by Bella Klaus
“Brother David?” I whispered.
Caiman reached for his belt and pulled out another sword. “Who is he, My Lady?”
“One of Kresnik’s failed experiments,” Valentine muttered. “He’s harmless.”
Brother David lay on the floor, flapping his outstretched arms up and down like he was making angels in the snow. We crept past him toward the only other door in the antechamber.
Valentine paused, staring at us both with eyes as hard as amethysts. “Prepare yourself for an attack.”
Images of an even greater ambush than the one downstairs tumbled through my mind, making the room sway. If Kresnik could make Hades and his demons vanish without a trace, then we could suffer the same fate.
“Let me go first,” I blurted.
“Never,” Valentine growled.
“Kresnik won’t dare kill me if it means killing himself,” I said.
Valentine’s jaw clenched, and he jerked his head to the side. I stood straighter, convinced he knew I was right.
I placed a hand on the leather armor covering his bicep. “The worst he can do to me is make me explode, and it will take less than a few minutes to put myself together.” Opening my palm, I showed him once more the miniature scythe I’d carried this entire time. “Let me weaken him with the first blow.”
“Your Majesty has the option of using his superior speed if anything should go wrong,” Caiman said.
Without a word, Valentine stepped aside. “You had better be right.”
I pushed open the door and paused at its threshold, taking in the sight of a thirty-foot-long chamber decorated with an intricate tapestry down its left wall and a fireplace and gilded portraits on its right.
At the far end, across a wooden floor and a ceiling painted with angels, stood a four-poster bed covered in burgundy drapes.
I placed a hand over my mouth, part of me hoping that Valentine had sensed Kresnik’s presence wrong.
Muffled moans echoed across the room, reminding me of the time Martika and I went beneath the glass table at Kresnik’s behest. I glanced from left to right, looking for a dragon, an ifrit… anything that might resemble a trap but found nothing but antique furniture within an ancient bedroom.
Keeping my footsteps as light as I could, I stepped inside. When I didn’t set off an alarm, I took another careful step and then another and another until I reached the fireplace in the middle of the left wall.
“That’s it,” hissed a voice. “Suck that ambrosia from the source. Drink it, and you’ll live forever.”
Flames surged up from the pit of my belly, and I sent Valentine a silent word of thanks for making me remain in this form.
I swallowed down the regurgitated fire and continued toward the bed.
Wood creaked, making me freeze in place, my pulse flickering in and out of existence.
A low rumbling chuckle filled my ears. “You naughty girl.”
With a shudder of disgust, I crept to the foot of the bed, flicked out my scythe to its full length, and flung open the curtains.
Time slowed, then it spluttered to a halt.
Beatrice once told me a story about walking in on her parents when she was nine, finding them in bed together, and having to sit through a lecture on the facts of life and knocking before entering. It had traumatized her for years, but she could now look back at the memory and laugh.
A naked Kresnik lay on his back with his legs splayed out with the equally-as-nude twins kneeling in the middle of his mattress, bent over his erection. One of them pumped it up and down with methodical strokes of her fist as she lapped at the quivering organ, while the other sucked a testicle between her lips.
Bibi sat at the head of the bed, presumably on his face, rocking back and forth without an ounce of passion. She stared at me through dead eyes as though she was only going through the motions for the promise of his ‘ambrosia.’
My mouth dropped open. At least that explained why Kresnik hadn’t noticed us coming in through the door.
Tabby and Gabby were there, as was Bibi, but where was Gigi?
A figure flew out from behind the curtain and wrapped her hands around my neck, filling the air with the scent of burning flesh.
My eyes bulged, and I met Gigi’s dead eyes. Up close, she reminded me of the preternatural prisoners I’d seen in Kresnik’s basement, soulless and without a spark of free will.
I wrapped a hand around her wrist, trying to burn all the way through her flesh, but Valentine appeared behind her and flung her across the room. Gigi flew through the door, landing on Brother David’s prone form.
“She was a zombie?” I could barely say the words.
“Don’t be so judgmental,” said Kresnik’s muffled voice. “I’m not the first person in this room to have ever fucked a corpse, isn’t that right, Hemera?”
The other members of the Rude Girls continued pleasuring Kresnik, oblivious to the fate of their older sister.
“Why did you kill them?” I yelled.
“It was the only way I could get them to do girl-on-girl,” he drawled.
The pulse between my ears pounded louder than the music outside, and my vision tunneled so all I could see was the man I was determined to kill. My flames burned brighter, illuminating the grotesque scene taking place.
“At least now I don’t need to worry about killing anyone as I cleave through this bed,” I said from between clenched teeth.
Valentine placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let him incite you to become careless with rage.”
Kresnik shoved Bibi off his face, making her roll off the mattress like a discarded doll and hit the floor with a heavy thud.
He raised himself onto his elbows and smirked. “Before any of you so much as think of attacking me, understand that I tied my life to Mera’s. Any injury I suffer will fall on her.”
“You’re lying,” I snapped.
“Go on.” He spread his arms wide. “Try it.”
“Could you at least get rid of the girls you killed?” I snarled. “Necromancy isn’t an orgy, it’s a convoluted form of wanking.”
His eyes gleamed with mirth. “Are you jealous?”
“Don’t dignify his conduct with an answer,” said Valentine.
Kresnik chuckled. “Don’t you want to run me through after all the things I did to sweet Hemera in the Realm of the Gods?”
Palpitations raced through my chest. “He’s lying, and I’ll prove it.”
The twins’ bodies fell slack. Kresnik kicked them off the bed and knelt upright on the mattress with his arms outstretched and his hips thrusting back and forth. “I’m seconds away from cumming. All I need is one little nick from you and—”
I sliced through his torso with the reaper scythe. Agony burned across my middle, and I doubled over, hissing through the overwhelming shock.
“Mera!” Valentine grabbed my arm.
“Don’t touch me when I’m like this,” I said through panting breaths.
“You see?” Kresnik hopped off the bed, gathering the light from the room to engulf his body like a catsuit. “No bluff. Whatever hurts me hurts Hemera.”
I shook my head, leaning against the grip of the scythe to keep myself upright. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me. You’re going to die.”
Kresnik tilted his head to the side with the most patronizing smile. “Valentine, I want you to kneel in front of me and beg for my forgiveness.” He brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder. “You’ll do anything to keep Hemera safe, even if it means turning against the Supernatural Council to secure my rule of Great Britain.”
Valentine growled.
My heart clenched.
“When I discovered that Coral had linked our bodies with her blood, making it impossible for me to land a blow on her worthless carcass, I thought of a way to work something even more dastardly on you and retrieve the use of my phoenix.”
“Nobody’s listening to your evil monologue.” I swung my scythe at the bulge protruding from h
is crotch, making his steps falter.
Pain exploded between my legs, a slicing agony that cut through me like thunderbolts. What the hell? How could it hurt so much when I didn’t even have a penis?
“Mera.” Valentine’s voice broke. “Stop this.”
Kresnik’s eyes danced with sick amusement.
“Valentine’s greatest vulnerability was obvious,” he drawled. “No matter how much we starved him at first, or how much we plotted to anger him enough to snuff out your life, he kept you alive.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Kresnik grabbed my face. With a snarl, Valentine punched him backward, but the pain hit me like a wrecking ball to the temple. I staggered back with a scream.
How was he doing this? I hadn’t felt his injuries when we’d returned from the Realm of the Gods, but he had been unconscious, and my flames had been scattered into little pieces.
Was it like my connection with Hades, who would only feel my pain if he hurt me directly or via a third party? I gulped over and over, trying to figure it out.
When Kresnik had crash-landed into Hyde Park as a dragon, he’d inflicted that on himself. But if I attacked him, it was me who felt the full force of his pain.
“Morata.” Valentine’s voice was heavy with regret.
Kresnik tutted. “Not very bright, is he?”
“What do you want?” Valentine growled.
“Your complete and utter obedience, just as I once had your father’s.” Kresnik folded his arms across his chest. “You will announce your victory to the Supernatural Council, and transport me and a small team of soldiers through the wards in your vehicle.”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Kresnik growled. “You will escort me into the Council’s secure room, and I will take care of its leaders.”
I turned to Valentine and shrieked, “Tell him no.”
Valentine stood as still as death, not breathing, not blinking, not uttering a word. Caiman remained in the doorway, waiting for orders.
My breaths came in shallow rasps. The Supernatural Council had its faults—they were ruthless, pedantic, cruel, and treacherous—but Valentine couldn’t betray them. Not for me. They protected the citizens of Logris and strived to avoid war between humans and supernaturals.
Kresnik rubbed his chin. “Alternatively, you can persist in your attempts at killing the unkillable and let little Hemera suffer the consequences. Your choice.”
“I’d rather die and drag you down with me,” I spat.
Kresnik tilted his head to the side, grinning with sickening triumph. “I have fettered our souls so inextricably that I can tether you to this plain. Any attempts to end your life will fail.”
Despair washed through my system like acid, burning the backs of my eyes. He wasn’t bluffing. Three separate healers had confirmed the strength of our bond compared to the one I shared with Valentine, but only one had claimed to be able to weaken my connection with Kresnik.
I blinked over and over, trying to wash the monster from my vision, but his triumphant smirk only widened.
“Why?” My voice broke.
He raised his brows. “Do you have no idea of a phoenix’s magical capabilities? Of course you don’t. Not even my brethren had the foresight to see them as more than beautiful creatures made of fire.”
My gaze met Valentine’s. ‘Attack us,’ I mouthed. ‘Kill us both.’
He gave his head a minute shake.
I clenched my teeth. Was he waiting to hear the rest of Kresnik’s diabolical monologue?
“It was the power of a phoenix that created humankind out of clay.” Kresnik’s voice rose over the roar of a dragon from the floor below. “That same power I used to elevate humans into supernaturals, and now, it will raise me higher than any god who ever existed!”
Valentine met my eyes again and flicked his gaze down to my left hand, back to my face, and back down to my left. My brows drew together, and I drowned out the rest of Kresnik’s ravings to focus on what Valentine was trying to communicate.
If the scythe didn’t kill Kresnik, then maybe something else might hurt him? I fumbled into the pocket of my cloak and nicked my finger on something sharp—the solid flame dagger Lieutenant Cien had tried to use to assassinate Valentine.
My eyes bulged, and I glanced at Valentine to find him nodding.
I shook my head. Solid flame only killed supernatural beings who didn’t wield fire.
When Valentine nodded again, I slipped the dagger from the pocket and waited to strike. I’d have to trust that Valentine knew something about the weapon that I didn’t.
Kresnik spread his arms wide. “Now, will you join me and secure Hemera’s continued existence, or will you die in a futile effort?”
Valentine bared his fangs, his eyes turning as red as freshly spilled blood. “There’s a third option,” he snarled. “One where Mera and I put you down forever, and we spend the rest of our days together with you a distant memory.”
“Then you choose death.” Kresnik shrugged.
The back wall melted away, revealing a dozen clay figures, each six and a half feet tall. They marched toward Valentine and Caiman like zombies.
“Impressive, aren’t they?” Kresnik drawled. “My clay figures aren’t undead, because they were never alive. Each is powered by my will and will engulf your bodies to remake you to my wishes.”
My throat dried. This was just as Epimetheus had said when he’d ranted at me in the Realm of the Gods. He and Prometheus made humans out of clay, so it had to be possible to remake Valentine out of clay.
The door leading to the antechamber slammed shut, shoving Caiman out, and flames engulfed the walls. With the fireplace already burning in the room and the smoke that had seeped in from the battle downstairs, I couldn’t tell if this new development was real or a vision.
I turned to Kresnik, my voice trembling. “Tamper with Valentine, and I’ll return you to that bloody eagle.”
He wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me into his chest. “If I didn’t need constant use of your phoenix, I would let my clay remake you with a better attitude and larger breasts.”
I still hadn’t recovered from Kresnik and the undead Rude Girls, so his comment blew over me like a draft.
“Valentine, run,” I screamed.
One of the creatures lunged at Valentine, but he darted to the side, only for another to appear behind him.
I slammed my elbow into Kresnik’s side, wincing at the painful jab in my ribs.
“Fool,” Kresnik snarled. “I made vampires. Vampires and shifters and mages and witches. I made you all out of humans. Don’t you think my new creations would surpass the powers I gave you?”
“Mera.” Valentine darted across the room, dodging the clay figures. “Use the dagger.”
Kresnik chuckled. “A solid flame blade empowers fire users, Valentine. How could it possibly—”
I rammed it into Kresnik’s gut. Agonizing heat sliced through my belly, making my nerves scream. I doubled over, gasping through the shock of pain.
The clay figures froze. Kresnik released his arm from my waist and staggered back, his eyes wide.
“How?” he rasped.
I stared down at the dagger, which was now coated in Kresnik’s blood.
A breath caught in the back of my throat. Wait a minute. How on earth was he bleeding when none of my attacks had harmed him until now?
“That’s the trouble with light mages.” Valentine walked across the room with his hand outstretched toward me. “They always forget that vampires have acute senses of hearing and smell.”
“What?” Kresnik tripped over the corpse of a Rude Girl, and the white suit vanished, leaving him naked and bleeding.
A line of dried blood ran down his legs from his crotch, which was missing both his penis and testicles, and the gash I’d made across his chest with the scythe was already healing.
My mouth gaped open. The only wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding yet was the one I
’d made in his gut. “Those times I attacked you—”
“Of course I felt the pain, you twit,” he snapped. “Little cuts mean nothing after thirty thousand years of being eaten alive by that fucking scavenger.”
Valentine sniffed. “I commend you for your stiff upper lip, but you failed to disguise the scent of your blood. I knew all along that those attacks were damaging your body.”
“And the solid flame dagger?” Kresnik rasped.
“If you wish to know, then you must answer a question of mine.”
Kresnik coughed out a mouthful of blood. “Name it.”
“What did you do with my father’s soul?” Valentine asked.
Kresnik stretched out a trembling hand toward the drapes around the side of the four-poster and wrapped his fingers around the fabric. The entire curtain tore down, making him lose his balance and tumble into the bed.
“Shit.” He groped around its surface until he reached one of the wooden posts and pulled himself up to standing. “Antonius was a very powerful vampire. Clever, too.”
Curiosity burned my insides hotter than the flames that made up my ifrit body. I glanced at Valentine, who glowered at Kresnik with his nostrils flared.
“Where is my father’s soul?” Valentine growled.
“Antonius must have gotten my true identity from Hades.” Kresnik swayed on his feet, pointing in Valentine’s direction. “He came at me with both the helm and the trident.”
Valentine stepped toward Kresnik. “What happened?”
“But I always think ahead.” Kresnik raised a bloody hand and tapped the side of his nose. “Antonius had commissioned a newborn with a Neutral woman. When she was heavily pregnant with a daughter, my people took her hostage to lure out the Vampire King.”
“What?” I whispered.
Kresnik laughed, bringing up mouthfuls of blood. “The great King Antonius sacrificed himself for a worthless daughter.”
“Then you killed them.”
“Only Antonius, who I raised from the dead,” Kresnik said with a gurgling cough. “Antonius kept the Neutral woman somewhere in the human world, where she gave birth to the girl.”
“What happened to my sister?” Valentine asked.