Centuries ago...two ageless and terrifying races -- the aristocratic vampires and the feral lycans -- are bound by a cruel, ancestral relationship between master and servant, and eternally separated by the ongoing, violent rivalry between their two species. But unknown to both nobility and enslaved alike, a clandestine -- and forbidden -- affair between the lycan servant Lucian and the beautiful vampire noblewoman Sonja burns brightly with an unbridled passion.
Seeking to escape Sonja's tyrannical father, Viktor, and a future in which their love is considered an abomination, Lucian risks the ever-present machinations of the court and his very life to cast himself and his beloved free of their bonds...a daring tactic that will eventually give all lycans the courage to rise up against their oppressive vampire overlords. New alliances are forged even as the chains of slavery are broken...and all that Lucian and Sonja hold dear will be threatened with utter annihilation....
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
December 29, 2008
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Underworld by Greg Cox
Chapter OneHungaryThe Thirteenth CenturyThe werewolf whimpered in pain as its captors dragged it through the shadowy corridors of the underground dungeon. Silver barbs, embedded deep in the beast's bleeding hide, were affixed to heavy iron chains that weighed down the werewolf's shaggy black form; unlike their albino progenitor, William's successors were covered with fur the color of midnight. Even with its massive head bowed in submission, the monster's pointed ears brushed the low ceiling of the dungeon. Its clawed feet scraped against the dank stone floor as it staggered down the tunnel on its hind legs. Death Dealers, clad in gleaming black plate armor, tugged on the other ends of the chains, being careful to stay out of reach of their captive's razor-sharp fangs and claws. The immense werewolf, more than eight feet tall, towered over the smaller vampires. Additional knights, armed with crossbows and silver truncheons, warily escorted the procession, in the event that the beast was not quite as cowed as it appeared. Too many Death Dealers had seen their immortality end beneath the slathering jaws of an enraged werewolf; no one wanted to take any unnecessary chances with this prisoner until it was safely locked away in its cell. Even a chained wolf could bite.Loathsome animal,Viktor thought. The regal Elder watched with satisfaction as his soldiers led the beast away. Piercing azure eyes peered from his gaunt, clean-shaven face. Sandy blond hair receded from his lofty brow. An aquiline nose distinguished his patrician countenance. A black velvet robe with golden trim clothed his narrow frame. He looked to be roughly fifty by mortal standards, although, like most of the inhabitants of the castle, his true age was measured in centuries.Not for the first time, he pondered whether it was worth the risk to take these monsters alive. His alchemists and advisers insisted that they needed living specimens to experiment upon, in hopes of finding new means to combat their bestial enemies, but Viktor sometimes had his doubts as to whether their efforts were truly necessary. Fire and silver had always served the Death Dealers in the past. What more did they need to rid the world of these wretched beasts?"This way, sire."A jailor gestured to the right, reminding the Elder of his errand here tonight. A bizarre story had reached his ears, one that frankly beggared belief, but which had seemed to demand his personal attention. With Marcus and Amelia presently hibernating beneath the earth, enjoying two centuries of interrupted slumber, Viktor was the sole Elder in command of the coven. As such, it was his solemn duty to investigate anything that might affect their eternal war with the werewolves -- even if, in this case, he suspected he was wasting his time.Surely there must be some mistake,he thought.Such a thing is not possible."Lead on," he instructed the jailor.The club-footed turnkey, whose pasty complexion was even paler than an ordinary vampire's, guided Viktor down a murky subterranean corridor. He held aloft a sputtering torch that did little to dispel the gloomy shadows shrouding the dungeon, while gripping a crossbow with his other hand. Heavy iron bars, reinforced with silver, guarded the dismal cells lining both sides of the passageway. Chains rattled as caged werewolves shuffled behind the sturdy bars. Low growls and angry snarls escaped the cells. Filthy straw littered the cold stone floors. Water dripped down clammy, slime-encrusted brick walls. Arcane runes were inscribed on the greenish-gray masonry. The fetid atmosphere reeked of sweat, piss, offal, and foul wolfen blood. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. Rats and lizards scurried away from their approach.Viktor's nose wrinkled in disgust. He seldom ventured into these noisome depths. "This had best not be an idle rumor," he warned the lumbering jailor.