A Curse of Blood & Stone – Fate & Flame Read Online K.A. Tucker

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
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“I am looking for a friend who was brought here for safekeeping until I could reach her.”

Sheyda’s mouth gapes. “Yes, indeed. She arrived several days ago. We have done our best to make her comfortable during her transition.”

Gesine heaves a sigh of relief. “Thank the fates.”

Silence hangs, the false priestess staring at Gesine in utter shock. What must it be like, to devote your entire life to playing a character only to find yourself standing in front of the real person? Does she feel foolish?

“Can we see her?” Gesine presses.

“Oh!” Sheyda throws her hands in the air as if startled out of her stupor. “Yes, of course!”

We trail her as she rambles nonstop—about the night Ianca arrived in a wagon, driven by Ocher, the sanctum’s groundskeeper; about Ianca’s long days of sleeping and nights of prattling to no one, about her lackluster appetite and her declining health—along a long hallway. The air of calm she exuded during her greeting is gone, replaced by an almost frantic quality.

We turn down a set of winding stairs illuminated with lanterns. The deeper we go, the more concerned I get. “Is this where you have your dungeons?” Is that where they’re keeping her?

“Oh, no!” Sheyda laughs nervously. “We don’t have dungeons in the sanctum. Many of our priestesses live in modest rooms down here. Sometimes guests from out of town too. We had your friend upstairs in one of the spires, a lovely room with a view out to the garden, but that became problematic. The change is progressing swiftly in her. One morning she woke up and wouldn’t stop shouting out the window. With that gold collar … well, Ocher said you were very specific about her remaining hidden.”

“That is correct.” Gesine’s voice is tinged with worry.

“It seemed a safer place for her down here, and I think it’s helped. She seems more … at ease.”

What is she like when she isn’t at ease? My father stood on park benches and wooden crates, shouting about demons when he was especially agitated.

We finally reach the bottom. One long, low-ceilinged, windowless hall stretches in front of us. Solid wood arched doors line either side. While Sheyda’s explanation of these rooms seemed sound, in my mind, this screams prison.

“She is in the last one on the left.” Sheyda fishes for a ring with countless dangling keys from within her cloak. “We don’t normally use these, but it seemed imperative for her safety.” She unlocks the door and raises her fist to knock.

“A moment. Please.” Gesine holds a hand in the air, and then turns to us, pausing as if to gather her thoughts. Or maybe her composure. Her complexion has paled a few shades. “Receiving so many strangers when Ianca is this fragile may be a poor choice.”

“The room is quite small,” Sheyda confirms. “Even two or three will find it cramped.”

“And I do not know what Ianca might say.” Gesine gives Elisaf a knowing look.

What she might say about the many secrets she knows, the biggest one being what I am.

Elisaf picks up on the unspoken meaning and turns to face the warriors. “You two will wait out here.”

Jarek snorts. “You don’t order us around, guard. I am second-in-command to the King’s Legion, and I outrank you. I go where she goes.” He jerks his head toward me.

Elisaf huffs. Everything these Islorians do involves a pecking order. I guess being the king’s friend doesn’t elevate him high enough.

Unfortunately for Jarek, I can play this game too. I meet his hard gaze and say with a saccharine voice, “And I am pretty sure I outrank you, warrior. You two will stay out here.”

His molars grind. I’m right, and we both know it.

Behind him, Zorya smiles. I can’t tell if she’s impressed by my mettle or imagining how she might like to kill me when all is said and done.

Another beat passes and then Jarek pivots on his heels and takes up position, his broad back against the wall. “As you command.” He leaves off Your Highness for Sheyda’s benefit, or maybe because he can’t stomach the words.

Gesine releases a shaky breath and whispers a soft “thank you” to me as the false priestess raps her knuckles against the door.

Silence answers.

“As I said, she has been sleeping a lot, especially with the calming tonics we’ve been giving her.”

They’ve been sedating her.

After another moment’s pause, Sheyda pushes open the door. A loud, eerie creak carries as she steps back to allow us through. Inside is a narrow, windowless room with stone walls. In the corner by the door, a wooden desk holds a single lantern and a vase with freshly picked wildflowers. The tray of food someone left has been upturned, the sliced apples and berries scattered, thick stew splattered over the wall as if the bowl had been thrown.


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