Retribution, Devotion by Kai Leakes Page B

reap the benefits of soul and blood feeding. Clearly, this was not acceptable and could never occur.
    They all had worked long and hard for this right to aid in the war. The Fall served a purpose and the many dark seeds they planted through the Bite and soul pollutions helped keep their side well fed. It also kept the Dark Lord very satisfied in his plans for the massive end. So, no, they could not afford to lose even one battle or the scales would tip forever in the favor of the Light and right now, with how the Earth plane appeared, chaos ruled and all was good for the Cursed.
    Nydia leaned into the table to comment for her mistress but was immediately interrupted by the pitter-patter of small feet and a sinister light giggle. Her oak-colored eyes narrowed in contempt. He has brought in additional reinforcements, the bastard! Digging her nails into the hard surface of the table with another on the blade hidden against her inner thigh, she kept her eyes on her Mistress, who also was seething in fury.
    The quick shift of the energy in the air had the council becoming stoic in their demeanor due to the chortle that danced around the chambers.
    â€œValac, come from the shadows, child,” the King amusingly replied, his eyes gleaming with malicious gratification.
    The jovial, pleased snicker continued. The persisting pitter-patter of small feet in a shattering pattern echoed around them until they halted at the entry of an ebon shadow emerging next to the Mad King’s chair. Lord Valac, also known as Brandon, was a package of immaculate evil, born in the body of a five-year-old. The slight tilt of his little face made Nydia notice how his buttery toffee skin casted an unnatural ethereal radiance. His soft, plump cheeks and black low-cut hair accented his almond-shaped pitiless, ominous eyes. He was the epitome of cuteness cloaked in sinister evil. A little Damien from The Omen.
    Brandon was the fallen incarnate of Valac: a Nephilim child meant to be a vessel for the Light due to being gifted with the ability to control Dragons and heal, but who was now turned by the Dark Bite to do the Mad King’s bidding. Nydia had heard from her soldiers that he had traveled to the child’s birth home of Oakland, then to Tibet, where the boy and a strange book were being hidden by relatives.
    The Mad King’s will was supreme. He simply plucked the boy-child from his parents’ blood-drained Light-desecrated lifeless hands with ease. He had destroyed all to get to the child and personally ordered the Cursed Bite to be given by his right hand, Jacques Fur’I, one of the mid-ranking Original Fallen who was chosen to watch over the Cursed Society as the Mad King’s liaison. Nydia couldn’t stand that bastard. Disdain coated her tongue, made her nails cut into the flesh of her palms, drawing blood, and soured her belly.
    â€œBrandon, have you been wicked, my boy?” the Mad King asked.
    Brandon’s soft sneer made the Mad King pick him up in amusement to rest him upon his lap. Nydia watched him tilt the boy’s chin up to stare him in his ebon dark chocolate eyes.
    â€œYes, Unkie. Yes. Yes. Yes. See! Blood.” Shifting suddenly, Brandon pulled out a half blood-spattered ashen white wing from the shadows.
    Ruby drippings decorated the floor while he and the King laughed. “A Nephilim scribe wing. This is satisfactory. Very satisfactory. Where is your father, child?”
    Brandon’s soul-snatching chocolate eyes flashed a reptilian red with a glance toward her Mistress; well, behind her actually. The familiar rich, spicy scent of malevolence and the hint of something else she could never make out made her watch in contempt.
    â€œMy King.” The silky bass of Jacques’s voice washed over everyone.
    Nydia glanced at her mistress and only she could see the sensual effect it was having on the Dark Princess. Reina’s knuckles were subtly brushing against the lush lips of the man Nydia