Read Online Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) by Laura R Cole - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura R Cole
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up still tired, but
at least her muscles were no longer protesting every move. She made
her way down towards the kitchen, and was interrupted while eating
her morning roll by the bell to her mistress's suite. Jezebel's
voice sounded with it, another surviving magical enhancement, and
one that she surprisingly rarely used.
“Someone bring me eggs and toast in bed,” the
woman commanded hoarsely.
Layna looked around and saw that the other
maid who had previously been in the kitchen with her had
conveniently just stepped out. Imagine that , she thought
with a hint of sarcasm though she really couldn’t blame the girl.
Layna prepared a tray of eggs and toast and made her way to the
tower suite that Jezebel occupied. She stopped outside of the door
and lightly rapped on it, waiting until Jezebel called out for her
to enter before opening it.
Jezebel was still in bed and looked rather
unhealthy. Her wavy dark hair was frizzing all over the place and
she had dark circles under her eyes. Her already gaunt face looked
more strained than usual, and the skin seemed stretched over her
bony cheeks. She hardly looked at Layna as she waved her over.
Layna held the tray out for her, and Jezebel gingerly took a piece
of toast.
The woman held it in front of her for a
moment, as if it was some revolting object, before taking a tiny
bite. She closed her eyes and slowly chewed, swallowing with
difficulty. She sat there for a while unmoving, and Layna had the
urge to lean in closer to see if she was still breathing. She
quietly sat the tray down next to the woman.
Jezebel cracked open one eye at her, as
though she could feel the suddenly closer presence, and she grunted
a dismissal at Layna. Layna happily obliged, gently clicking the
door shut behind her.
*
The thud of the door echoed dully in
Jezebel's head and she sneered at the girl behind it, certain the
little minx knew how much of a headache she had and how much it
hurt her to have the door slammed so loudly. She shoved the rest of
the food as far away as possible, and brought the covers up over
her head. The light hurt her eyes, and her heartbeat seemed to
pound in her head. The faint smell of food that now permeated the
room was starting to make her nauseous.
She didn't think she'd had that much wine
last night, but apparently she had been more apprehensive about the
ceremony than she had realized. Her memories of last night were
hazy as well, which bothered her to no end. She hated feeling out
of control, and was not impressed by the large gap in her
memory.
She had arrived at the meeting spot and been
led down into a basement. From there, she had been taken through a
labyrinth of passageways, eventually opening into an underground
temple. She had first been interviewed in a small side chamber by a
mysterious man who she presumed was someone high-ranking in the
Order. He had refused to reveal himself to her, despite her
relentless questioning. He wore a black cloak complete with a mask
which had served to disguise any recognizable features. Though the
night was still a blur, Jezebel felt that she had spent a fair
amount of time with this first man. Frustratingly, she could not
recall what most of the conversation had been about, though she did
remember surprising herself by unintentionally giving truthful
answers to many of his queries. Having slipped up like that made
her uneasy.
Once she had proceeded in front of the rest
of the witnesses in the main temple, the initiation had gone much
as Devon had described. By then, she was slightly more
clear-headed, and able to recite the lie she had invented without
mishap. She had then been forced to listen to the droning narration
of all that was expected of a member of the Order, and finally
asked the question that Devon said they would require her to
answer.
As far as Jezebel could tell, the Order had
believed her story wholeheartedly, and it delighted her that they
had been so surprised and pleased by her immediate
at least her muscles were no longer protesting every move. She made
her way down towards the kitchen, and was interrupted while eating
her morning roll by the bell to her mistress's suite. Jezebel's
voice sounded with it, another surviving magical enhancement, and
one that she surprisingly rarely used.
“Someone bring me eggs and toast in bed,” the
woman commanded hoarsely.
Layna looked around and saw that the other
maid who had previously been in the kitchen with her had
conveniently just stepped out. Imagine that , she thought
with a hint of sarcasm though she really couldn’t blame the girl.
Layna prepared a tray of eggs and toast and made her way to the
tower suite that Jezebel occupied. She stopped outside of the door
and lightly rapped on it, waiting until Jezebel called out for her
to enter before opening it.
Jezebel was still in bed and looked rather
unhealthy. Her wavy dark hair was frizzing all over the place and
she had dark circles under her eyes. Her already gaunt face looked
more strained than usual, and the skin seemed stretched over her
bony cheeks. She hardly looked at Layna as she waved her over.
Layna held the tray out for her, and Jezebel gingerly took a piece
of toast.
The woman held it in front of her for a
moment, as if it was some revolting object, before taking a tiny
bite. She closed her eyes and slowly chewed, swallowing with
difficulty. She sat there for a while unmoving, and Layna had the
urge to lean in closer to see if she was still breathing. She
quietly sat the tray down next to the woman.
Jezebel cracked open one eye at her, as
though she could feel the suddenly closer presence, and she grunted
a dismissal at Layna. Layna happily obliged, gently clicking the
door shut behind her.
*
The thud of the door echoed dully in
Jezebel's head and she sneered at the girl behind it, certain the
little minx knew how much of a headache she had and how much it
hurt her to have the door slammed so loudly. She shoved the rest of
the food as far away as possible, and brought the covers up over
her head. The light hurt her eyes, and her heartbeat seemed to
pound in her head. The faint smell of food that now permeated the
room was starting to make her nauseous.
She didn't think she'd had that much wine
last night, but apparently she had been more apprehensive about the
ceremony than she had realized. Her memories of last night were
hazy as well, which bothered her to no end. She hated feeling out
of control, and was not impressed by the large gap in her
memory.
She had arrived at the meeting spot and been
led down into a basement. From there, she had been taken through a
labyrinth of passageways, eventually opening into an underground
temple. She had first been interviewed in a small side chamber by a
mysterious man who she presumed was someone high-ranking in the
Order. He had refused to reveal himself to her, despite her
relentless questioning. He wore a black cloak complete with a mask
which had served to disguise any recognizable features. Though the
night was still a blur, Jezebel felt that she had spent a fair
amount of time with this first man. Frustratingly, she could not
recall what most of the conversation had been about, though she did
remember surprising herself by unintentionally giving truthful
answers to many of his queries. Having slipped up like that made
her uneasy.
Once she had proceeded in front of the rest
of the witnesses in the main temple, the initiation had gone much
as Devon had described. By then, she was slightly more
clear-headed, and able to recite the lie she had invented without
mishap. She had then been forced to listen to the droning narration
of all that was expected of a member of the Order, and finally
asked the question that Devon said they would require her to
answer.
As far as Jezebel could tell, the Order had
believed her story wholeheartedly, and it delighted her that they
had been so surprised and pleased by her immediate
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