The Vampire's Crimson Kiss (Editing)

Chapter 11/The gift of the shadow's pulse

Victoria's POV

Mary was concluding her unsettling morning lecture on the high priestess: the vampires followed a sinister religion, worshiping a deity called 'The Blood God.' This malevolent god demanded offerings in the form of blood or sinful pleasures. Lust and sex were apparently the primary form of prayer Mary promised me.

Mary had emphasized the great importance of the High Priestess, a figure with the power to incite rebellion and declare my existence an abomination worthy of death. Her role was to protect the purity of the vampire race, and my position depended on her continued permission.

"What else?" Mary continued in her haste to catch up. "Oh yes, the blood god takes offense at many things," Mary continued. "Any one of which could earn you a quick death sentence."

I looked over. "For example?"

"For familiars, not bowing to the undead. Not surrendering themselves for service."

"Or the most heinous act of all, breathing without permission," I winked.

Mary flashed a grin on her bright red lips.

"I'm serious," she added. "The Shadow's pulse... the Crimson brides of the blood god don't take blasphemy lightly. You're not above it. Now, do you want to practice the curtsy again?"

"No, I'm good. Tell me more about the Shadow's pulse. They are the priestesses, right? So who are the Seven Sisters?"

"Well..." Mary began. There was a knock at the door. Mary sprang up to get it.

"Yes, at once, my lady," Mary said, looking out then opening the door.

The door swung open, admitting a wolf-guard who had taken it upon himself to usher in a presence of extraordinary significance.

"Princess Victoria, may I introduce you to Lady Anastasia, the High Priestess of the Blood God," said Mary, lowering her head as she entered.

The woman looked young, her face perfect, her clothing sensual but suggesting some kind of religion I was unfamiliar with. While she looked young, she moved with a regal bearing that suggested someone much older.

My heart quickened, its rhythm echoing in the silence of the room as I beheld the High Priestess's presence. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an eerie tension that sent a shiver down my spine. My breath caught in my throat, and my gaze remained fixed on the ethereal figure before me. After a second, my mind regained some control; it was like standing before a ferocious dog, knowing showing any fear would spur an attack.

I paused. "I'm honored, Your Grace," I said, with a curtsy. The vampires adored all this Victorian formality. I would still feel safer lost  in the forest, carrying a crossbow hunting a bear.

"Lady Anastasia, Princess Victoria of the Barren Lands," Mary continued, her voice trailing off into a respectful whisper, as if the very titles she uttered cast shadows in the dimly lit chamber.

I gestured towards an ancient, ornately carved chair, its dark wood gleaming faintly in the flickering candlelight.

"Please sit down, Lady Anastasia," I said, my smile a painted veneer of pleasantness. As she moved, my mind danced with morbid curiosity, imagining all the ways such a creature could meet her end at my hand.

"So, this is the same girl who was brought in?" High Priestess Anastasia's voice slithered through the air, a silky ribbon of sound that seemed to curl around each word. "You looks quite exquisite now. I had wondered what the Duke had been doing, but now that I see you, I understand. He has quite a powerful eye. To look at the rock but see the diamond inside is quite a gift," she mused, her accent a tantalizing whisper of Eastern Europe, each syllable a seductive echo from ancient lands.