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From a distant part of the house, a clock chimes low and loud: gong, gong, gong… Twelve times. The room holds its collective breath until the last ring peals.
The moment silence falls, Mathias’s eyes open wide.
The candles flicker. His followers gasp.
The ceremony leader kneels, head bowed. “You have returned, our liege!”
“My faithful Anarki…” Mathias’s voice sounds thin and strained. “You have pulled me from death and returned me to the mortal realm because you believe in me.”
“We never waver,” the first replied.
“Excellent. Did those fools I fought pass to their nextlife?”
“They were wounded during the final battle. Most died within days of your sleep.”
“Your name?”
“Zain Denzell.”
“Ah, your father served me well.” Mathias strains until he manages to sit up. “Have you brought all I need?”
Zain nods, stepping outside the circle and wending through the crowd until he finds the figures dragged into the room—the middle-aged man and adolescent blonde clad in a thin, dirt-streaked nightgown. He unwinds the ropes from around their necks with a wave of his hand, then gives them a vicious shove toward Mathias.
Both sprawl at his feet, unconscious.
“Lovely.” Mathias grins. “MacKinnetts?”
“Indeed,” Zain confirms. “The Councilman’s untransitioned daughter and his brother. You must be starved.”
Mathias nods, eyeing the young girl with the pale ringlets. “Take her to my chamber. I intend to take my time with her.”
Zain snaps his fingers, and a robed servant jumps, clasping his hand around her wrist like a manacle before dragging her away.
I hold my breath as I watch the horror unfold. I need not ask about the girl’s fate. I know. After centuries of battle, I am rarely stunned by butchery, but the cruelty Mathias has planned for her sickens me. Despite having the body of a woman, she is still a child.
Mathias faces the prostrate old man and touches his palm to the center of his chest.
Seconds later, the man wakes, blinking. He scrambles back with a gasp. “You!”
“Me,” Mathias mocks.
MacKinnett’s eyes widen in horror. “W-when? How?”
As two Anarki grab hold of the sputtering old man, Mathias merely smiles.
“Shall we hold him down?” asks one, his voice shaking with enthusiasm to serve.
“Indeed.” Slowly, Mathias rises, refusing the helpful hands extended his way. “The time has come to show the Privileged that their rule has ended.”
“No. No! Please…” The older man resists.
Until Mathias grips his throat.
“Shut up! Were I not so starved for energy, I would draw out your punishment and make an example of you so that your kind understands what awaits if they resist. But your anger and fear will power me enough to focus hours of my attention on your lovely niece. Her young, ripe body will provide me far more energy. Delicious.”
“Please, no,” MacKinnett babbles. “Auropha is just a girl. Sweet, with her whole life ahead of her. She knows nothing of peril or pain—”
“Then I’d best see to her education.”
