We’re back with Teaser Tuesday! Why? Well, War of Nytefall: Savagery is on the way and it’s time to get some hype going. Let’s start with the very beginning of the newest volume, which gives us a big look at the new baddie. Also, an older baddie isn’t starting off in the best position.
Groaning as she regains consciousness, Desirae Duvall struggles to remember how many days she has been a prisoner. She gives up counting as a sudden pain ripples along her arms, which are impossible for her to move. Without any light, the Dawn Fang cannot see what the state of her underground lair is or if she is alone. Faint outlines of tables come into view as her sapphire eyes adjust to the dust-infused darkness. The elven Dawn Fang breathes a sigh of relief when she assumes that her captor has not yet returned from his latest outing. A squeak of fright bursts from her throat when she cranes her neck and sees a suit of armor over her shoulder. Even in the darkness, the sight of the demonic helmet sends a chill through Desirae’s aching body. Her throat tightens as the sensation gathers in the pit of her stomach and threatens to turn into a roiling nausea. Slightly leaning forward, she realizes that her long, brown hair has been tied to the armor, which will topple over if she moves her head any further. The longer she stares, the more she can see a faint glow coming from the gaps in the joints. Fear grips the vampire’s heart to the point where the organ stops and she prays to every god of Windemere that she will pass out before her captor’s return. The silent words turn into curses when the torches around the chamber ignite in response to someone having descended into the lair. For the first time, she notices that all of her rubbery limbs have been stretched to the four corners of the room and tied into knots to prevent her from escaping.
The man’s muscular frame makes it impossible for him to get through the narrow entry shaft, so Desirae keeps her eyes on the door that he always enters from. Having never seen inside what used to be her bedroom, she can only assume that he has created his own tunnel from a hidden location. Her wandering mind abruptly locks on the opening door, which echoes loud enough to startle a mouse back into its burrow. Muscular and massive, the hunter walks into the room without making a noise and drops a sack on the nearest table. His flaxen hair is wild and messy, but he shows no interest in making himself look presentable. Taking a seat, he pulls four fangs out of his pocket and plucks the more unruly strands from his head to tie the new trophies to his chainmail shirt. Desirae holds her breath as she watches her captor’s meticulous movements, her mind imagining what fate is waiting for her when he tires of the torture. For a brief moment, she wonders if she can seduce the deadly mortal, but memories of her last attempt cause her to twitch and try to cross her legs in discomfort.
To the Dawn Fang’s surprise, the man begins taking cooked meats and decanters of fresh water out of his sack. With her estimate of it being four days since her capture, she considers that he only has to eat once a week. A slave to her own curiosity, Desirae’s thoughts turn to how his impressive body works and what caused such changes. Having been the one to turn the mortal into a monster over twenty years ago, a piece of her desperately wants to know what helped him become stronger than she ever dreamed. Forgetting her dangerous situation, the Dawn Fang attempts to control the hunter through the bones she implanted long ago. The reaction she gets is the man suddenly appearing next to her and his soft-palmed hand gripping her by the throat. A gentle pull on her neck sends daggers of pain along her spine, which she knows he can rip out with little effort.
“I’m sorry, Alastyre,” Desirae whispers with a smile. She stares into his eyes, which remind her of the crimson summer moon named after Vir the God of Evil. “I’m curious about how you got so strong and forgot my place. My experiments and surgeries were enough to save your life, but they shouldn’t have done this. I will admit that I was new to the craft and still learning about my powers. While I do think you are my greatest creation, I would think my inexperience would have been more of a hindrance to your growth and progress. Do you still possess the parts that I gave you?”
“Yes, but they are mine now,” the hunter replies in a low voice. Releasing the woman, he goes back to his meal and pushes a shallow bowl of blood to the middle of the table. “A snack to help keep your energy up while we talk again. Your tongue should be able to reach this if I remember your limits. Now, where were we? I believe you finally decided to tell me some secrets about Clyde and his family.”
“As long as you promise not to kill me,” the Dawn Fang quickly says. She stretches her tongue to the blood and shapes it like a spoon before drawing some into her mouth. “To be honest, I don’t know as much as you seem to believe. I’ve never been to Nytefall, so I can’t tell you where that is. All I can tell you is what his weaknesses are.”
“It sickens me that he has such things.”
“And you don’t?”
“I have transcended my flaws and become the perfect being.”