Armande's jaw clenched and he barely stifled a growl in his chest. He couldn't help the flaring of his nostrils or the fact that his eyes blazed blue flames at the casual use of the power, as though it were nothing. Red filmed his head as the cards spun about until three cards hung before him, the woman's voice reduced to a buzzing as his mind fogged with emotion. The power very nearly touched him and his stomach turned.
The arrogance in this room was so thick he almost choked on it, as visible as the marijuana smoke that hovered in the air. The other two did not appear to be partaking but he was willing to bet they already had a contact high.
The arrogance of these gods, these men and women who believed themselves better than any of them. These two were young, but Brandon was not. And Brandon had arrogated power to himself long ago, assumed his position when both of them were still in their early 20s. It was no accident they had been born at the same time, in the same year.
The power of the gods would call to them, seduce them with its promises, with its opportunities. People would stand in awe of them. This woman called herself a Voodoo Queen. By what right!?! None but her power. None but her overweening pride. Oh yes, if not now, then soon enough. Everything theirs by divine right. The beginning of the end.
The back of Valeriya's head was not spared his fiery gaze as she strode forward, as if embracing the woman as a friend, an equal, sitting and demanding food and drink be brought to her, heedless of the danger they faced. A child. She was a child. He needed to teach her....somehow.
For now, though, he closed his eyes and meditated, though he felt the boy's eyes on him as he lazily sipped at his drink, cigarette dangling from his fingers. This is a war. This is not a battle. The mantra repeated and gradually his rage diminished from boiling to merely simmering.
He went to stand next to Valeriya's seat as more food and drink presented themselves. Armande studied the room, thinking. Curiosity got the better of him. "May I ask, Voodoo Queen." The term was filled with mockery. "How many people have you killed with your power? And why?" His gaze swung to the boy, daring him. "Or you?" He paused, pursing his lips. "I am curious as to how someone with power feels about the rest of us."
The arrogance in this room was so thick he almost choked on it, as visible as the marijuana smoke that hovered in the air. The other two did not appear to be partaking but he was willing to bet they already had a contact high.
The arrogance of these gods, these men and women who believed themselves better than any of them. These two were young, but Brandon was not. And Brandon had arrogated power to himself long ago, assumed his position when both of them were still in their early 20s. It was no accident they had been born at the same time, in the same year.
The power of the gods would call to them, seduce them with its promises, with its opportunities. People would stand in awe of them. This woman called herself a Voodoo Queen. By what right!?! None but her power. None but her overweening pride. Oh yes, if not now, then soon enough. Everything theirs by divine right. The beginning of the end.
The back of Valeriya's head was not spared his fiery gaze as she strode forward, as if embracing the woman as a friend, an equal, sitting and demanding food and drink be brought to her, heedless of the danger they faced. A child. She was a child. He needed to teach her....somehow.
For now, though, he closed his eyes and meditated, though he felt the boy's eyes on him as he lazily sipped at his drink, cigarette dangling from his fingers. This is a war. This is not a battle. The mantra repeated and gradually his rage diminished from boiling to merely simmering.
He went to stand next to Valeriya's seat as more food and drink presented themselves. Armande studied the room, thinking. Curiosity got the better of him. "May I ask, Voodoo Queen." The term was filled with mockery. "How many people have you killed with your power? And why?" His gaze swung to the boy, daring him. "Or you?" He paused, pursing his lips. "I am curious as to how someone with power feels about the rest of us."