Echoes of Blood and Glory

  Echoes of Blood and Glory

  Daylight’s Crown, Book 2

  Ripley Proserpina

  Copyright © 2020 by Ripley Proserpina

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by KD Richie at Storywrappers

  Content Editing by Heather V. Long

  Copy Editing by Jennifer Jones at Bookends Editing

  Proof Editing by Meghan Daigle at Bookish Dreams Editing

  Created with Vellum

  For everyone who wanted to see more of my characters.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Horus

  2. Rose

  3. Seti

  4. Rose

  5. Rose

  6. Seti

  7. Rose

  8. Ra

  9. Rose

  10. Rose

  11. Horus

  12. Rose

  13. Seti

  14. Rose

  15. Ra

  16. Rose

  17. Horus

  18. Rose

  19. Horus

  20. Rose

  21. Seti

  22. Rose

  23. Ra

  24. Rose

  25. Horus

  26. Rose

  27. Seti

  28. Rose

  29. Ra

  30. Seti

  31. Rose

  32. Ra

  33. Five Years Later

  34. Ra

  35. Seti

  36. Rose

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by Ripley Proserpina

  Prologue

  All around Ra was the scent of burning. Huts made of dried reeds and mud had gone up in flames the moment the battle began. They were piles of smoldering ruins now, their occupants inside—also dead.

  Smoldering.

  Ash.

  Vengeance. Ra let his head fall back, face toward the bright sun after which he was named. He took a breath, imagining that the smoke that irritated his lungs was that of all his enemies. They were part of him now, in his blood and in his skin.

  Did the swath of destruction he cut over the Upper Peninsula bring his mother and father back? No.

  But did it feel better than anything he’d ever done?

  Yes.

  His blood hummed, as if the lives of all his family’s betrayers gave him strength.

  "Ra?" His brother’s voice echoed in his head, followed by a question. "Where are you?"

  He stepped over a blackened form, hand reaching toward him as if the person still begged for mercy.

  Ra had been merciless. He smiled, deliberately stepping on the skeleton so the bones cracked beneath his sandal. This was the body of the priest, the one who had called his parents blasphemous. Affronts to the gods.

  Ra and his brothers had shown him they were gods. The priests and villagers had affronted them. And their anger had been terrible.

  And glorious.

  His brothers appeared on the horizon. Their long dark hair caught up in the breeze, their forms so similar, they looked like mirror images. When the people had seen them, swords resting on their broad shoulders, they’d screamed and tried to run, but outrunning creatures like them proved an impossibility.

  Earlier, as the sun rose over the Nile, their swords had shone bright and clean. Now, they dripped blood. It stained his brothers’ skin, trickled down their leather chest straps, over their hips, and down their legs. If they were to take their sandals off, they’d leave bloody footprints.

  “Is it done?” Ra asked.

  Horus and Seti had gone to the temple where his parents’ bodies were. And then they forced the priests who had killed them to give them the rites that ensured their entry into paradise.

  All the villagers, merchants, priests, farmers—they would be servants to their parents in the afterlife.

  “Yes,” Horus answered. He dropped the sword at his feet and bent at the waist, hands on his knees. He sucked in one breath and then another. As Ra approached, he examined their faces. Seti had blood on his lips and chin. Good. It would have added so much horror to the betrayers’ last moments.

  The village was almost clear. While he wanted the people who had killed his family to serve them for all eternity, he was not dragging pieces of bodies across the sand to his parents’ resting place.

  These men could rot where they lay.

  He and his brothers would leave them there, and let the vultures choke on what he, Horus, and Seti left.

  1

  Horus

  He wasn’t healing.

  Horus touched the scabbed scrape across his lower torso, dragging his fingers over the raised purple wound. He knew the phases of healing. He’d watched his body fly through each one. Beads of blood solidified into a scab that sloughed off, leaving bruised skin that reddened, then pinked, and finally, disappeared completely.

  From the moment he was born, that was how he healed.

  This. This. A lingering wound still tender to the touch. This was wrong.

  “What’s the matter?” His eldest brother, Ra, had sensed his disquiet.

  “Nothing,” he was quick to answer. He wanted to work this out before he worried them.

  “Liar, liar, butt’s on fire,” Seti, his twin, teased.

  “Pants, idiot,” he couldn’t help but return.

  “You’re sleeping with Rose,” Seti said. “Why are you wearing pants?”

  True. He wished he wasn’t wearing pants, but his relationship with the strange and beautiful girl who slept by his side hadn’t progressed to that point. They were still learning each other. Still stealing kisses and holding hands.

  He’d never done this with someone before. His experience was limited to quick, frantic couplings whose only purpose was to relieve tension.

  With Rose, everything was drawn out. A touch of her fingers could get him hard faster than…well, than anything he could remember.

  Next to him, Rose let out a breath and snuggled closer into his side. The curtains to the bedroom were open. There was a full moon, and it made the interior as bright as daylight.

  Rose’s eyes danced beneath her lids. She was dreaming, and if Horus concentrated, he’d be able to see the scenes playing in her mind.

  This was another thing he hadn’t told his brothers.

  She was already picking up on their conversations, overhearing bits and pieces of the communication that always stayed between the three of them. Every so often, she’d answer a question one of them had asked the other.

  In their minds.

  Horus didn’t think she realized it yet.

  But this connection was different. It was something Horus could see that the others couldn’t. It was an experience unique only to him and Rose. The bridge between dreams and memory wasn’t long.

  Horus had almost died. He’d come closer than he ever had before to becoming nothing.

  Because before he could disintegrate into ash, Rose had saved him.

  He was bleeding out, dying, and she gave him her blood. If he thought hard about it, he could remember the pain that came with it. Her blood was poison, but also human. It helped him stay alive long enough for his brothers to arrive.

  Now, though, things were different. Dreams and memories. Healing and pain. They were a part of Horus’s day to day.

  “I’m not ready,” Rose said. Her body jerked, and he pulled her into his arms.

  “Shh,” he soothed. Her curls were tangled, but he stroked them from the crown of her h
ead to her neck, and she slowly began to calm. “What are you dreaming?”

  The question pulled him from the reality of their bedroom in a town outside of Boston to someplace he didn’t recognize.

  Everything seemed real. The beeping monitors. The antiseptic smell. The overly air-conditioned air.

  Slowly, Horus approached the woman in the hospital bed. Once upon a time, her skin would have been a luscious golden tan, but now it was yellow with undertones of blue, like it was dying.

  She was dying.

  The short fuzz over her head was dark, shot through with gray, but that wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks.

  It was her smile.

  How she could smile when she was so clearly at the end of her life was beyond him. Human lives were short, and they resisted the end when it came.

  Not this woman, though.

  Her eyes opened, the whites were yellow, but the irises were dark to match her hair. “You came,” she said, her voice hoarse. She looked past Horus.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” The familiar voice came from behind him, and he turned, surprised.

  He moved to the side as Rose passed by him and approached the bed. “I don’t know, Ma, but it was like every single tourist was on the T.”

  Curly hair. Curves. Sparkling brown eyes. His Rose was slightly younger but no less beautiful.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve been sleeping most of the day anyway,” the woman—Rose’s mom—said.

  A dream and a memory.

  Horus blinked. When he took blood from humans and vampires, he absorbed their memories. Except, memory was different with Rose. In the past, memories flashed in front of his eyes, but he was never part of them.

  Now he was a silent observer. The audience to Rose’s past.

  He reached for the girl who’d taken a seat next to the hospital bed, but his hand passed right through her body like he was a ghost.

  There had to be a reason for this. Like his body taking its time to heal, things were changing. The anxiety that came from novelty would melt away once he figured out why this was happening.

  Or maybe it was just the connection he had to the girl who took up all his thoughts, waking and sleeping.

  “How are you feeling?” Rose asked, getting his attention again.

  “Not so good, sweetie,” her mom replied.

  Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned closer, reaching for her mother’s hand. “I’ll get the nurses.”

  “It’s not that, mija,” she said. “I’m as comfortable as they can make me, but I’m worried about you. You’re not ready.”

  If sadness was a physical thing, then it filled the room like a haze.

  “I’ll never be ready, Mom,” she said.

  “I can’t leave you.” Her mother shook her head back and forth, and Horus realized what he’d seen earlier hadn’t been acceptance of her end. It had been joy in seeing her daughter. This woman was nowhere near ready to die.

  As if she could hold her body in place, Rose’s mom fisted the sheets at her sides.

  “That’s a long way off,” Rose tried to assure her, but it was a lie, and as the words left her mouth, she sniffed.

  “Who’s going to take care of you?”

  She shook her head. “I—” Horus could almost feel her pain. The way tears clogged her throat as she sought to ease her mom’s fears. “School starts in a month. I’ve saved money. I’ll live on campus.” It didn’t sound like Rose when she spoke. Each sentence was like a shard of glass, but the girl pushed them out. “I have a plan. I need you, Mom, but I’ll be okay. I promise.” She broke down. Her entire body shook with the force of her sobs, heaving when she couldn’t catch her breath.

  And Rose’s mom was in hell. She tried to move closer, but her body was weak, and the most she could do was pat her hand and whisper, “Rose. Rose. I’m not ready. I don’t want you to be alone.”

  She won’t be. Horus wanted to tell the woman that. Her desperation was palpable.

  Rose took a breath. A change came over her. She pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Edging forward, she kissed her mom’s knuckles. “Listen to me. I’m going to be okay. Not right away. Probably not for a while. But I’m going to college. And after that, I’m going to get a job. You made me a strong woman. I’m going to make it.”

  “I want the world for you, mija.”

  “I know.”

  The room was getting darker. Fading out. He blinked to clear his vision, but when he opened his eyes, he was home.

  His new home.

  Here, it was quiet. He could hear anything that was creeping, or sliding, toward him.

  Toward them.

  “Where did you go?” Ra asked. “One minute we’re speaking to you, and the next you disappear.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  Concern filled the void between them. Rose was breathing softly, like the dream they’d shared had faded out of her mind when he’d left it.

  “You’re still healing,” Seti said. His twin was serious.

  Careful not to wake Rose, he sat up in bed.

  And changed the subject.

  “I like it here,” he told his brothers. It was quieter than Boston. Not as busy. The cars that drove by the house were few and far between. He couldn’t even see the lights from the closest neighbor.

  “Me, too,” Seti agreed. “Even if there is no Wi-Fi.”

  Horus chuckled.

  “What are you laughing at?” A new voice entered his consciousness. This one slightly raspy.

  Rose. None of them replied to her unspoken question. Instead, they waited.

  Finally, she whispered aloud, “Horus?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Are you okay?” Her eyes were sleepy, and her curly hair stood up like fuzz around her head.

  “Yes. I’m sorry if I was tossing and turning,” he said.

  Rose yawned. “Was I snoring?” she asked.

  “No.”

  She tried to sit up, but he turned onto his side and tucked her against him. “Be the little spoon. It’s still dark. Go back to sleep.”

  “Okay.” She snuggled under the covers, but faced him so her head was beneath his chin.

  He froze.

  For a moment, her mother’s face replaced hers—sickly and pale. But he blinked, and it was gone. The Rose in front of him was the picture of health. She’d recovered from the injuries she’d suffered when she’d been dragged out of her apartment in the middle of the night.

  She stretched beneath the sheets before putting her arms between them, hands against his heart. Her skin was smooth. Scarless.

  But he knew better. Rose had scars. They had healed, but they were there.

  She grabbed his hands and held them between them right at the center of his chest. At the place where he’d been struck with warmth the first time he saw her.

  The worry he’d felt earlier was gone. With Rose in his arms, he was warm and comfortable. Home.

  “I don’t want you to go.” She spoke in her head, but the words were sleepy, and he could feel her slipping into a dream.

  “I won’t,” he assured her.

  “Good.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he let his eyes close, too. Just when he thought she’d dropped off, she whispered something that made his eyes pop open again. “I’m not ready.”

  2

  Rose

  Rose’s sleep wasn’t dreamless. She had nightmares now, ones that stayed with her even after she opened her eyes.

  Last night, she’d dreamt about her mom and those last days when she was lucid and so very, very scared.

  Not for herself.

  But for Rose.

  When she awoke in Horus’s arms, the feeling of helplessness remained. She hated that feeling.

  She wanted to be strong and self-reliant.

  “Morning,” he said, kissing her hair.

  She’d slept with her face buried in his chest, and now she kissed him right between his perfect pecs. “Morning. Did yo
u sleep?”

  Horus, Seti, and Ra didn’t need to sleep, but every so often, they did. And Rose had noticed that lately, Horus often fell asleep if he lay down with her.

  Anxiety flooded her. She worried about him. Only a few weeks ago, he’d nearly died, and she nearly lost another person she loved—cared about. It was too early for love.

  Cared about. Her inner voice—that was a snarky, but honest, bitch—repeated itself: love.

  Horus, Ra, and Seti had made her no promises about forever, or even about next month. Their focus right now was on the threat Dr. Eben Stone presented.

  “What are we doing today?” she asked.

  Horus made a noise that could have meant anything. “Oh.” She imitated his noise. “That’s what we’re doing?”

  He dropped his face to her neck and gave her small, biting kisses. “Are you so ready to leap out of my bed?”

  “No.” Her body responded to his immediately. All he had to do was look at her and she found herself caught in his dark-eyed gaze. She arched into him, rubbing her body against his big, muscled one like a cat, and he groaned.

  The teasing kisses changed. He lingered against her skin, tongue darting out to taste. She turned her head, giving him more room to continue, and he chuckled. The vibrations sent a shiver along her neck, over her shoulders, and straight to her core.

  She could feel him between them, hard and long. But he didn’t push. He never pushed for more than he thought she might be willing to give.

  Except… he was totally misreading her, because when she was in his arms and he was building a fire in her belly, she’d give him everything.