Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1) Read Free Page A

lining the road. You could intermittently hear the muted
roar of music, laughter and tinkling glasses as someone entered or exited one
of the establishments and released a bubble of sound and light into the street.
The Castle loomed darkly down on the revelers from the top of the extinct
volcano in the center of the city.
    She was meeting the rest of her coven at
the Irish Pub. She could never remember the names of Irish Pubs; they always
seemed to be named after the proprietor, unless the proprietor happened to be
named Chen or Patel and then they were usually just called Murphy’s. The
English, the Scots and the Welsh seemed to have a better idea about how to give
a pub a memorable name, like the Farmer’s Arms, the Red Dragon or even the Cock
and Bottle.
    As she approached the door to the Irish Pub
she tried to make out the name spelled out by the curling cursive script of the
sign, perhaps, O’Mally’s or O’Mully’s? It didn’t really matter.
    Then, she felt a small niggle. There was
someone in pain up at the castle. There were many things she could resist. She
could forgo sex, drugs, even food and drink but someone in pain was something
altogether more difficult to resist, so why bother resisting?
    She quickly moved towards the castle to
stake her claim, before one of the others noticed and decided to investigate.
    She darted up a set of stairs that would
take her from the lower road up to the Royal Mile. As she turned the corner she
could see a truly pathetic crippled creature looking out at the city. Charlie
dismissed the vague feeling of familiarity as she felt a warm glow just below
her belly button.
    Umm, cripples, she loved cripples.
    In her vast experience, cripples usually
had their emotions locked down pretty well. They insulated themselves from the
world, never showing the emotional toll that their condition took on them. With
a little bit of effort, they would crack and their anguish would flow out.
Scrumptious.
    This cripple was more buttoned down that
usual. She could neither read nor feel anything of his emotions, other than the
slight niggle that had drawn her to him. She got wet thinking of the volcanic
bubble of emotional magma waiting to burst forth for her.
    She pulled down the short hem of her black
raincoat and ran a hand through her short, wet, ginger hair as she approached
him.
     
    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
    He startled and then winced in pain. People
usually could not sneak up on him. “Yes, yes it is. It’s one of my favorite
spots to view the city.” His heart was pounding. He exerted every ounce of his
will to appear calm. Hopefully she thought she had just startled him, nothing
more.
    “I hope I’m not intruding.” She walked over
to the guard rail and then turned from the view to look at him. Her pupils
dilated slightly.
    “No, no, not at all. It is nice to talk to
someone for a change.”
    “You do not talk much then?”
    “No, not much, I mostly keep to myself.” He
broke her gaze and looked out to the city again.
    “I see. You said this is one of your
favorite spots. Do you come here often?”
    He thought a second and replied, “Well once
a week or so. Is that often? I suppose it depends on how many things you do
with your time.” He involuntarily looked back at her and was immediately
trapped by her magnetic green eyes.
    She smiled and her attractiveness ratcheted
up a few notches. “Well, would you say that once a week was often for you?”
    He grimaced slightly and said, “Yes, I
suppose I would. How about you, what brings a pretty girl like you out in the
rain?”
    She smiled a little more widely at the compliment.
“I needed a break from studying. My friends are indulging in a little retail
therapy. I’d rather go for a walk than shop, even a walk in the rain.”
    “Ah, shopping, the core of the world
economy,” he murmured.
    She snorted in agreement. “I thought I
would see if I could get into the castle and take my mind off my studies