Blade Of The Vampire King (Book 4) Read Online Free

revealing nothing of the war she was waging with herself, followed the warlock as he knelt beside the two packs left by the soldiers she'd just killed. He rummaged through them, looking for something he obviously didn't expect to find.
    He hadn't changed much, she thought. Maybe got a bit skinnier if that was possible. Gaunt and almost fragile-looking. Black hair looked a bit more dirty, and his jaw was coated with a scratchy layer of stubble.
    His flamboyant robes had seen better days, too. Like her own clothes, they were torn and teased at the edges. The dark purple runes which once glittered proudly along the edging appeared to have faded.
    He looked less like the impressive mage he wanted to appear and more like the travelling spellslinger she'd always taken him for.
    The only thing missing was his grimoire.
    Which, she figured, was probably what he was searching for.
    None of these observations answered the unspoken question.
    Why was he here?
    Last time she'd seen him, he was aiming to catch ship to the Fnordic Lands. He should be home in Godsfall. Or enjoying himself in his precious Hatejaw with one of his supposedly endless string of wives.
    Not out here in the shadow of the Bloods.
    He lifted himself from the last pack and glanced at the bodies as though considering searching them, too. And it was in that moment that the elf realised something had changed about him after all. Something unseen. He looked tougher. More sure of himself.
    Less afraid.
    Nibbling his bottom lip, the warlock curled his fingers and turned to her. Eyes skipped away from her gaze and up toward the sky. Steel grey shot through with blue.
    “Hello again, Nysta,” he said at last. And, when he realised she wasn't going to respond; “Fine. If that's how you want it. I won't lie and say I missed your conversational skills.”
    The elf showed her teeth in a humourless grin. “If you don't tell me why you're here, I won't miss you, either,” she said, spinning Entrance Exam in her fingers. “Not at this range.” 
    “Or your threats.” He showed only a trickle of doubt as he moved closer to the fire, seeking warmth. “Didn't miss those one bit. I swear to Grim, Nysta, those are like the only language you know. I'd write a book about it if I thought anyone would read it. Shit, I might write it anyway. I'll call it The Eloquent Threats of an Elf Thug . It'll only have one chapter, of course. After that, they'd only get boring.” 
    “Don't fuck with me, 'lock. I ain't in the mood.”
    “And I am?” His eyes were slightly wild. “Look at me! Look what they did to me. They kicked the shit out of me for days. Weeks, maybe. Could even be months. I don't fucking know how long to tell the truth, but it was a long fucking time. And I'm cold. I've been sitting against that tree so long I can't feel my fucking legs. Or my arms. Or my fucking ears. Hardly feel my mouth moving, to tell the fucking truth. You want to kill me? Grim's frozen ass, Nysta, right now that'd probably be the best thing you could fucking do for me. What I'm trying to say is I feel like shit. Just let me get my fucking bearings before you start trying to get answers to questions I can't fucking answer, okay?”
    “Longer I wait, the more lies you invent,” she snapped back, pointing the knife at him. “Don't pretend you're too tired to talk. I know you enough to know you love flapping those lips of yours. Can't keep quiet most times. Feller like you? The only time you shut your mouth is when you can't tell your lies from the truth. So don't piss me about because I ain't fucking around when I say I'll happily slit your fucking throat and leave you with these other dead assholes for the Dhampirs to gnaw on. Won't lose a minute of sleep over it. Might actually leave me with some nice dreams for a change, too. And judging by the way you've been creeping around this camp, you've lost your precious fucking book of spells. Which means you ain't about to put up much of a fight.