by Bella Klaus
“I assumed it was ten, like how much everyone else has to pay,” I muttered.
Beowulf shook his head. “Valentine only wanted them to contribute a paltry amount toward their upkeep, and they tore the place up, set everything on fire, and we had to lock the suckers down.”
I leaned against the Shifter King’s broad back, not bothering to reply. If the Witch Queen lowered taxes to one percent, there would be celebrations across the streets. The Royal House of Sargon had subsidized their comfortable lifestyles to the point that they had become spoiled and entitled.
When I became Valentine’s consort, we’d have to look into ways of spreading that wealth across Logris, not just keeping it to a bunch of vampires who didn’t know when they had it good. Until then, we had Kresnik to contend with, not to mention the machinations of Hades and Prince Draconius.
A limousine sped past, making Beowulf swerve onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing a tree.
“Fuck!” He cut the engine and glared at the back of the car that continued speeding toward the palace.
“Are you alright?” A tall vampire rushed to our side, wearing the uniform of the palace guard. As soon as he met my eyes, he stood to attention and paled. “My Lady Phoenix!”
“Someone tried to knock us off the road.”
The vampire turned his head and squinted. “That would be Prince Draconius, My Lady. Apparently, the wards keeping him out of Lamia have relaxed. I expect he’ll go straight to the palace.”
Beowulf turned to me and scowled. “What now?”
I pulled off my cloak, raised the motorbike’s back seat, and stuffed it inside. “It’s time to teach that menace a lesson.”
Chapter Ten
I backed away from Beowulf’s motorbike and toed off my shoes. My gaze fixed on the limousine accelerating down Caedes Road toward the wrought iron gates of the Lamia Palace. Whatever enchantment the Supernatural Council was using to keep Valentine behind bars had temporarily disabled Prince Draconius’s banishment. Now, the wretched vampire was on his way to take control of Kain.
“What are you doing?” Beowulf said.
“Meeting him before he gets to the door.” I pushed my magic out into my meridians and shifted.
The scent of burned wood filled my nostrils, and my heart sank a little at the loss of the outfit Valentine had purchased for me in Atlantis. Raising my wings, I leaped above the cherry trees, singeing their blossoms as I passed the vast canopy.
My gaze darted to the limousine’s brake lights, which glowed red as the vehicle stopped at the palace’s gates. I pulled my wings back, slicing through the air with rapid wing beats to reach the front steps before Prince Draconius got a chance to strut through the doors.
Several feet below, an engine revved, filling the air with its rumbling growl. I kept my gaze straight ahead, not daring to decrease my speed in case Prince Draconius managed to bully the guards into letting him inside.
Despite his young appearance, he was still an ancient vampire and still a high-ranking member of the Royal House of Sargon. I imagined that everyone around the palace knew him from the time he served as regent after King Antonius had been killed and before Valentine took the throne.
The brake lights turned off, the gates opened, and the limousine continued down the long drive that led toward the stone steps.
“Damn it,” I squawked and flapped harder.
According to legend, phoenixes could teleport, but I guessed the proper term was flicker. Now that I had my magic, surely I was capable of doing the same? I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on moving my body from one location to the other. My flames danced, feeling as though pieces of breeze meandered through the spaces between my molecules. The air shifted, and I floated down to a stone floor.
“Mera?” asked Valentine.
My eyes snapped open and met Valentine’s concerned gaze. He’d changed into a white shirt unbuttoned to the sternum that brought out his bronze skin, revealing tantalizing glimpses of his chest.
An outraged squawk tore from my beak. The magic had transported me to Valentine’s side, even when I hadn’t been focusing on him. Drawing the power back into my chakras, I shifted into a woman.
“Shit,” I hissed.
“What’s happened?”
I held out my left hand. “The engagement ring is messing with my ability to flicker. Could you hold on to it for a second?”
“Are you trying to teleport?” He took my hand and slipped off the ring.
I nodded. “Something’s happened to the wards around Lamia, and Prince Draconius just passed the palace gates. I think he’s going to take advantage of your temporary imprisonment and force Kain to take the throne.”
Valentine’s eyes bulged, their irises turning red. “What?”
“I’ll return as soon as I can.” I pushed my magic out, transformed, and focused on the location of my most painful memory—the palace steps.
My vision filled with flames, and the world turned inside out. When the fire cleared, I stood on those stone steps, facing the courtyard, where the red limousine waited with its engine running. All the better for snatching innocent young men from palaces and spiriting them away.
“In the name of the Royal House of Sargon, I command you to let me inside,” said a voice that set my teeth on edge.
I rose to the sky, spinning around to face the palace’s front door, and squawked.
Caiman stood in the doorway with a dozen guards, including security wizards holding six-foot-tall staffs. Maybe that was what Valentine had meant when he asked the council to contact his butler. It was probably code for doubling the amount of guards around the palace’s entrance.
In front of the men stood Prince Draconius in a red suit that was half tin-soldier, half Michael Jackson in the Thriller video. He turned around, his café-au-lait complexion paling to a dull gray. “You,” he hissed. “Stay away, foul creature.”
“As you can see, Our Lady Phoenix has arrived on His Majesty’s behest to command you to leave the palace.”
The ancient vampire’s face twisted into an ugly rictus of rage. “Come any closer, and I will end you, monster. Kresnik may have disappeared with his filthy spawn, but I knew you would both return.”
A couple of the guards broke formation, seeming like this was the first they’d heard of Kresnik’s return. I swooped down with an ear-piercing shriek.
Prince Draconius reached into the depths of his jacket and pulled out a trident. “Stand back. This ancient artifact was fashioned by Arges the Cyclops who made the weapons to defeat the Titans. One strike in your fiery belly, and it will extinguish your life.”
Annoyance prickled across my flames. How dare he research methods to kill me when he could have been looking for ways to end Kresnik? I slashed my wings through the air and rose into the sky.
“That’s it,” he sneered. “Run, you cowardly little shit.”
An idea slotted into place—something Kain had suggested—but I shoved it aside. If I was ever to become Valentine’s consort by marriage, I couldn’t have the vampires see me raining molten bird shit on his head.
Instead, I gathered my saliva into a ball, tilted my head down, and spat. Prince Draconius dodged, letting the liquid sizzle on the stone steps. White smoke exploded on impact, landing on the leg of his red-striped military pants.
“Disgusting,” he snarled.
I flew in a circle with my wings outstretched and dove toward the ancient vampire, daring him to hurl that trident. If it really was the artifact wielded by Poseidon, it might have the power to negate my fire magic. But once he threw the weapon, it would be out of his hands.
Prince Draconius pulled back his arm, and I flickered to the other side of the palace, landing by the trees. The trident flew through the air and landed in a pillar.
I charged at him from behind, this time without a war cry. He spun, ducked, and ran toward his trident, but a silver-haired vampire was already holding it aloft. It was one of Valentine’s brothers, Sylvester.
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br /> “What do you think?” He turned to his blond sibling. “Real or replica?”
“I say it’s a fake,” Constantine drawled.
Ferdinand stepped out from behind the line of guards. “I say we should test it on Uncle Dracs and see if he fills with water.”
“How dare you mock me when I mentored you ingrates,” Prince Draconius snarled.
The three brothers exchanged amused glances, and Ferdinand snorted. I clacked my beak. How typical of them to turn up after I’d tricked their uncle into losing his weapon. Not that I was complaining. If the trident really had been made by the same person who had created the Helm of Hades, we had another weapon we could use against Kresnik.
“Have you looked in the mirror lately, Dracs?” Sylvester stepped into his uncle’s personal space.
The two vampires were of an equal size, but Prince Draconius’s magic flared a little more powerfully than Sylvester’s. Fortunately, Constantine and Ferdinand stood at his side, providing backup.
A rumble sounded in the distance. I glanced to find King Beowulf riding toward us down the drive. He stopped behind the limousine but didn’t dismount, instead watching the spectacle playing out between the brothers and their uncle.
“That trident belongs to me,” Prince Draconius snarled.
“Then we’ll take it to pay for the property damage.” Sylvester bounced it on his hand. “Any funds left over from pawning this relic will of course be returned to you wherever you’re staying.”
“You cannot treat me with such disrespect.”
“You’ll find that we can, Uncle.” Sylvester said the word like an insult. “We tolerated you when this branch of our Royal House fell into disgrace after our father died, but Valentine is the only vampire in history who has been cured of preternaturalism.”
“Of all the beings in the Supernatural World, he has won the loyalty of the phoenix who will bring down Kresnik,” said Ferdinand.
If I had brows in this form, they would have drawn together at the prince’s words. Did he and his brothers think I had special powers that could work against Kresnik? I barely understood the ones I’d started to master, and Kresnik was as old as sin. I flew overhead in a circle, trying to look as menacing as I could without damaging any more property.
“Alright,” Prince Draconius said. “That fiery harlot can’t guard this palace forever. When I return, it will be on the authority of King Sargon de Akkadian himself.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Constantine stifled a yawn. “Valentine was struck off the family tree. Lamia is no longer associated with the Royal House.”
Prince Draconius stiffened. “What?”
Ferdinand chuckled. “It would seem that Grandfather didn’t deem you worthy enough to receive notice of your own expulsion.”
Valentine’s uncle glanced around at Caiman and the guards, stepping backward down the stairs toward the limousine. I’d once been in a position like that—disturbed, shocked, humiliated by such a brutal rejection that I’d been rendered speechless. My heart ached. Not for Prince Draconius, who deserved everything he’d gotten and worse, but for the time Valentine and I wasted while being torn apart by the machinations of Kresnik.
“This is not the last you’ll hear of me.”
“I sincerely hope not, Uncle,” said Ferdinand. “You’re much more fun as a disgraced outcast without allies.”
Constantine clapped him on the back.
Prince Draconius stalked toward the limousine, his hands balled into fists. As he opened its door, he turned to his nephews and snarled, “One day, Valentine will see you three for the resource-draining reprobates you are, and you will also be as destitute as I.”
Sylvester placed his hands on his brothers’ shoulders and walked down the steps. I perched atop the palace’s portico to watch the last section of the showdown.
“Leave Logris while you still hold a shred of dignity.”
Prince Draconius bared his teeth. “My ally on the Supernatural Council assures me that plans are in place to secure my rulership of Lamia. When that time comes, I will strip you and your useless brothers of everything, including that den of iniquity you call a nightclub.”
“Then we had better make sure you die before you get the chance.”
The older vampire raised a hand, the force of his magic throwing Sylvester up the stairs and into his brothers. I lifted my wings, rising toward the sky, not knowing if I should attack, or wait and see what would happen next.
Bolts of magic raced down the stairs, hitting Prince Draconius on the chest and arms and legs. Without waiting for his limousine, the ancient vampire sped down the driveway and out through the palace gates.
The limousine pulled out and followed.
I swooped down beside Beowulf and folded my wings across my back.
“Well, well, well.” The Shifter King’s gaze swept up and down my plumage with a leer that ruffled my feathers. “So that’s why King Valentine is so attached to you.”
I squawked at him to be quiet, raising my wing toward the storage compartment within the back seat.
“You want your cloak?”
I bobbed my head up and down.
The wind shifted, and Caiman stepped to the motorcycle’s side. “Allow me, Your Majesty.” The butler turned to the guards and vampire princes on the palace steps. “Please give Our Lady Phoenix privacy to revert back to her alternative form.”
Beowulf huffed, keeping his gaze to the handlebars, and the guards around the palace’s double doors turned without a word. The three vampire princes stood in a line with their arms folded across their chests, looking as though the butler couldn’t possibly be referring to them.
“Your Highnesses?” asked Caiman.
Constantine’s blond brows rose.
“You are in the presence of His Majesty’s soulmate,” the butler said, his voice tight. “Which, as you know, is a connection deeper than marriage.”
I shifted on my feet, trying not to think about the wider implications of the soul bond I shared with Kresnik. It was bad enough to have been attacked by my own father, but marriage? I shuddered.
“Fine.” Sylvester slammed the handle of the trident into the stone steps and turned around.
Constantine and Ferdinand followed, and Caiman held up my cloak and lowered his eyes. After pulling back my magic, I turned around, slipped my arms into the garment, and let the butler place it over my shoulders.
“His Majesty has taken the liberty of filling the queen’s dressing room with your clothing,” said Caiman.
“Thank you.” I placed my hand on the butler’s shoulder and offered him a warm smile.
“His Majesty told me about the damage done to your memory prior to the ball.” The ancient vampire’s voice rasped with regret. “For what it’s worth, I am deeply sorry for my part in the hurt you suffered.”
Something in my chest loosened. Maybe it was the knowledge that Valentine’s closest allies had accepted me as his mate. Maybe it was because for once, since the day we were engaged, I stood on their side against an enemy.
I met Caiman’s watery eyes. “It means a lot to hear those words, even though they aren’t necessary.”
The butler turned his gaze to Beowulf. “Is there something I can help you with, Your Majesty?”
“King Valentine needed a favor.”
“Indeed.”
“I need to take Kain somewhere out of Logris,” I said for the benefit of anyone listening, including Prince Draconius, who could have doubled back and hidden himself anywhere on the palace grounds.
“Will you both follow me?” Caiman ascended the stairs. “One of the staff will park your motorcycle while we prepare Master Kain for his departure.”
Beowulf and I followed the butler up the stairs in silence, heading toward the palace’s double doors. I kept my gaze high, making sure to avoid eye contact with the trio of vampire princes who had attacked me on more than one occasion. After all the accusations they’d hurled at me over the months, I was
n’t ready to believe their attitude toward me had changed.
Sylvester was the first to approach. “Mera?”
I continued up the stairs. “Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re back,” he said without a trace of sarcasm.
“It looks like we should have listened to you when you said you could help Valentine,” Constantine said.
“He was even more miserable without you this time than before,” added Ferdinand.
Memories of being hunted around a mausoleum by four rabid vampires assaulted my mind. Their taunting laughter, their grabbing hands, along with their cruel accusations and insults. Part of me wanted to lash out at the princes and rage at them for their part in delaying Valentine’s return, but it looked like they were trying to make a connection.
That didn’t mean I’d let them off easy.
I paused, casting my gaze over Constantine and then Sylvester and then Ferdinand. The red-haired vampire stiffened as though expecting a rebuke.
“The first few times we met, you were under the influence of the blood lure, but do you know how much of this mess you could have avoided by giving me a chance?”
Ferdinand was the first to lower his head. Constantine’s lips tightened, his gaze dropping to my shoulder, but Sylvester met my eyes.
“When Valentine’s memories settled, he brought us all into his study and told us that we could have helped you unlock your magic that evening and brought him to life by the morning,” Sylvester said, his voice heavy.
“Because of us, you both fell into a trap that resulted in all the political upheaval we suffered in Lamia,” said Ferdinand.
“And you would never have gone to the Flame,” added Constantine.
My lips tightened. Aurora and Father Jude would have found a way to steal my magic, or they would have used someone else’s power for Kresnik’s resurrection, and he still would have come after me.
“We’re sorry,” Constantine said.
“All of you?” I asked.
Sylvester stepped forward, making me move closer to Beowulf. “Our behavior toward you was as unseemly as it was unfair. Especially mine.”