Succubus (The Executioners Book 1) (Sample)

Chapter 1

Christian peered through a large gap in the metal roof, the edges of which were frayed and torn, as if God's hand had reached out from heaven and ripped it asunder. The interior, a warehouse, appeared to be spacious but almost empty. Almost. Although the large room was devoid of boxes, crates, and other equipment, there was something down below that he could easily make out. Something that didn't belong in a warehouse.

His target: a vampire. To most people, the creature below would have been considered beautiful. Its form carried an elegance that few could match, and its eyes glowed with an otherworldly iridescence. Silvery-blond hair sat almost gently upon its head and pale, nearly translucent skin shone with a brilliant luster in the light of the full moon.

Christian saw no beauty in it. How could something that drank human blood ever be beautiful?

His target wasn't alone. Arrayed in a semicircle stood half a dozen vampires. Their pale, nearly translucence skin shone in the darkness, and their eyes glowed with an otherworldly iridescence: some blue, some black, some red.

One of the vampires spoke. "Greetings, brother." Its voice was rough and coarse, as if it hadn't had anything to drink in days.

Maybe it's fasting. Christian almost snorted at the thought.

"'Tis a grand night, brother," his target replied.

"Were you spotted?"

"No."

"Good. How has thy search gone? Hast thou discovered another delightful treat for us?"

Christian moved silently to better position himself for what was to come. The creatures hadn't noticed him yet—not that he had expected them to. Few abominations ever looked up. He'd slain dozens of foes this way; the ease with which he had taken their lives had been almost laughable.

"I have indeed; a lovely girl who works the closing shift at a small thrift store. She has no family, no friends, and she longs to feel the affection of another. Easy prey. She'll not be missed."

As he mentally prepared himself for his coming task, Christian listened to the almost stereotypical vampire conversation. He really didn't know what it was with this species, but almost all of them spoke like they lived in the sixteenth century. Couldn't their manner of speech be a little more up to date? Even bishops and priests had stopped speaking like bad actors in some Shakespearean play decades ago. The least these vampires could do was give the same courtesy.

I think Tristin is beginning to rub off on me.

"Good, good. What time doth this woman leave work?"

"Eleven in the evening."

"Excellent. Now then, tomorrow we shall―"

Christian had heard enough. After a mental countdown and a quick prayer, he allowed himself to free-fall head first through the hole.

As he dropped, he twisted his body until his feet pointed toward the ground. At the same time, he reached behind him for the two objects on his back: Twin swords, each with a diamond-shaped pommel and a cross-guard shaped like a crucifix with a single ruby in the center. Steel hissed as he pulled his weapons from their sheaths.

He hit the ground with a harsh thud, bone-jarring and forceful enough to make him gasp. He shunted the pain aside and bent his knees to absorb most of the impact, while the rest was absorbed when he pushed himself into a forward roll. He felt his shoulders jolt as he rolled along the ground. Then he leapt to his feet, right in front of his first kill: The vampire that he'd been following.

He had just enough time to see the startled look in his target's eyes before he brought his twin weapons to bear. A flash of light reflected off the surface of his blades as he swung them forward, too quick for human eyes to follow. They traveled in a blurred line, tracing an almost gentle arc horizontally through the air, the movements spellbinding in their grace.