He will use his very last breath to get what he wants.
3,500 years ago in a legendary city, a boy chosen to become high priest is initiated into the secrets of life
and death. But when invaders savage and enslave the city, the young priest uses his occult powers for a horrific revenge. Thus begins a blood-thirst that perpetuates him through the ages. Now, in the timeless city of Varanasi, a young New York couple meets a handsome and alluring yogi, unsuspecting of his real identity, or that he sees in them his chance for starting yet a new life.
Back in the princely chamber, Avikura threw himself face up on the bed, hands behind his head, and watched the room spin. It wasn’t so much that he was dizzy, as that he could feel everything moving—the earth, the moon, the stars—he could feel the pull of these orbs through the walls and ceiling, could sense the light they emitted and reflected as he might moving currents of air, watch them flowing in and out of the chamber’s colors, which themselves shone more vibrant and luminous than ever. When he closed his eyes, his lids seemed transparent; he could still see the light and shadows of the room as through a scrim. He became aware of the miniscule veins in his lids, saw the blood coursing through them. His mind followed the blood’s passage deeper into his body, through the arteries and towards the heart, the sound of which grew loud as a drum. All at once he understood what was happening. He had instinctively fed upon that which was most alimentary to him—his own blood. Therein was the vital force that had for so long sustained him, and that from this alien body he still craved and sought out like a newborn its mother’s milk. It was a discovery that men did not naturally come by, for how many had the opportunity to feed upon their own bodies as they would animals? And yet everything else men turned to for nourishment was clearly a substitute for that most perfect food, one they normally couldn’t consume without destroying themselves. In Avikura’s case, not only his physical power, but also the magical power he had cultivated and harnessed in his incarnation as priest had been distilled into that blood. It was as an elixir worthy of a god.