Love is Darkness

prologue

Prologue

Prague, Czech Republic

15 years ago

He wasn't God.

Although there had been a handful of yearsbetween his ascendancy to the throne and the killing of the Others,where he may as well have been. The world had not only responded tohis whims but feared them.

He wasn't Death.

He'd created death, given death, even takendeath away by making someone immortal. But death had never come forhim.

Time to rethink that one.

He supposed it was fitting that he would dielike Gaius. Lucas, a 900 year old, vampire 'upstart', had walkedstraight up to him and cut off his head without Gaius even blinkingin protest. One swing of his sword, a clearing of ash and he hadtaken the throne.

Gaius had sat there for weeks, staring atnothing like a mindless fool, until Lucas had decided it wasenough, that faded glory and reverence only lasted for so long.

But now death was stalking him, sinkingclaws into him slowly and sweetly so that he barely noticed. Did itmatter? Did he care? If he went back into that catatonic state andnever came out again, would it be so bad?

He shuffled memories like a deck of cards inhis mind, turning over static pictures of his life: himselflaughing, despairing, fighting, even fucking. Events that shouldprompt vividly colored reactions, yet all he felt was gray.

From birth he had known his death would bein battle, fighting for something with all his heart. And that'show he knew he wasn't death. Because death knew what he wanted andwas able to keep it well out of reach.

The sound of wild masculine laughter floatedup the stairs to his room and Lucas returned to himself quickly,his heart thundering loudly as it sped up, momentarily blotting outthe sound from below. His heartbeat calmed and he blinked, thick,dark lashes shuttering his pale blue eyes. There was a rustle ofsilk outside the door; Marion was coming.

He'd sired her centuries ago. She knockedand he bid her to enter. Almost quivering with agitation she wentdown on one knee, head bowed modestly.

"My King, Roberto hasreturned from the New World. I would ask that you come to see him,if it pleases you."

A thread of excitement weaved through herwords. She was uncommonly tall, almost six feet, and painfullythin, her features sharp and harsh. Marion's hair was a vividauburn, her eyes forest green. She looked just as she had ateighteen, the year she had died and become a vampire. But centuriesof hard living, dissipation and unhappiness had hardened her,leaving their mark upon her frailness so that her vitality was abrittle mask.

Lucas stood and went down the stairs, thevampire guards straightening as he passed with Marion at his heelslike a vengeful spaniel. The New World she called it, as thoughshe'd never heard of the United States of America.

He looked at thegrandfather clock as he passed, noting that it was now the30th and he'd been inward for... twentyone days. Was itpossible? His hands tightened into fistsand he felt a pang of worry that the episodes were gettinglonger.

In the entryway to the great hall, Lucas andMarion came to a halt, taking in the tableau before them. The roomwas almost empty and dimly lit. A vaulted ceiling was highover-head, the beams dark with age. A gigantic limestone fireplacedominated one wall, necessary to generate enough warmth for theroom which could easily seat two hundred people for dinner.

Roberto was standing on a table, walkingheel to toe in a careful process like he was drunk. He begansinging, a soft song in Spanish.

"What did you do?" Lucas'voice was deep and deceptively calm as he eyed the vampire up anddown before pulling out a chair from the dining room table andsitting, crossing his legs casually as he studiedRoberto.