the catch, but there was a marked: With his stallion at full gallop and with the human breaking out, the father of Xcor managed to attack his thin throat with its fangs, blocked the woman's neck as if to embrace it in place by the canines.
And she would have died. No doubt she would have died.
If no Bloodletter was first.
Among the swirling mist, a ghostly figure appeared as if it had been formed by the strands of moisture got into the air. And the moment he saw the ghost Xcor, squinted, and relied on his sharp nose.
seemed to be a woman. Of its kind. Dressed in a white robe. And the smell reminded him of something he could not place.
She went straight into the path of his father, but seemed completely indifferent to the horse or the sadistic warrior would soon come upon her. His father was delighted with it, but at the moment it was set at it dropped to the human woman like nothing more than a lamb bone and who had chewed him out the meat.
"This is wrong, Xcor." In fact, he was a man of action and power, not one to walk away from a member of the fairer sex ... but everything in your body and ethereal body warned that this was dangerous. Mortal.
- Oh, Father! Shouted - Dad turned! Xcor
took his horse, which came in the command. Screwing it into his saddle, spurred his horse's flanks, throwing the head, to cross the path of his father, a panic strange driving it.
He was too late. His father was on women, who had, little by little, put in a squatting position.
Fates, she would jump into the ...
coordinated in a career, she was in the air and caught her father's leg, using it as a way to vault the horse. Then, hooking on Bloodletter solid chest, she jumped to the side and he took it as a male with the ground, the thrust forcefully challenging both their gender and their ghostly nature.
So it was no ghost, but flesh and blood. The
that meant he could be killed.
Xcor While preparing to plow right into them his stallion, she let out a scream that was not at all feminine: More along the lines of their own war cry, the boot cut off by thundering hooves beneath him and the sounds of his band of bastards gathering in celebration to counter this unexpected attack.
However, there was no immediate need to intercede.
His father, above the discharge to be dropped from his chair, rolled onto his back and drew his sword, the grin on his face was like an animal. About curse, Xcor reined in and halted the rescue, because surely his father would take control: The Bloodletter not the kind of male to helping, he was beaten by this to Xcor in the past, that lessons had been force learned and well remembered.
however, got out and was prepared in the periphery in the case of any other of its kind in Valkyri'es and in the middle of the jungle.
why clearly heard her say a name?
-Vishous.
his father's anger changed to a brief confusion. Before he could return to self-defense, she began to glow with what surely was an unholy light.
- Father - Xcor shouted as he ran back.
But it was too late. And we contacted.
The flames burned around his hard father, his bearded face, reaching his corporeal form on dry hay. And with the same grace with which he was shot down, she jumped back and saw that he was frantically searching for a way to beat the fire, to no avail. At night, he shouted while burning alive, your leather clothing with no protection for your skin and muscle.
There was no way to get close enough to the flame, Xcor skidded to a halt, raising his arm to itself and away from heat bending was exponentially hotter than it should have been.
All the while, the female was standing on the retorción, pulling the body ... the flickering orange glow illuminating his face cruel and beautiful.
The dog was smiling.
And that was when she lifted her face toward him. While Xcor had an adequate view of his face, at first refused to believe his eyes. And yet, the glow of the flame, said that was no lie.
He was watching a female version of the Bloodletter. The same black hair and pale skin and blue eyes. bone structure was the same. Moreover, the same light vengeful hearing himself near the violent eyes, ecstasy and the satisfaction of causing death, a combination that Xcor knew well.
She was gone, a moment later, disappearing into the fog in a way that was nothing friendly dematerializing, but rather of a burst of smoke, coming out by inches and then by foot.
As soon as he could, rushed Xcor to his father, but there was nothing to save ... almost nothing to bury. Sinking on his knees before steaming bones and the stench, it had a deplorable moment of weakness: The tears fell from his eyes. The Bloodletter had been a brute, but only with their male offspring as required, Xcor and he had been very close ..
In fact, were among the others.
"Of all that is holy," he said hoarsely zypher - what is that? Xcor
blinked hard before looking over his shoulder. "She killed
" Yes. And something else.
While the band motherfuckers came walking toward him, one by one, Xcor had to think, oh, what to say, what to do.
The increased stiffness in a carrier, wanted to call his sire, but his mouth was too dry to whistle. His father ... long-time nemesis and the base too, was dead. Dead. And it had happened so fast, too fast.
for a woman.
His father was gone.
When he could, looked at each of the men, both on horseback, two on foot, the other to his right. With heavy realization, he knew that was what fate lay ahead, would be determined by what we do at the moment, here and now.
was not ready for this, but he would move away from what to do:
"Hear this now, because I say it, but once. No one will say a word. My father died in battle with the enemy. I burned to honor and to keep me. Swear this now.
sons of bitches who had lived and fought as promised, and then his deep voice went away in the night, Xcor leaned over and ran his fingers through the ashes. Raising his hands to his face marking the soot-streaked cheeks, a thick veins running through both sides of his neck and then patted the hard, bony skull was all that remained of his father. Holding steam, charred remains high, the soldiers claimed their own.
"I am your only Lord now. You will join me at this time or will my enemies. What say all?
There was no hesitation. Males were placed on knees, pulling out their daggers, and bursting into a war cry before burying the blade into the ground at his feet. Xcor
stared at their heads bowed and felt down a blanket on her shoulders.
The Bloodletter was dead. No longer alive, would be a legend from tonight.
And as was just and appropriate, the child came into the soles of his father, commander of the soldiers who serve in Wrath, the king who would not rule, nor the Brotherhood, which did not deign to stoop to this level .. . but Xcor ... Xcor only ...
"Come to the direction from which came the woman, anunció." Let's find it, even if we take centuries, she should pay for what he has done tonight .- Xcor whistled loud and clear to your horse . - I'll take this death personally.
Riding on his horse, picked up the reins and led the great beast into the night, his band of bastards fell in training on their heels, ready to go to death for him.
As thundered out of town, put the skull of his father in his battle leather jacket, right over his heart.
Revenge would be his. Even if they killed him.
One
Present Day, Aqueduct Race, Queens, New York
"I fly.
Dr. Manny Manella turned his head to see who was right and looked at the woman who had spoken to him. It was not the first time I had heard that combination of words, and mouth the words that came out was probably filled with silicone to provide a good mattress. But it was still a surprise.
Candace Hanson smiled and adjusted his hat, Jackie O, with a well-kept hand. Apparently she had decided that the combination of a lewd woman was attractive and perhaps it was for some guys.
Hell, in another moment of your life, probably would have taken, as to why - hell, was not "theory. Now? The file you downloaded too.
Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, he leaned forward, blinking at a set of breasts that defy both gravity, the insult to his mother, and pee in your shoes. "I know where we go.
He bet she would. "The race is about to start
She pouted. Or maybe it was just the way her lips had after injection. God, a decade ago that he had probably a fresh face, now amounting to a year patina of desperation in it, along with the normal aging process, wrinkles with which she fought like a boxer.
"Later, then.
Manny walked away without answering, without knowing exactly how she had gotten into porpietarios section. It must have been in their desire to return here to saddle in the paddock and certainly was used to get into places that technically was not allowed Candace was not one of those types of social Manhattan was not far from a pimp be a prostitute, and in many ways, she was like any other wasp ignoring aches and going to land on something else.
Or someone else, so to speak. Put
arm to keep it closer, Manny leaned on the railing of the box which was the owner and waited for his girlfriend out to the track. She was placed on the outside, and was well: she would rather not be in the package, and a little more distance he had never bothered.
The Aqueduct in Queens, New York, was not quite at the level of prestige of Belmont and Pimlico, or the venerable mother of the race track, Churchill Downs. There was a dog shit, however. The facility had a good mile and eighth in the dirt, and both a lawn and a short course.
total capacity of ninety thousand parishes. The food was meh, but nobody was there to eat, and there were some great races, like today: the Wood Memorial was at stake was a purse of $ 750,000 and was held in April, was a good benchmark for Triple Crown contenders
Oh, yes, there she was. There was her child.
While Manny's eyes were locked in GloryGloryHallelujah, the crowd noise and the bright light of day and short line of the other horses were lost. All I saw was a magnificent black filly, shelter catch the sun and flashing with super skinny legs flexing, curling delicate hooves on the dirt track and replanted. With her almost seventeen hands high, the horseman was a tiny mosquito pretzel in the back, and the difference in size was representative of the division of powers. She had it made clear from the first day of training: You may have to tolerate those pesky little humans, but they just gave a long walk.
She was in charge.
dominant His temperament had already cost two coaches.
"The third was at this time? Man was looking a little frustrated, but that was only his sense of control I was getting hoofed to death: Gloria times were pending, had nothing to do with him. And Manny was summarily without worrying about inflated egos of men who sent their horses around the life.
The girl was a fighter, and she knew what she was doing, and had no problems to let her go and see the fun that buried the competition.
When her eyes were with her, he remembered the cup that he had bought a little over a year. The 20 major had been a robbery, given his lineage, but also was a fortune for his temperament and the fact that it was clear that she would be able to get your card to compete. It had been a year-old rebel about to get the bench or, worse, would subsequently become dog food.
But he had been right. Subject to turn his head and let it run the program, which was spectacular.
When the sign went to the door, some of the horses began to shine on the toe, but the girl was firm as a rock, as if he knew he had no sense in wasting your energy on this crap before party. And he really liked his chances, despite its pole position as the rider on his back was a star: He knew exactly how to handle it, and give respect, so that was more responsible for their success coaches. His philosophy with her was just to make sure he saw all the best routes out of the pack and then she chose and out.
Manny stood up and gripped the iron railing in front of him painted by joining the crowd as crest of the seats and opened a number of binoculars. As his heart began pounding, was glad, because out of the gym, had been almost established, lately. Life had taken a terrible numbness with her in the last year or so, and maybe that was part of the reason that this filly was so important to him.
Maybe it was all I had, too.
was that he was not there.
At the door, it was a case to move it, move it, move it: When it comes to things very nervous fifteen horses with legs like toothpicks and adrenal glands which fired shells, as in tiny metal boxes, that will not leave waste time. Within a minute or so, the camp was closed and his hands were fast track by the rails.
Heartbeat.
Bell.
Bang!
The doors opened and the crowd roared and the horses were thrown forward as if they had been taken out of cannons. The conditions were perfect. Seco. Well. The track was fast.
was not that his girlfriend would mind. She would have run into quicksand if you had to.
Thoroughbreds thundering from the sound of their collective helmets and the driving rhythm of the speaker's voice to beat the energy in the stands in a field of ecstasy. Manny stayed calm, however, keeping his hands locked on the rail in front of him and his eyes on the field they turned on the first corner in a tight knot on his back and tail.
The big screen showed him everything he needed to see. His horse was the second to last, all galloping as the rest of them were in a dead race hood, neck was not even fully extended. His rider, however, was doing his job, providing out of the lane, giving you the option to run for the far side of the herd or cut through it when I was ready.
Manny knew exactly what he was doing. She was going to plow right through of the other horses as a wrecking ball.
That was his style.
And indeed, emerged from the straight away, started to catch fire. Their advantage came down, his neck elongated and began to stretch its passage.
"Hell," Manny whispered. "You'll do, girl.
While Gloria went into the flooded field, becoming a lightning ahead of other runners, was not enough to beat them all, but I had to do in the last half mile, blowing the frames of the sons of bitches in last possible moment. Manny
burst laughed deep in his throat. She was his type of woman.
Christ, Manella, see how it goes.
Manny nodded without looking at the man who had spoken in the ear, because a game changer in the head of the pack was being developed: The colt that was in place he lost his monument, losing ground when his legs were out of gas. In response, the rider stopped him, whipping his ass, he had all the success of someone cursing at a car whose tank was on E, the second foal, a big chestnut with a bad attitude and a step as long as a football field, was immediately seized of the slowdown, leaving his rider this horse were to the head.
The couple went to the couple for just a second before the chestnut took control of the race. But it would not be for long. Manny The girl had chosen his moment to weave among a knot of three horses and get on your ass tighter than a bumper sticker
Yes, Gloria was in his element, ears flat against his head, showing teeth.
She would eat his lunch of shit. And it was impossible to extrapolate the first Saturday in May and the Kentucky Derby
all happened so fast.
all came to an end ... in a blink of an eye.
deliberate In a side impact, the colt hit Gloria, the brutal impact of the shipping lane. Your child was big and strong, but she was no match for control of the body like that, when he was forty miles per hour.
For a moment, Manny was convinced she would be replenished. Despite the way it came out and rolled around, he expects her to find balance and will teach that bastard a lesson in manners rebel.
Unless she fell. Right in front of three horses happened.
The carnage was immediate, turning horses extensively to avoid the obstacle in its path, breaking his career riders tight curl hoping to hold onto their mounts.
Everyone did. Except Gloria.
As the crowd cried out, Manny was thrown forward, popping on limits of the box and then jumping over people and chairs and barricades until they reached the track itself.
On the rail. On earth.
ran toward her, his years of athletics led him at breakneck speed in the light heartbreaking
She was trying to get up. Blessed his big heart, strong, he was struggling to rise from the ground, his eyes fixed on the package or not give a shit be hurt, she just wanted to catch up with those who had left in the dust.
Tragically, his front leg had other plans for her: As she struggled, failing to be cast below the knee, and Manny did not need his years as an orthopedic surgeon to know that she was in trouble.
A big problem.
As he approached her, his rider was crying.
-Dr. Manella, I've tried, oh, God! ... Manny
slid into the ground and rushed over as veterinarians and the screen showed all the drama.
As the three men in uniform approached her, his eyes began to go mad with grief and confusion. Manny did what he could to calm her head to stretch as much as she wanted, stroking her neck. And what made it easy when he was shot with a tranquilizer.
At least the desperate left limping.
The chief vet looked at her leg and shook head. What in the world of racing was the universal language: She has to be sacrificed. Manny
Gió to the guy's face. "Do not even think about it. Stabilizes the fracture and Derival to TriCounty, at this time. Understand?
"She will never run again, this looks like a multi ...
"Take my horse shit out of this track and TriCounty
-not worth
Manny grabbed the front of the jacket of a veterinarian, and pulled Mr. easily and put near your nose .- Do it, now.
was a moment of total incomprehension, being mistreated was new to the brat.
And two of them was very clear, Manny growled, "I'm not going to lose, but I'm more than willing to let you down. Here. Right now.
The vet shrugged, as if he knew he was in danger of getting to smell and taste of cork, a beating. "Okay ... okay.
Manny was not about to lose his horse. In the last twelve months, which had mourned the only woman he had been concerned, questioned his sanity, and set out to drink whiskey, although he had always hated the shit.
Dr. Manny Manella turned his head to see who was right and looked at the woman who had spoken to him. It was not the first time I had heard that combination of words, and mouth the words that came out was probably filled with silicone to provide a good mattress. But it was still a surprise.
Candace Hanson smiled and adjusted his hat, Jackie O, with a well-kept hand. Apparently she had decided that the combination of a lewd woman was attractive and perhaps it was for some guys.
Hell, in another moment of your life, probably would have taken, as to why - hell, was not "theory. Now? The file you downloaded too.
Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, he leaned forward, blinking at a set of breasts that defy both gravity, the insult to his mother, and pee in your shoes. "I know where we go.
He bet she would. "The race is about to start
She pouted. Or maybe it was just the way her lips had after injection. God, a decade ago that he had probably a fresh face, now amounting to a year patina of desperation in it, along with the normal aging process, wrinkles with which she fought like a boxer.
"Later, then.
Manny walked away without answering, without knowing exactly how she had gotten into porpietarios section. It must have been in their desire to return here to saddle in the paddock and certainly was used to get into places that technically was not allowed Candace was not one of those types of social Manhattan was not far from a pimp be a prostitute, and in many ways, she was like any other wasp ignoring aches and going to land on something else.
Or someone else, so to speak. Put
arm to keep it closer, Manny leaned on the railing of the box which was the owner and waited for his girlfriend out to the track. She was placed on the outside, and was well: she would rather not be in the package, and a little more distance he had never bothered.
The Aqueduct in Queens, New York, was not quite at the level of prestige of Belmont and Pimlico, or the venerable mother of the race track, Churchill Downs. There was a dog shit, however. The facility had a good mile and eighth in the dirt, and both a lawn and a short course.
total capacity of ninety thousand parishes. The food was meh, but nobody was there to eat, and there were some great races, like today: the Wood Memorial was at stake was a purse of $ 750,000 and was held in April, was a good benchmark for Triple Crown contenders
Oh, yes, there she was. There was her child.
While Manny's eyes were locked in GloryGloryHallelujah, the crowd noise and the bright light of day and short line of the other horses were lost. All I saw was a magnificent black filly, shelter catch the sun and flashing with super skinny legs flexing, curling delicate hooves on the dirt track and replanted. With her almost seventeen hands high, the horseman was a tiny mosquito pretzel in the back, and the difference in size was representative of the division of powers. She had it made clear from the first day of training: You may have to tolerate those pesky little humans, but they just gave a long walk.
She was in charge.
dominant His temperament had already cost two coaches.
"The third was at this time? Man was looking a little frustrated, but that was only his sense of control I was getting hoofed to death: Gloria times were pending, had nothing to do with him. And Manny was summarily without worrying about inflated egos of men who sent their horses around the life.
The girl was a fighter, and she knew what she was doing, and had no problems to let her go and see the fun that buried the competition.
When her eyes were with her, he remembered the cup that he had bought a little over a year. The 20 major had been a robbery, given his lineage, but also was a fortune for his temperament and the fact that it was clear that she would be able to get your card to compete. It had been a year-old rebel about to get the bench or, worse, would subsequently become dog food.
But he had been right. Subject to turn his head and let it run the program, which was spectacular.
When the sign went to the door, some of the horses began to shine on the toe, but the girl was firm as a rock, as if he knew he had no sense in wasting your energy on this crap before party. And he really liked his chances, despite its pole position as the rider on his back was a star: He knew exactly how to handle it, and give respect, so that was more responsible for their success coaches. His philosophy with her was just to make sure he saw all the best routes out of the pack and then she chose and out.
Manny stood up and gripped the iron railing in front of him painted by joining the crowd as crest of the seats and opened a number of binoculars. As his heart began pounding, was glad, because out of the gym, had been almost established, lately. Life had taken a terrible numbness with her in the last year or so, and maybe that was part of the reason that this filly was so important to him.
Maybe it was all I had, too.
was that he was not there.
At the door, it was a case to move it, move it, move it: When it comes to things very nervous fifteen horses with legs like toothpicks and adrenal glands which fired shells, as in tiny metal boxes, that will not leave waste time. Within a minute or so, the camp was closed and his hands were fast track by the rails.
Heartbeat.
Bell.
Bang!
The doors opened and the crowd roared and the horses were thrown forward as if they had been taken out of cannons. The conditions were perfect. Seco. Well. The track was fast.
was not that his girlfriend would mind. She would have run into quicksand if you had to.
Thoroughbreds thundering from the sound of their collective helmets and the driving rhythm of the speaker's voice to beat the energy in the stands in a field of ecstasy. Manny stayed calm, however, keeping his hands locked on the rail in front of him and his eyes on the field they turned on the first corner in a tight knot on his back and tail.
The big screen showed him everything he needed to see. His horse was the second to last, all galloping as the rest of them were in a dead race hood, neck was not even fully extended. His rider, however, was doing his job, providing out of the lane, giving you the option to run for the far side of the herd or cut through it when I was ready.
Manny knew exactly what he was doing. She was going to plow right through of the other horses as a wrecking ball.
That was his style.
And indeed, emerged from the straight away, started to catch fire. Their advantage came down, his neck elongated and began to stretch its passage.
"Hell," Manny whispered. "You'll do, girl.
While Gloria went into the flooded field, becoming a lightning ahead of other runners, was not enough to beat them all, but I had to do in the last half mile, blowing the frames of the sons of bitches in last possible moment. Manny
burst laughed deep in his throat. She was his type of woman.
Christ, Manella, see how it goes.
Manny nodded without looking at the man who had spoken in the ear, because a game changer in the head of the pack was being developed: The colt that was in place he lost his monument, losing ground when his legs were out of gas. In response, the rider stopped him, whipping his ass, he had all the success of someone cursing at a car whose tank was on E, the second foal, a big chestnut with a bad attitude and a step as long as a football field, was immediately seized of the slowdown, leaving his rider this horse were to the head.
The couple went to the couple for just a second before the chestnut took control of the race. But it would not be for long. Manny The girl had chosen his moment to weave among a knot of three horses and get on your ass tighter than a bumper sticker
Yes, Gloria was in his element, ears flat against his head, showing teeth.
She would eat his lunch of shit. And it was impossible to extrapolate the first Saturday in May and the Kentucky Derby
all happened so fast.
all came to an end ... in a blink of an eye.
deliberate In a side impact, the colt hit Gloria, the brutal impact of the shipping lane. Your child was big and strong, but she was no match for control of the body like that, when he was forty miles per hour.
For a moment, Manny was convinced she would be replenished. Despite the way it came out and rolled around, he expects her to find balance and will teach that bastard a lesson in manners rebel.
Unless she fell. Right in front of three horses happened.
The carnage was immediate, turning horses extensively to avoid the obstacle in its path, breaking his career riders tight curl hoping to hold onto their mounts.
Everyone did. Except Gloria.
As the crowd cried out, Manny was thrown forward, popping on limits of the box and then jumping over people and chairs and barricades until they reached the track itself.
On the rail. On earth.
ran toward her, his years of athletics led him at breakneck speed in the light heartbreaking
She was trying to get up. Blessed his big heart, strong, he was struggling to rise from the ground, his eyes fixed on the package or not give a shit be hurt, she just wanted to catch up with those who had left in the dust.
Tragically, his front leg had other plans for her: As she struggled, failing to be cast below the knee, and Manny did not need his years as an orthopedic surgeon to know that she was in trouble.
A big problem.
As he approached her, his rider was crying.
-Dr. Manella, I've tried, oh, God! ... Manny
slid into the ground and rushed over as veterinarians and the screen showed all the drama.
As the three men in uniform approached her, his eyes began to go mad with grief and confusion. Manny did what he could to calm her head to stretch as much as she wanted, stroking her neck. And what made it easy when he was shot with a tranquilizer.
At least the desperate left limping.
The chief vet looked at her leg and shook head. What in the world of racing was the universal language: She has to be sacrificed. Manny
Gió to the guy's face. "Do not even think about it. Stabilizes the fracture and Derival to TriCounty, at this time. Understand?
"She will never run again, this looks like a multi ...
"Take my horse shit out of this track and TriCounty
-not worth
Manny grabbed the front of the jacket of a veterinarian, and pulled Mr. easily and put near your nose .- Do it, now.
was a moment of total incomprehension, being mistreated was new to the brat.
And two of them was very clear, Manny growled, "I'm not going to lose, but I'm more than willing to let you down. Here. Right now.
The vet shrugged, as if he knew he was in danger of getting to smell and taste of cork, a beating. "Okay ... okay.
Manny was not about to lose his horse. In the last twelve months, which had mourned the only woman he had been concerned, questioned his sanity, and set out to drink whiskey, although he had always hated the shit.
DOS
Caldwell, Training Center, New York, Complex Brotherhood
Damn ... Bic ... piece of shit ...
Vishous was in the hallway outside the medical clinic of the Brotherhood with a hand-rolled on the lips and a thumb that was getting a fucking great workout. No calls to talk, however, no matter how many times masturbating little lighter wheel.
Chic.Chic.Chic
In total disgust, he starts the POS in a bin and is covered by the glove that covered his hand. Ripping free leather, stared burning his hand, flexing the fingers, arching the wrist.
The thing was partly flamethrower in part nuclear bomb, capable of melting any metal, turning the stone into glass, and making a kebab of any airplane, train or car at will. It was also the reason I could make love to your shell, and one of the two legacies to his deity's mother had given him.
And Gee whiz, the shit of second sight was so funny as this routine hand-or-death.
Bringing deadly weapon to his face, put the end of the hand-rolling nearby, but not too close or he inmolaría its nicotine delivery system and would have to make another.
Not that he had patience for a good day, and certainly not at a time like this
Ah, lovely inhalation.
Leaning against the wall, planted his shitkickers on the linoleum and smoked. The coffin nail did little if any of the pilgrims, but gave him something to do, which was better than the other option that had been running through his head during the last two hours. He put the glove in place, wanted to take her "gift" and burn anything ...
"was her twin sister, honestly, on the other side of this wall? "Lying in a hospital bed ... paralyzed?
Jesus Christ ... 300 years old and learns she has a sister.
Good move, Mom. Damn, really nice.
think that he had assumed that he had worked on all their problems with their parents. Moreover, only one of them had died. If the Scribe Virgin could go the way of the Bloodletter and kicking, he might go even level achieved
As things stood now, however, the last of this exclusive six-page, coupled with the futile search of Jane out into the human world alone, he did ...
Yes, there were no words on it.
pulled out his cell phone. Checked. Put back in the pocket of skin.
Damn, that was so typical. Jane got her focus on what this was. Nothing else mattered.
Not that this was exactly the same way, but at times like this, you had to see some updates.
demon sun. Trapping him inside. At least if with its shell, there was no chance of that "great" Manuel Manella oh-me-not-what-I-. V knockearía just the son of a bitch, and throw the body in the Escalade, and bring the talented hands to operate Payne here.
In his mind, free will was a privilege, not a right.
When he reached the tail end of the hand-wheels, stabbed him in the sole of his shitkicker and threw the butt away. He wanted a drink, desperately than soda or water. Half of a Grey Goose just take off the edge, but with a little luck would be helping in the operating room and had to be brief sober.
Making his way into the exam room, her shoulders tightened, his teeth closed, and at a fraction of a second, did not know how else could take. If there was one thing he could guarantee was that his mother would throw a faster one, and it was difficult to worsen the lie of all lies.
The problem was that life came with a "lean" by default to stop the fun and games, like his pinball machine and was difficult to compound the lie of all lies.
-Vishous?
closed his eyes briefly with the sound of her voice soft and low. "Yes, Payne. Changing the Old Language, concluded, "" Tis I. -
Crossing towards the center of the room, returned to his position on the stool beside the bed stock. Lying on a number of blankets, Payne was immobilized block head and a neck brace that ran from the chin to the clavicle. An IV attached to his arm in a bag hanging from a stainless steel pole and a tube below the probe Ehlen had given him.
Although the tiled room was lit, clean and bright, and medical equipment and supplies were as threatening as cups and plates in a kitchen he felt as if the pair of them were in a dirty cave surrounded by grizzly bears.
much better if I could go out and kill the bastard who had put his sister in this condition. The problem was ... that would mean I'd have to blow up Wrath, and what buzz kill here!. That big bastard was not only the king, was a brother ... and there was the little detail of what had happened had been consensuado.Las training sessions were held both oscillate in the past two months had been kept secret and, of course, Wrath had no idea who he had been fighting because the man was blind. That she was a woman? Well, duh. He had been on the other side and there were no men there. But the lack of sight of the king that he had omitted to V and all others, had been watching, at any time they had entered this room:
's long black braid lel Payne was true that the hair color V, and his skin was the same color as yours, and its structure was equal to his, long, thin and strong. But the eyes ... shit eyes.
V rubbed his face. His father, Bloodletter, had a number of sons of bitches before he was killed in a minor skirmish of lessers, in the old country. But V does not consider any of these arbitrary relations females.
Payne was different. They both had the same mother, and not just any Mahmed dear. It was the Scribe Virgin. The mother of all race.
The dog it was.
changed Payne's eyes and breathing became tight V. The iris was found with white ice, like yours, and navy blue border around them was something I saw every night in the mirror. And the intelligence ... intelligence in the depths of the Arctic were exactly what I was cooking under the dome of bone, too.
"I can not feel anything," said Payne.
"I know. - Shaking repeats - I know.
His mouth twisted as if he could smile in other circumstances .- You can speak any language you want, "he said in accented English. - I am fluent in ..
many It was. Which meant he was unable to form a response in sixteen different languages. Come on it.
- have you heard ... in your shell? - said hesitantly.
-No. Would you like to get more medication for pain? - She seemed weaker than when he had left.
"No, thanks. ... They make me feel weird.
This followed a long silence.
That was eternal.
And yet.
Christ, maybe I should take her hand, after all, I felt above the waist. Yes, but what would be offered in the department of the palm? His left hand trembled and his right was mortal.
-Vishous, time is not ...
Like its twin, the sentence drift, finished your mind ... on our side.
Man, he lamented that she was right. When it came to the spinal injury, however, like strokes and heart attacks, opportunities are lost with each minute that passes in which the patient received no treatment.
human That would be as bright as Jane had said.
- Vishous?
- Yes?
- Do you desire that I had not come here?
The strongly frowned. - What the hell are you talking about? Por supuesto que te quiero junto a mí
A medida que su pie consiguió el toque, se preguntó cuánto tiempo tendría que quedarse antes de que pudiera salir para otro cigarrillo. Simplemente no podía respirar mientras estaba sentado aquí, sin poder hacer nada mientras que su hermana sufría, y su cerebro se emocionó con sus preguntas. Él tenía diez mil qués y por qués sentados en la parte superior de la cabeza, sólo que no podía preguntarlas. Payne tenía el aspecto de que podría caer en un estado de coma en cualquier momento del dolor, así que no había tiempo para reuniones fraternas .
Mierda, los vampiros podían cured at lightning speed, but they were not immortal by any extension.
He may well lose its twin before even getting to know.
In that sense, he gave for looking-check your vital signs monitor. The race had low blood pressure to begin with, but it was moving near ground level. The pulse was slow and uneven, like a drum section consists of white men. And the oxygen sensor had to be silenced because the warning alarm had been going on continuously.
While she had her eyes closed, he was concerned that was the last time, and what he had done for her? Everything but scream when she asked him a question.
leaned closer, feel like an idiot. "You have to put up here, Payne. I'm getting what you need, but you have to endure. TThe
covers her sister she rose and looked at his head still. "I brought too much on your door.
"Do not worry about me.
That's all I've ever done.
V frowned again. It was obvious that this brother / sister was a news flash just in their end, and had to wonder how, by a demon, she knew it.
And what he knew.
Shit, here was another chance to wish it was vanilla.
- Are you sure about this healer you're looking for? - Muttered.
Ah, not really. All that was certain was that if the bastard was killed this turn into a double funeral tonight, if you got something from human to bury or burn.
- Vishous?
"My shellan trust him.
Payne's eyes went up and stayed there. Was looking at the ceiling? , He wondered. Does the test lamp hanging over it? Something that he could not see?
Finally, he said, - Ask me how long I've been calling our mother.
- Sure you have the strength for it? - When she looked at him almost angrily, he tried to smile. How long?
- What year is this for the Earth? - When he said, his eyes widened. "Indeed. Well, have spent hundreds of years. I was imprisoned by our Mahmed by ... hundreds of years.
Vishous felt the tip of its fangs tickling rage. This mother of ... he knew he had found peace with the woman would not last. "You're free now.
"I am He looked down at his legs. "I can not live in another prison.
-No.
Now that grew icy look clever "I can not live like this. Do you understand what I mean?
Inside he remained quite cold, "Listen, I'm going to look for the doctor here y. ..
-Vishous , "he said hoarsely. "Indeed, I would if I could, but I can not, and I have no one else to turn. Do you understand?
When their eyes met, he wanted to scream, strung her stomach, the sweat soaking his forehead. He was a murderer by nature and training, but that was not a skill set that he had intended to practice in his own blood. Well, except his mother, of course. Perhaps his father, except that the man had died by his own account.
Well, Amendment: no, it was something he would never do to his sister.
-Vishous. Will you?
"Yes. He looked at his bloody hand and flexed damn fucking work. "I will.
Deep inside your skin, in its essence, its internal sequence began vibrating. It was the kind of things that had been intimately familiar most of his life as well as a complete shock. I had not had this feeling since Jane and Butch had come long ago, and now, back ... another slice of "Jódeme."
In the past, this was taken seriously outside the rails in the land of hard-core sex and fucking dangerous, over the edge.
At the speed of sound.
Payne's voice was thready. - What you say?
Damn, just know it.
"Yes. Mortal hand flexed. "I take care of you. If it comes to that.
While Payne was looking at the cage of his body-lead, dark profile of her twin sister was all I could see, and she is despised by the position he had puesto.Había while since he had come on this side, trying to figure out another way, another option, another ... anything.
But what she needed was just something I could ask of a stranger.
Moreover, was a stranger.
"Thank you" Brother.
Vishous just nodded again and resumed staring at the front. In person, he was much more than the sum of your facial features and the sheer size of the body. Before she had been imprisoned by her Mahmed, she had seen for a long time in the tops of the chosen sacred and had known the moment he had appeared in the shallow water for her who he was, all he had had to do was look at him and see themselves.
That life he had led. Starting with the field of war and the brutality of his father ... and now this.
And under cold composure, was furious. I could feel in their bones, some link between them was to see beyond what your eyes will tell you: On the surface, he picked up a brick wall, its components were made all in order and put in place. Into your skin, however, he boiled ... and the foreign key was the right hand glove. From beneath its base, a bright light shined ... and would, ever brighter. Especially after she asked him what was wrong.
This may be your only time together, she realized, with moist eyes again.
- Are you connected to the female healer? "He murmured.
"Yes.
When there was only silence, wanted to participate, but it was clear he had answered only by courtesy. And yet, she believed him when he said he was glad of their presence here. He was not the type liar, not that he cared for the moral or courtesy, as such, but rather because he saw the effort as a waste of time and desire.
Payne's eyes rested again to the bright ring of fire hanging overhead. Wanted him to take his hand or touch her in any way, but she had asked for too much longer.
Resting on the slab rolling, his body was feeling bad, heavy and weightless at the same time, and his only hope was that the spasms that knocked his legs and tickled on her feet, making them shake. Surely not all was lost, if it happened that, he said.
Except when she took refuge under that thought, a very small, quiet of his mind told him that the cognitive ceiling was trying to build not stand the rain that hung over what was left of his life: When moved their hands but could not see them, I could feel the cold plate, soft and smooth cooling table where conectada.Pero when she was told her feet to do the same ... it was like being in calm waters, warm bathing pools on the Other Side, as a cocoon in an invisible embrace, feeling nothing against him.
Where was this healer?
Time ... happened.
As the wait was unbearable and downright agonizing, it was difficult to know whether the choking sensation in his throat came from their condition or the stillness of the room. In truth, she and her sister were equally steeped in the stillness, only for very different reasons: She was not going anywhere with alacrity. He was on the verge of an explosion. Something
desperate for some encouragement ... anything, he whispered, "Tell me about the healer to come.
The cold that hit his face and the smell of spices crossed the dark tunnel of his nose told him that it was a male. Had to be.
"It's better," murmured Vishous. "Jane always spoke of him as a god.
The tone was. rather. less than complimentary, but in fact, males vampire did not appreciate the other persuasion around their women.
Who could be in the race? he asked. The healer who had seen Payne in the bowls was Havers. And surely there would have been no reason to look?
Maybe there was another who had not seen. After all, she had spent a lot of time to catch up with the world, and according to her sister, had spent many, many, many years between his imprisonment and freedom, as was ...
In a sudden wave, depletion cut your thought process, seep into your bone, pulling even heavier on the metal table.
However, when he closed his eyes, he could endure the darkness for just a moment before bursting into panic and open their eyelids. While his mother had held in suspended animation, was too aware of his surroundings in white, and boundless slowly, spraying time and minutes. This paralysis was too similar to what had been for hundreds of years.
And that was the reason for your request Vishous terrible. She could not come to this side just to play something of what had been so desperate to escape.
The tears dripped on his vision, making the bright light wavered.
How he wished his brother hold her hand.
"Please do not cry," said Vishous "Do not cry ...
Indeed, she was surprised that he noticed. - Actually, you're right. Mourn not cure anything.
standing firm in his resolution, forced himself to be strong, but this was a battle. Although his knowledge of the arts of medicine was limited, the simple logic explained in detail what was against it: as she was a remarkably strong lineage, his body had begun to repair itself when it had been wounded while fighting with the King Blind. The problem was, however, the process of regeneration that usually save his life, his state was doing more and more serious and likely, this would be permanent.
spines had been broken and repair them itself, probably not achieve a result well-ordered, and the paralysis of her legs was testimony to the fact.
- Why do you keep your hand protected? He asked, still staring into the light.
There was a moment of silence. Above all else .- Why do you think?
Payne sighed. "Because I know you, my brother. I know all about you.
When he said no more, the silence was as sociable as I would have been in the old country.
Oh, what things she would have to put in place?
And where were going to be all when it came to an end?
Vishous was in the hallway outside the medical clinic of the Brotherhood with a hand-rolled on the lips and a thumb that was getting a fucking great workout. No calls to talk, however, no matter how many times masturbating little lighter wheel.
Chic.Chic.Chic
In total disgust, he starts the POS in a bin and is covered by the glove that covered his hand. Ripping free leather, stared burning his hand, flexing the fingers, arching the wrist.
The thing was partly flamethrower in part nuclear bomb, capable of melting any metal, turning the stone into glass, and making a kebab of any airplane, train or car at will. It was also the reason I could make love to your shell, and one of the two legacies to his deity's mother had given him.
And Gee whiz, the shit of second sight was so funny as this routine hand-or-death.
Bringing deadly weapon to his face, put the end of the hand-rolling nearby, but not too close or he inmolaría its nicotine delivery system and would have to make another.
Not that he had patience for a good day, and certainly not at a time like this
Ah, lovely inhalation.
Leaning against the wall, planted his shitkickers on the linoleum and smoked. The coffin nail did little if any of the pilgrims, but gave him something to do, which was better than the other option that had been running through his head during the last two hours. He put the glove in place, wanted to take her "gift" and burn anything ...
"was her twin sister, honestly, on the other side of this wall? "Lying in a hospital bed ... paralyzed?
Jesus Christ ... 300 years old and learns she has a sister.
Good move, Mom. Damn, really nice.
think that he had assumed that he had worked on all their problems with their parents. Moreover, only one of them had died. If the Scribe Virgin could go the way of the Bloodletter and kicking, he might go even level achieved
As things stood now, however, the last of this exclusive six-page, coupled with the futile search of Jane out into the human world alone, he did ...
Yes, there were no words on it.
pulled out his cell phone. Checked. Put back in the pocket of skin.
Damn, that was so typical. Jane got her focus on what this was. Nothing else mattered.
Not that this was exactly the same way, but at times like this, you had to see some updates.
demon sun. Trapping him inside. At least if with its shell, there was no chance of that "great" Manuel Manella oh-me-not-what-I-. V knockearía just the son of a bitch, and throw the body in the Escalade, and bring the talented hands to operate Payne here.
In his mind, free will was a privilege, not a right.
When he reached the tail end of the hand-wheels, stabbed him in the sole of his shitkicker and threw the butt away. He wanted a drink, desperately than soda or water. Half of a Grey Goose just take off the edge, but with a little luck would be helping in the operating room and had to be brief sober.
Making his way into the exam room, her shoulders tightened, his teeth closed, and at a fraction of a second, did not know how else could take. If there was one thing he could guarantee was that his mother would throw a faster one, and it was difficult to worsen the lie of all lies.
The problem was that life came with a "lean" by default to stop the fun and games, like his pinball machine and was difficult to compound the lie of all lies.
-Vishous?
closed his eyes briefly with the sound of her voice soft and low. "Yes, Payne. Changing the Old Language, concluded, "" Tis I. -
Crossing towards the center of the room, returned to his position on the stool beside the bed stock. Lying on a number of blankets, Payne was immobilized block head and a neck brace that ran from the chin to the clavicle. An IV attached to his arm in a bag hanging from a stainless steel pole and a tube below the probe Ehlen had given him.
Although the tiled room was lit, clean and bright, and medical equipment and supplies were as threatening as cups and plates in a kitchen he felt as if the pair of them were in a dirty cave surrounded by grizzly bears.
much better if I could go out and kill the bastard who had put his sister in this condition. The problem was ... that would mean I'd have to blow up Wrath, and what buzz kill here!. That big bastard was not only the king, was a brother ... and there was the little detail of what had happened had been consensuado.Las training sessions were held both oscillate in the past two months had been kept secret and, of course, Wrath had no idea who he had been fighting because the man was blind. That she was a woman? Well, duh. He had been on the other side and there were no men there. But the lack of sight of the king that he had omitted to V and all others, had been watching, at any time they had entered this room:
's long black braid lel Payne was true that the hair color V, and his skin was the same color as yours, and its structure was equal to his, long, thin and strong. But the eyes ... shit eyes.
V rubbed his face. His father, Bloodletter, had a number of sons of bitches before he was killed in a minor skirmish of lessers, in the old country. But V does not consider any of these arbitrary relations females.
Payne was different. They both had the same mother, and not just any Mahmed dear. It was the Scribe Virgin. The mother of all race.
The dog it was.
changed Payne's eyes and breathing became tight V. The iris was found with white ice, like yours, and navy blue border around them was something I saw every night in the mirror. And the intelligence ... intelligence in the depths of the Arctic were exactly what I was cooking under the dome of bone, too.
"I can not feel anything," said Payne.
"I know. - Shaking repeats - I know.
His mouth twisted as if he could smile in other circumstances .- You can speak any language you want, "he said in accented English. - I am fluent in ..
many It was. Which meant he was unable to form a response in sixteen different languages. Come on it.
- have you heard ... in your shell? - said hesitantly.
-No. Would you like to get more medication for pain? - She seemed weaker than when he had left.
"No, thanks. ... They make me feel weird.
This followed a long silence.
That was eternal.
And yet.
Christ, maybe I should take her hand, after all, I felt above the waist. Yes, but what would be offered in the department of the palm? His left hand trembled and his right was mortal.
-Vishous, time is not ...
Like its twin, the sentence drift, finished your mind ... on our side.
Man, he lamented that she was right. When it came to the spinal injury, however, like strokes and heart attacks, opportunities are lost with each minute that passes in which the patient received no treatment.
human That would be as bright as Jane had said.
- Vishous?
- Yes?
- Do you desire that I had not come here?
The strongly frowned. - What the hell are you talking about? Por supuesto que te quiero junto a mí
A medida que su pie consiguió el toque, se preguntó cuánto tiempo tendría que quedarse antes de que pudiera salir para otro cigarrillo. Simplemente no podía respirar mientras estaba sentado aquí, sin poder hacer nada mientras que su hermana sufría, y su cerebro se emocionó con sus preguntas. Él tenía diez mil qués y por qués sentados en la parte superior de la cabeza, sólo que no podía preguntarlas. Payne tenía el aspecto de que podría caer en un estado de coma en cualquier momento del dolor, así que no había tiempo para reuniones fraternas .
Mierda, los vampiros podían cured at lightning speed, but they were not immortal by any extension.
He may well lose its twin before even getting to know.
In that sense, he gave for looking-check your vital signs monitor. The race had low blood pressure to begin with, but it was moving near ground level. The pulse was slow and uneven, like a drum section consists of white men. And the oxygen sensor had to be silenced because the warning alarm had been going on continuously.
While she had her eyes closed, he was concerned that was the last time, and what he had done for her? Everything but scream when she asked him a question.
leaned closer, feel like an idiot. "You have to put up here, Payne. I'm getting what you need, but you have to endure. TThe
covers her sister she rose and looked at his head still. "I brought too much on your door.
"Do not worry about me.
That's all I've ever done.
V frowned again. It was obvious that this brother / sister was a news flash just in their end, and had to wonder how, by a demon, she knew it.
And what he knew.
Shit, here was another chance to wish it was vanilla.
- Are you sure about this healer you're looking for? - Muttered.
Ah, not really. All that was certain was that if the bastard was killed this turn into a double funeral tonight, if you got something from human to bury or burn.
- Vishous?
"My shellan trust him.
Payne's eyes went up and stayed there. Was looking at the ceiling? , He wondered. Does the test lamp hanging over it? Something that he could not see?
Finally, he said, - Ask me how long I've been calling our mother.
- Sure you have the strength for it? - When she looked at him almost angrily, he tried to smile. How long?
- What year is this for the Earth? - When he said, his eyes widened. "Indeed. Well, have spent hundreds of years. I was imprisoned by our Mahmed by ... hundreds of years.
Vishous felt the tip of its fangs tickling rage. This mother of ... he knew he had found peace with the woman would not last. "You're free now.
"I am He looked down at his legs. "I can not live in another prison.
-No.
Now that grew icy look clever "I can not live like this. Do you understand what I mean?
Inside he remained quite cold, "Listen, I'm going to look for the doctor here y. ..
-Vishous , "he said hoarsely. "Indeed, I would if I could, but I can not, and I have no one else to turn. Do you understand?
When their eyes met, he wanted to scream, strung her stomach, the sweat soaking his forehead. He was a murderer by nature and training, but that was not a skill set that he had intended to practice in his own blood. Well, except his mother, of course. Perhaps his father, except that the man had died by his own account.
Well, Amendment: no, it was something he would never do to his sister.
-Vishous. Will you?
"Yes. He looked at his bloody hand and flexed damn fucking work. "I will.
Deep inside your skin, in its essence, its internal sequence began vibrating. It was the kind of things that had been intimately familiar most of his life as well as a complete shock. I had not had this feeling since Jane and Butch had come long ago, and now, back ... another slice of "Jódeme."
In the past, this was taken seriously outside the rails in the land of hard-core sex and fucking dangerous, over the edge.
At the speed of sound.
Payne's voice was thready. - What you say?
Damn, just know it.
"Yes. Mortal hand flexed. "I take care of you. If it comes to that.
While Payne was looking at the cage of his body-lead, dark profile of her twin sister was all I could see, and she is despised by the position he had puesto.Había while since he had come on this side, trying to figure out another way, another option, another ... anything.
But what she needed was just something I could ask of a stranger.
Moreover, was a stranger.
"Thank you" Brother.
Vishous just nodded again and resumed staring at the front. In person, he was much more than the sum of your facial features and the sheer size of the body. Before she had been imprisoned by her Mahmed, she had seen for a long time in the tops of the chosen sacred and had known the moment he had appeared in the shallow water for her who he was, all he had had to do was look at him and see themselves.
That life he had led. Starting with the field of war and the brutality of his father ... and now this.
And under cold composure, was furious. I could feel in their bones, some link between them was to see beyond what your eyes will tell you: On the surface, he picked up a brick wall, its components were made all in order and put in place. Into your skin, however, he boiled ... and the foreign key was the right hand glove. From beneath its base, a bright light shined ... and would, ever brighter. Especially after she asked him what was wrong.
This may be your only time together, she realized, with moist eyes again.
- Are you connected to the female healer? "He murmured.
"Yes.
When there was only silence, wanted to participate, but it was clear he had answered only by courtesy. And yet, she believed him when he said he was glad of their presence here. He was not the type liar, not that he cared for the moral or courtesy, as such, but rather because he saw the effort as a waste of time and desire.
Payne's eyes rested again to the bright ring of fire hanging overhead. Wanted him to take his hand or touch her in any way, but she had asked for too much longer.
Resting on the slab rolling, his body was feeling bad, heavy and weightless at the same time, and his only hope was that the spasms that knocked his legs and tickled on her feet, making them shake. Surely not all was lost, if it happened that, he said.
Except when she took refuge under that thought, a very small, quiet of his mind told him that the cognitive ceiling was trying to build not stand the rain that hung over what was left of his life: When moved their hands but could not see them, I could feel the cold plate, soft and smooth cooling table where conectada.Pero when she was told her feet to do the same ... it was like being in calm waters, warm bathing pools on the Other Side, as a cocoon in an invisible embrace, feeling nothing against him.
Where was this healer?
Time ... happened.
As the wait was unbearable and downright agonizing, it was difficult to know whether the choking sensation in his throat came from their condition or the stillness of the room. In truth, she and her sister were equally steeped in the stillness, only for very different reasons: She was not going anywhere with alacrity. He was on the verge of an explosion. Something
desperate for some encouragement ... anything, he whispered, "Tell me about the healer to come.
The cold that hit his face and the smell of spices crossed the dark tunnel of his nose told him that it was a male. Had to be.
"It's better," murmured Vishous. "Jane always spoke of him as a god.
The tone was. rather. less than complimentary, but in fact, males vampire did not appreciate the other persuasion around their women.
Who could be in the race? he asked. The healer who had seen Payne in the bowls was Havers. And surely there would have been no reason to look?
Maybe there was another who had not seen. After all, she had spent a lot of time to catch up with the world, and according to her sister, had spent many, many, many years between his imprisonment and freedom, as was ...
In a sudden wave, depletion cut your thought process, seep into your bone, pulling even heavier on the metal table.
However, when he closed his eyes, he could endure the darkness for just a moment before bursting into panic and open their eyelids. While his mother had held in suspended animation, was too aware of his surroundings in white, and boundless slowly, spraying time and minutes. This paralysis was too similar to what had been for hundreds of years.
And that was the reason for your request Vishous terrible. She could not come to this side just to play something of what had been so desperate to escape.
The tears dripped on his vision, making the bright light wavered.
How he wished his brother hold her hand.
"Please do not cry," said Vishous "Do not cry ...
Indeed, she was surprised that he noticed. - Actually, you're right. Mourn not cure anything.
standing firm in his resolution, forced himself to be strong, but this was a battle. Although his knowledge of the arts of medicine was limited, the simple logic explained in detail what was against it: as she was a remarkably strong lineage, his body had begun to repair itself when it had been wounded while fighting with the King Blind. The problem was, however, the process of regeneration that usually save his life, his state was doing more and more serious and likely, this would be permanent.
spines had been broken and repair them itself, probably not achieve a result well-ordered, and the paralysis of her legs was testimony to the fact.
- Why do you keep your hand protected? He asked, still staring into the light.
There was a moment of silence. Above all else .- Why do you think?
Payne sighed. "Because I know you, my brother. I know all about you.
When he said no more, the silence was as sociable as I would have been in the old country.
Oh, what things she would have to put in place?
And where were going to be all when it came to an end?
Chapter III
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