Free Blade Of The Vampire King (Book 4) by Lucas Thorn

I know you might think we're just a couple of kids running from their parents. Maybe you think we're immature. Stupid. And you could be right about that, too. But, as you said, I should've been the queen when my father was cut down in his bedroom. Cut in half, he was. Right down the fucking middle. So, the crown should be mine by right. But my brow wasn't made for it. I never wanted it. I was always comfortable with the idea of my cousin taking it. I just wasn't comfortable with the idea of him taking me with it. I left my home, Nysta. A place I loved. And I know I'll never be able to go back unless it's in chains. Maybe I'm selfish, but as far as I'm concerned, I don't think slavery should be rewarded with loyalty. Do you? I mean, what would you have done, if you were me?”
    “I'd have walked away, kid.” The elf's eyes glittered bright. “Killed any feller stupid enough to get in my way, too.”
    “Yes. That's what I did. Just like that. I killed everyone stupid enough to get in my way. And that's why I can't go back. It's also why you can trust me not to switch sides if we see any more of the Accepted.”
    “No ifs about it,” Chukshene muttered. “We'll see them. Sneaky bastards could be anywhere.”
    The elf agreed with a slight movement of her head, but said nothing as Hemlock suddenly sat up, eyes snapping open. Mouth working furiously as he was chased from his dreams by the restless debris of nightmare.
    “Blood,” he cried, voice shimmering with terror. He gulped for air. Snatched at ghostly threads only he could see. “There's so much blood! It's everywhere.”
    “Hem?” Melganaderna grabbed his face by his cheeks and turned him toward her. Pulled him close. “It's okay, Hem. It's a dream. Just a dream.”
    “No,” he said. He clung to her like a child. “Not a dream. It was too real to be a dream. She was right there, Melgana. Right in front of me. I could almost touch her.”
    “Touch her and I'll break your fingers,” Melganaderna murmured.
    Chukshene moved closer to squat beside the necromancer. “Has she told you her name?”
    The young man pressed his fingers to his eyes and pushed hard. Squeezing the light from his vision.
    Drew his lips back into a frustrated grimace. “I can't remember. Something. It's right there. Right on the tip of my tongue, but I can't say it.”
    Nysta watched Chukshene and Melganaderna fuss over the necromancer and, while her face was unreadable, her mind was a frantic whirl of emotions.
    Part of her wanted to join them. To kneel beside the young man and press a hand to his forehead. To draw some of the fever from his brow.
    Another part of her wanted to wander over and stab him in the face.
    There was something eerily familiar in the way he'd sat up.
    In the way he spoke. The frantic terror of his voice.
    Grunting, she climbed to her feet and turned her face from them. Toward where the warlock's globule of light hovered patiently. Waiting for instruction to seek its next destination.
    Suddenly irritated by the presence of the humans, the elf strode purposefully away.
    Tucked her thumb behind one of her knives and scratched at the scar on her cheek with her other hand.
    Scowled as she passed the shining orb.
    “Nysta?” Chukshene arched his neck and frowned. “Where are you going? I thought we were waiting for-”
    “I'm done waiting, 'lock.” The elf spat a wet stream at the ground in front of her. Rolled her shoulders to clear the tight feeling in her muscle. “Reckon there's a few fellers who headed this way. Figure they're set on dying. I'd hate to disappoint them.”
    “Wait!” Melganaderna snapped at the elf's back as Chukshene rushed to collect himself and move after her. “Hey, you said you'd wait! We only need a moment.”
    “Had more than a moment, girl,” Nysta said. “Long enough for Hyrax and his bastards to get further away from me than I like. Long enough also for my brain to think things I don't like thinking about.”
    “What's that