Queen of Shadows Read Online Free PDF

hot August day into a sauna that drove even the most stalwart Sixth Street partiers indoors.
    The East Side was the poor side of town, the minority side, and there was nobody around at this hour but whores, dealers, and apostate vampires fleeing from justice.
    Wallace raced along Stassney, eastbound, past houses in various states of disrepair. He hated this neighborhood and the people in it. Working families lived here, mostly Mexican immigrants and the sons of immigrants, fat wives who come morning would herd their children and hungover husbands out the door to mass en español . He passed a corner store with a white-painted trailer outside that boasted pollo al carbon , and indeed the greasy smell of roasted chicken filled his nostrils as he dove off the road and down past the storefront.
    The last time he’d fed was on a cute little college girl in town for the second summer session at ACC. He remembered the way she’d slid to the ground, her fierce struggles ceasing, as the last few drops of her blood traveled down his throat. He’d left her corpse faceup in the middle of the street, knowing who would find it and how angry they would be. It was sort of the equivalent of shooting the governor the finger.
    Finally he couldn’t run anymore. Pain stabbed through both his sides and his legs started to give out on him. He blundered into a chain-link fence and grabbed it, holding himself up while he wheezed.
    None of this would have happened if Auren were still Prime. When Auren had ruled the night over the southern United States, there were no rules—he could kill when he pleased, who he pleased, how he pleased. Auren had been the best kind of Prime: vicious, passionate about the hunt, with a blatant disdain for human life. That was perfect, in Wallace’s mind. Everyone had thought Auren was invincible.
    Not quite. Fifteen years ago, a blade had swung, and after that everything went wrong. Now killing humans was a capital offense.
    Wallace had no use for such bullshit, and he wasn’t alone. There were others who resented the new order, and the time was fast approaching when the old would be new again. He’d planned to be at the head of the pack, reclaiming his place in the world, but somehow he’d been found and followed.
    He listened intently for a moment, expecting footsteps but knowing there would be none. The Prime’s inner circle of warriors, the Elite, were silent hunters with no desire save dispensing the Prime’s particular version of justice.
    Half-drunk with fear, he looked around. It was as good a place as any to die. They’d be here any minute, and his blood would spatter all over the concrete.
    “Good evening, Wallace,” came a sickeningly familiar voice.
    He raised his head, dragged himself to his feet, and smiled.
    He was surrounded. Half the Court had turned out to execute him. It was kind of flattering, but then, if you pissed off the Prime you tended to be flattered by the grandeur of your own death.
    A woman stepped forward: petite, Asian, with that frail-looking build that was almost convincing until her hands closed around your throat. She fixed her almond-shaped eyes on him, dispassionate.
    “Evening, Faith,” he replied hoarsely. “Fancy meeting you here.”
    “Are you finished running?” she asked. She, like all the rest of the Elite, traveled armed, but the gleaming steel blade at her hip stayed sheathed for the moment. If she wanted him to die quickly, she could have had him shot with a crossbow. If she had wanted him dead already, she could have walked forward and parted his head from his shoulders with her sword. It was the standard form of execution.
    She did neither of those things. She stood and waited.
    By the time Wallace realized what she was waiting for, the crowd was already parting, and any thought of bribery or clemency vanished. He was well and truly fucked.
    “Sire,” Wallace said tiredly. “Glad you could make it.” A man in black emerged from the darkness as if it