War Love and Blood - Book 1: War Love and Blood, #1

By Kyrian Malone

Livermore Falls, a small town in Maine with a population of about 1,700. Kristen Adams, a 19-year-old girl, will soon die at the hands of Faith Ryan, a beautiful young woman with insolent features and charismatic allure who captures her attention at first glance. What Kristen doesn’t know: Faith was born in 936 in Northumbria County, England. What she’s going to become: She doesn’t know it yet, but she was chosen and her last breath in Maine will lead her to New York where she will discover who she is, or rather, who she’s always been.

The first fantasy bit-lit novel written by Kyrian between Dublin, Boston, Livermore Falls and Paris. A book that revisits the vampire myth from its origins to the present day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kyrian Malone
• Release date: Jul 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071537244

Book preview

War love and blood

Volume 1

Kyraine Molon

And

Jamie Leigh

Translated by

Fazal Karim

Copyright © 2019 STEDITIONS

Access to chapters

Prologue

Chapter 2:  The Fire

Chapter 2:  The Blood

Chapter 3:  World of the living dead

Chapter 4:  The Instinct

Chapter 5:  The Rules

Chapter 6:  Family Meal

Chapter 7: The Connection

Chapter 8: The Coronation

Chapter 9: Alice

Chapter 10:  The Genesis

Chapter 11: Cara

Chapter 12: The wakeup

Chapter 13:  Sarah

Chapter 14:  About Life and Death

This book is a fiction. Characters and dialogues are the products of the imagination of the authors. Any resemblance with any existed or existing person can only be fortuitous.

All rights reserved. Any reproduction, dissemination or partial use is strictly prohibited without the prior consent of the authors and ST Editions.

All the information is on:

https://steditions.com

Age does not protect you from the dangers of love. But love, to some extent, protects you from the dangers of age.

– Jeanne Moreau

Prologue

I was going to die.

Among the three or four hundred people walking around me, I would be the one who would die in a few minutes. Why, how, I knew absolutely nothing about it and I also didn’t know why she chose me. I had always doubted about my sexuality, my attraction to girls, and I had only experienced boys. Yet this thrill that had passed through me when I saw her, was not comparable to any other and had awakened this little something in me that I could not explain.

First there was the moment when I stopped to look at her as if to make sure she was there, and then there was the moment when our eyes had plunged into each other, the moment when I felt my heart is spinning in my chest. A physical reaction that could find no explanation anywhere, but that I would remember until the end of my days, which would not be long.

We had observed ourselves at a good distance, I, too shy, following her with my eyes, she was charismatic, perhaps waiting for a sign from me. At least I wanted to believe that—

She was perhaps five or six years older than me, and at the age of nineteen, I wasn’t leading the way in the face of the overwhelming emotions. She already had an unsuspected power was capturing all my attention, dissociating with ease and grace from the crowd in which we have bathed.

I wondered if I was imagining things, but the reality had struck me: among the three or four hundred people around us, she had looked at me, not at Tommy or the others, but at me alone... I had nothing more than all those beautiful girls who came and went to this hip bar in Portland, the kind of girls all boys want to end the night in a hotel room. No flashy dress, no sophisticated hairstyle, no high heels, no unnatural makeup. I was what everyone called a county girl, a country girl from Livermore Falls, an unknown little town in Maine twenty minutes from Lewiston and two hours from Portland.

If I was in this bar tonight, it was neither to have a good time nor to drink to the fullest in this mega-booze typical of my peers. I had simply accompanied Tommy and found the most fascinating distraction through this unknown.

She was sitting at the back of the bar, away from the crowd in a dark corner, but bright enough for me to contemplate. Wearing jeans, a black turtleneck formed her bust. Her pale complexion highlighted her fine black eyebrows and hazel eyes.

She got up, put on her jacket and walked away from the counter. She was stronger than me, I could not stop myself following her. The look she gave me as she passed by me had a silent invitation. Without saying a word to Tommy that I thought I’d see her again after, I’d walk away trying to find my way out of the bar where she disappeared.

Outside, the icy wind slammed into my face. I lifted my hood over my head and put my hands in the pockets of my jacket, shivering from the cold. Standing in front of the bar entrance, I looked into every nook and cranny of the surrounding area without noticing. Customers who came in and out pushed me on the way, eager to get warm or get back to their vehicles. Anyone would have relinquished if it was so cold, but not me. I had to find her, I had to talk to her, I had to know who she was, what her first name was, even if it meant making me look ridiculous.

So I decided to bypass the bar façade to the parking lot. Like a ghost, she had disappeared, or had I arrived too late. Disillusioned, I found myself alone in the middle of the parked cars. My audacity had not been rewarded and I had never perceived such a feeling of frustration.

Suddenly, a noise behind startled me. By the time I turned around, a divine figure stood within a meter. It was her, my beautiful stranger. Her face looked paler under the white light of the lampposts. We were as surprised as each other to find ourselves face to face, and no doubt we were wondering the same question: what we were doing there, but deep down, I knew we knew the answer.

She approached her hand to my cheek, and at that moment I didn’t know how to react, I was gasping. Should I step back, talk to her? The freshness of her skin on mine gave me the answer. I let her palm touch my face. Her hazel eyes darkened in the dark night. They stared at me, hypnotic and penetrating. I was as if paralyzed, no sound came out of my mouth. My frantic heart pounded and caused a slight unusual dizziness. Time seemed hanging on a thread that any movement on my part could break. Motionless, with my feet glued to the bitumen, I looked at his other hand, which tried to spread a few strands from my face. The silence between us was spreading around. I could no longer hear a noise despite the proximity of an avenue. Even the cold around us had no effect on me. She had still not said a word and stared at me without blinking. It filled the little space that remained between us and finally broke the silence.

"Were you looking for me?

My eardrums had just vibrated to her stony voice, but so sweet to hear. I was thinking of all the possible answers I could give her. However, only one seemed obvious to me: Yes I was looking for her. Why would I have gone out in that parking lot, alone, at this late hour if it had been otherwise? The fact was that I could no longer organize the course of my thoughts, did not measure how abnormal the coldness of his skin was. My gaze did not turn away from hers as if her presence made her a mirage. I dared finally make a sound:

— It is true that it may sound stupid...

I got lost in my answer and felt compelled to justify myself. However, I was not generally shy, but this evening was an exception. It took me a few seconds to regain some confidence before continuing my explanation:

"I mean, it is, I know, but you were looking at me and...

Certainly, I couldn’t do it. She stood there, impassive in front of my gibberish, and it only confused me. I was confused like an idiot. Why the hell didn’t she wave at me, say a word that might have concluded this ridiculous misunderstanding? On the contrary, she was standing in front of me with an insistent look and seemed to enjoy the situation. She placed one hand on my cheek, and the other caressed my hair. I remained paralyzed; the soles of my sneakers taped to asphalt. Finally, she decided to answer me, and I hoped that she would free me from my discomfort.

— And what is that?

It was quite the opposite. This brief question only made me more distressed. How could I get out of this state of confusion in which I had sunk?  And what to say to that: And what. In order to break this silence, I tried:

—I’m not from here—I live in Falls.

Still no reaction from her. Yet she seemed to be hanging on my lips, attentive to my every word, and her intimidating gaze was staring at me. Suddenly, without saying a word, she approached her face a few centimeters from mine. My heart was beating so loud that it rang in my temples. She approached even closer until she placed her lips on mine. I remained frozen on this sweet touch which had the effect of relieving me of all the tension of the last seconds and I sank into a feverish state, a kind of chaos that clouded my mind. Yet I answered his kiss, that delicious and first contact that another girl offered me and that I could not resist. This situation made no sense. I didn’t know her, I didn’t know her name, but her lips were like a kiss magnet. So, I closed my lips on hers. My breath was hot and jerky, but it was stronger than me, I let myself go, as if sucked into a whirlwind that I no longer controlled. Suddenly, she broke contact by hitting me against a car door, and then she stuck to me, leaving me no space to breathe again. My dizziness was getting out of hand. Tommy would never believe me, I was sure, but as soon as I lived, Tommy had no place. Only the bewitching perfumes of this unknown woman who stood against me and made me forget my first name.

I was overwhelmed by emotions, I trembled with all my being. An unusual heat seized my body, blushed my cheeks and made me forget the cold ambient. Her face was glued to mine and I suddenly felt her lips slowly slip on my neck and close on my skin. What I didn’t know in that magical moment was that this sweet feeling would be the beginning of a slow agony. I suffocated to feel his whole body rushing against mine. Maybe it was just a dream, but I refused to wake up. My fingers grazed her neck and closed by measuring the softness of her icy skin. I murmured in a shy voice:

"Are you cold?

She did not answer and seemed to ignore my question.

At least tell me... what your name is.

I could not get an answer. It was then that a great pain tore me from this second state in which I was bogged down. I was not dreaming; it was his teeth that were sinking into my flesh leaving my body in a state of prostration. Little by little, the emotions that had taken hold of me faded. I felt his arm enveloping me and the sweet dizziness of pleasure gradually turned into dizziness. In a flicker, my hand grabbed her hair, my eyelids were getting heavy. I let out a rattle. She didn’t move, held her grip on my body, her lips on my neck. My legs were like cotton wools and my strength gave up over the seconds. In a burst of lucidity, I realized that she was drinking my blood. This crazy idea struck me. It was so implausible. Yet I wavered, held by her powerful arms. Then she stood up. Her clear gaze seemed to pierce my soul. Was I losing my mind or hallucinations? This young woman who stood before me seemed like a chimera straight out of a children’s tale. Her dilated pupils gave a glimpse of irises of azure blue, yet I could have sworn they were hazelnut when I saw her a few minutes earlier, her ajar lips became purple and revealed two sharp canines. She had bitten me, and life was leaving me. I felt her evaporate at every breath, but strangely, I was not afraid. After all, what did I have to lose that was so expensive and precious? I looked at my executioner and did not stop seeing in her a beauty at the same time fierce and fatal. If God existed, he appeared to me in his most charming and cruel form at the same time...

With her eyes half closed, the cold caught me. She laid me on the asphalt and held me against her. Despite the second state in which I found myself, I saw that she bit the inside of her wrist. She pressed it on my lips and the metallic taste of her blood flowed down my throat. I tried to turn my face away, in vain. The more this liquid flowed, the more a gripping pain twisted my stomach. This sweet dream became a horrible nightmare. Strangely, my exhausted body was coming back to life. Spasms were tightening my stomach in violent pain, oppressing my lungs. My breathing became difficult. Every breath burned my windpipe and made me more exhausted. I panicked, and what must have been a semblance of instinct survival awakened in vain hope of freeing me from my suffering. She held me firmly against her to keep me from moving, and my tremors stopped. At that precise second, I could have sworn: my heartbeat was slowing in my chest. My weak body stopped reacting and this sharp pain gradually subsided. My eyelids closed, leaving me as the only image the penetrating gaze of my murderer.

Chapter 2:  The Fire

Death had never frightened me. For me, it was only an abstract image that represented the end of life. As in the fantastic novels I liked to imagine him dressed in his long black dress, coming to mow down the old, the unlucky or the careless. No one had warned me that she would be wearing jeans and a black turtleneck sweater.

What struck me when I opened my eyes was this deafening and regular rolling sound that rang around