Twilight Memories by Maggie shayne EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Maggie shayne
- Language: English
- Genre: Vampire Thrillers
- Format: PDF/EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
He moved as one of the shadows beneath the overhung roofs, along the
twisting, narrow streets. He detested the fact that he was here, walking
among them. Some passed so near he could have touched them, simply by
raising a hand. He felt the heat of their bodies, saw the steam of their warm
breaths in the chill night air. He felt the blood pulsing beneath their skin,
and heard the rapid, healthy patter of their hearts. He felt like a wolf
slinking silently among timid rabbits. With his preternatural strength he
could kill any of them without taxing himself. It frightened him to know he
was capable of doing just that, if pushed.
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For an instant, murky images of the distant past clouded his vision. Air
heavy with dust and the scents of sweat and blood. Fallen men, like autumn
leaves upon the damp, brown earth. Hooves thundering as the riderless
horses fled in a hundred directions. One man, a boy, in truth, remained
breathing. The lowly squire in ill-fitting armor sat high upon a magnificent,
sooty destrier. The horse pawed the ground with a forefoot and blew, eager
for more. Only silence came in answer. The silence of death, for it
surrounded them.
The young Roland saw the blood-coated broadsword, the crimson tears,
dripping slowly from its tip. As the red haze of fury began to fade, he let the
weapon fall from his grasp. Stomach lurching, he tugged the steel helmet
from his head, then the mail coif, and tossed both to the ground. Aghast, he
stared at the carnage, too sickened just then to be thankful their faces were
hidden by helmets, their wounds covered by their armor.
The boy felt no elation at what he’d done. No, not even later, when he
was personally knighted by King Louis VII, for heroism and valor. He felt
nothing but a grim and disgusting new self-knowledge.
For he had enjoyed the killing.
Roland shook himself. Now was no time for remembrances, or regrets.
He reminded himself that despite his likening of them to rabbits, some
humans were capable of ultimate deceit and treachery. Past experience had
taught him that. And if the report he’d just had from the States were true,
one of those humans, more treacherous than any, might even be a few yards
from him. It was that possibility that had drawn Roland into the village
tonight, in spite of his self-imposed solitude.
His plan was simple. He would slip unnoticed through the medievalstyle streets of L’Ombre, and into the inn called Le Requin.
He would
listen, and he would watch. He’d scan their thinly veiled minds and he’d
find the interloper, if, indeed, there was one to be found. And then he’d deal
with it.
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