Captive of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 2)

by Bella Klaus

  Jogging backward several steps, I inhaled deep breaths, psyching myself up to power through the door. Something on the other side of the building creaked, making my pulse quicken. It was time to move. Charging forward, I slammed my shoulder into the door, ignoring the explosion of pain across my joint.

  It opened about ten inches before getting stuck again.

  I bit down on my lip. The old me might have tried to squeeze through, but the memory of getting stuck between iron bars with Inferno hounds at my back still plagued the back of my mind. I jogged back a few paces and charged at the door again.

  This time, I managed to shift it another three inches, and I slipped into a blackened stairwell that filled my sinuses with ash and the scent of brimstone.

  Sunlight streamed down from the broken roof, illuminating the enclosure’s burned and crumbling walls that extended down to a spiral staircase. A whistling breeze made tiny ash particles swirl through the air, making me pull up my hoodie and hold my breath. A faint jagged energy radiated off the walls, telling me that this had been no ordinary fire.

  I crept forward, as tentative as a spooked cat. A demon must have attacked this house. That, or humans had been playing with ouija boards and summoned a demon they couldn’t contain. Charred wood crunched underfoot, with the occasional chunks at the ends of the floorboards falling away if I misstepped. My throat dried, and my ears filled with the boom of my frantic pulse.

  I splayed an arm out for balance, and told myself I could do this.

  When I reached the top of the stairs, I kicked away some of the debris to reveal stone treads that looked like they had been built into the walls. I exhaled a long breath, relieved that I would no longer have to walk over wood. Curls of rust protruded from its metallic handrail, and the balusters supporting the rail looked like they would crumble with the merest touch.

  Cursing myself for not thinking to bring gloves, I pulled down the cuff of my hoodie to form a shield between my hand and the wall. I took the stairs with the same care as I had negotiated the burned landing. When the steps didn’t so much as sag underfoot, I picked up my pace and continued down the stairs. Things were looking good. The last thing I’d want was to wake Valentine and get him frazzled coming after me.

  At the bottom of the stairs, a door leading to the outside hung diagonally off its hinges, letting in daylight. My gaze landed on a pile of broken and burned furniture stacked against the wall, but it looked harmless compared to the upstairs. I kept to the edges of the downstairs landing and walked the long route along the walls, avoiding small piles of debris to reach the door.

  As I crept toward the door, my chest filled with warm triumph, and the scent of trees and grass and wet earth filled my nostrils. A few more steps, and I would be free.

  I scooted out through the door and stepped out into a terrace of blackened paving stones that stretched thirty feet around the wing. A yellow jeep with oversized tires parked in the middle of the space, and I checked its number plate, noting that it was recent. No moss or leaves or debris lay on its hood, making it look like it had been recently left here. I glanced over my shoulder at the lopsided door, wondering if its driver was still in the building.

  Beyond the terrace was what I could only describe as an English jungle. Stinging nettles grew among brambles along its borders and what had once been tall trees and dense shrubs now lay under a blanket of climbing plants. Somewhere within the thicket, I glimpsed the glass roof of a large greenhouse, but it had been swallowed by vegetation.

  I walked around the burned-out wing’s perimeter and rounded the corner to find the garden even more overgrown around the front. Frustration welled up in my insides. “How the hell am I going to get through this?”

  Maybe I needed to steal the jeep, but without keys, I’d be sitting in the front seat until Valentine woke to return me to my luxury prison. The little he’d said to me last night implied he wouldn’t let me leave.

  The distant sound of traffic drifted from the other side of the building, and I jogged alongside its front. If there was a driveway or something with less vegetation, I might find a landmark and somewhere to stay while Kain came to get me.

  As I hurried toward the sound of cars, the tall building blurred along my left side, transforming from charred to crumbling to covered in ivy. Even the paving stones beneath my feet became slippery with moss.

  I sent Valentine a silent thanks for the jeans and Timberlands, and continued toward the moss-covered pair of shipping containers I had seen the night before. Behind them was another car, but this one had ivy growing around its burned carcass. I shuddered at the thought of what had happened to this place and wondered how Valentine had acquired it.

  On my right, a path opened up within the thick growth of plants, stretching down to what appeared to be a single-track road. My heart soared, and I slipped my hand in the pocket of my hoodie and pulled out my phone.

  I called Kain’s number, and he picked up after three rings.

  “Where are you?” His voice was sharp.

  “With Valentine, but I don’t know.”

  Kain spluttered. “You saw him?”

  “Remember that nice lady you woke up early this morning?” I said, my voice dripping with a reprimand. “Valentine stole me from her spare bedroom.”

  Kain paused a few moments. “Sorry about your friend. Is Valentine alright?”

  “His body is talking and moving if that’s what you mean,” I replied. “He’s not the same man from before.”

  “But you said you could restore him with your phoenix fire.”

  Exhaling a long breath, I tilted my head up to the cloudy sky. Nobody apart from Kresnik truly knew what happened to a preternatural vampire after they were turned.

  I had imagined Valentine’s soul stuck within his body, tortured as it was forced to continue its undead existence, but Valentine seemed to have a mind of his own. If I burned him, which version of him would rise from the ashes?

  “That’s the theory,” I muttered. “But I can’t bring him back to life until I get back my power and reunite him with his heart.”

  “Send me your location,” he said. “I told Lazarus I was working on something to save Valentine. Let me find a healer and bring them to you.”

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth, remembering how Lazarus had caught up with me after I’d left the mausoleum and his threat to heal his injuries by drinking my blood. “Don’t tell him—”

  “I know, I know,” Kain drawled. “You’re irresistible to all vampires.”

  My lips pursed into a tight line. He said that as though he was humoring a narcissist. Shaking off the annoyance, I pulled the phone off my ear, fired up the app Google Maps, and shared my location.

  “Did you get it?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding hesitant. “What’s this place, then?”

  I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the scale of the building. It was three stories tall and about half the size of Kensington Palace, constructed in a Georgian style of white stucco that reminded me of the buildings around Grosvenor Square. The only difference was the level of disrepair. The external plaster was now a dark brown, burned along the end I had passed, crumbling to expose brown bricks in its middle and swallowed in climbing plants at the far end.

  “It looks like an abandoned hospital, but it could easily be a stately home. Whatever it is, some demon must have attacked it and either killed or driven out its residents. Faint traces of its energy still linger on the walls.”

  Kain whistled. “He kept you there overnight?”

  I turned back toward the driveway and paused a few beats before answering. “Don’t tell anyone, but there’s a penthouse up there. Valentine stocked it with food and clothes. I think he planned on keeping me here until I unlocked my magic.”

  “But you can’t do it without help,” he said.

  “Not without the help of a healer to extract the firestone from my blood. Oh, and Valentine’s heart is missing. Can you find it?”<
br />
  “Alright.” Kain sighed. “His brothers are still bent on destroying his body so he doesn’t turn out like their dad, and I won’t risk telling them what we’re doing.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. Despite Kain’s rough edges, he was the person I trusted most to help me save Valentine. Kain didn’t know enough about the Supernatural World to question what I had told him about phoenix flames. That, or he would do anything to get Valentine back.

  “I’ll come as soon as I can with a healer who can separate powdered stone from blood,” he said.

  A large, furry head poked through the stinging nettles and stared at me through jewel-green eyes. Golden fur wrapped around the feline face, dotted with an array of black marks. I didn’t know Macavity’s larger form well enough to recognize him by sight, but this leopard was about the same size as the one who had slept on the bed with me in the Notting Hill safe house. I stopped walking and gulped.

  Was this Macavity or a different liger-sized leopard?

  “Got to go.” Without taking the time to hang up, I slipped the phone into my pocket and kept still.

  Whoever this was, it had to be a cat who had turned into a leopard—just like Macavity. And just like Macavity, he would have the instincts of a house cat. This meant I couldn’t afford to twitch, or act in any way, shape or form like a chew toy.

  The huge beast crouched low, looking ready to pounce.

  “Macavity?” I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Is that you?”

  The leopard’s eyes narrowed, and it prowled toward me, its thick muscles bunching and flexing beneath its spotted fur. Gulping hard, I forced myself not to take a step back. Perhaps the curse making my blood so appetizing to vampires had changed my scent, and Macavity no longer recognized me.

  The leopard swiped a pink tongue around its mouth, making my pulse quicken.

  I held out my arms and pushed as much magic as I could into my palms, making them glow brighter than traffic lights… but there was still no fire. “Stay back!”

  It paused.

  “Good. Why don’t you sit down, and we can have a conversation.”

  The leopard hesitated a moment before lowering its haunches to the ground. When it sat like this, the leopard was nearly as tall as me.

  “Alright,” I said in my calmest voice. “If I lower my hands and turn down the flames, will you be good and stay still?”

  Its right ear twitched—another tell that this was Macavity, but Valentine had done the same last night, so perhaps it was a trait of uncommunicative supernaturals. When Macavity did this, it meant he understood what I was saying but didn’t necessarily agree. I couldn’t afford to cut the fire until the leopard nodded.

  I pushed more power into my hands, lengthening the flames to six inches, making him recoil. The flames flickered and pulsed in time with my quickening heart, and I hoped my magic wouldn’t fail me and peter out at the wrong moment. “Will you promise to stay still while we talk?”

  The leopard gave me a reluctant nod.

  Pulling back the flames to a faint glow, I asked, “Are you Macavity?”

  He tilted his head to the side, which either meant he had no idea who I was talking about or was curious that I knew his name.

  “I used to live with a Bengal cat named Macavity… At least that’s what his name tag said.” The words tumbled from my lips, and I pushed away the awkwardness of having a conversation with a cat. I did come from a world of shifters and were-creatures, after all. “Last week, we were watching Dirty Dancing together and he transformed into a leopard like you.”

  His eyes widened, and he parted his jaws in shock, revealing teeth large enough to bite off my outstretched arms.

  “Macavity?” I asked, my voice filling with hope. “Don’t you recognize me?”

  He shook his head.

  “But you know who I am now?”

  When he nodded again, I lowered my arms and exhaled my relief in a long breath. “How did you find me?” I shook away that question. “Never mind. Can you turn back into a cat? We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Macavity’s features twisted, and he parted his jaws to let out a furious roar.

  Panic sent a stab of adrenaline through my heart. Had the leopard been lying about his identity? I raised my arms and pushed the magic into my hands, but it spluttered out, leaving me with glowing palms.

  “What are you doing?”

  The leopard backed up a few steps and pounced.

  Chapter Seven

  Before I could even turn around and run, the leopard placed a massive paw on my belly and knocked me on my ass. I tried to crawl away, but he pressed down on my chest, pinning me to the gravel path.

  I placed both hands on his paw and pushed as much power as I could into my palms to set his fur alight, but my wretched magic failed.

  “You lied.” I met his narrowed green eyes. “You said you were Macavity—”

  The leopard shook his head.

  “You bloody well did,” I yelled. “I asked if you were Macavity, and you nodded. In cat-language, that means yes.”

  The leopard nodded.

  My brows drew together. “Wait. You’re Macavity?”

  He nodded again.

  I slapped at his paw. “Get off me, then. Why did you knock me down?”

  Macavity didn’t move. The answer to his question was a little more complicated than yes or no. I thought back to my interactions with the cat, wondering why he’d suddenly gotten enraged and knocked me down, and why he kept enough pressure on my chest to hold me down but not restrict my breathing or hurt my ribs.

  We had met the day I had moved into the apartment in Grosvenor Square. After a few nights living above the crystal shop with Istabelle, she had taken me around the corner and up the elevator to present my new accommodation. Macavity had raced through the door and made himself at home on the sofa bed.

  At first, I thought he belonged to one of the neighbors. He wore a smart little collar with a round, metallic tag etched with his name. Besides, people don’t abandon posh cats that look like leopards. But Macavity stayed one night and then the next, and soon became my companion, always leaving in the morning when I went to work or spending the day napping on the sofa.

  I only discovered shortly after Valentine swept into town with warnings about assassins that Macavity had been sent to protect me. Actually, Valentine had withheld that information until after Macavity had transformed into a leopard, murdered a shadow assassin in the hallway, and sat with him on my sofa like they were best pals.

  Since Macavity wasn’t exactly causing me pain, my pulse slowed and I tilted my head to meet his beautiful feline face. “Are you protecting me?”

  He nodded.

  “So, we’re friends?”

  He nodded.

  “You know, friends don’t knock each other down,” I said in a calmer voice. “They discuss things like adults.”

  The paw on my chest twitched, and I swallowed back a flare of triumph. A few more comments like that, and I might get him to see sense.

  I ran a hand up and down the soft fur of his right leg. “It’s not nice to lie on the cold ground in November. I don’t have a thick covering of fur like you, and I’m sure something’s crawling into my hair.”

  Macavity raised his paw and stepped back, letting me scramble to my feet. Guilt twanged at my chest for exaggerating my discomfort to the cat, and I wrapped my arms around his huge head to give him a hug.

  “Thanks for watching out for me,” I murmured into his fur. “You’re just as handsome in your leopard form as you are as a Bengal cat.”

  Macavity raised his head and preened.

  “Who brought you here?” I asked. “Valentine?”

  He nodded.

  “Did he tell you to watch over me?”

  Macavity nodded again.

  “And you’re making sure I don’t leave the grounds?”

  He sat back on his haunches, seeming to puff out his chest. I ran my hands up and down his shoulder,
wondering if he also liked belly rubs in this larger form. A purr rumbled from Macavity’s chest, and his green eyes fluttered shut. It only took the gentlest of shoves to have him lying on his side and purring louder than a motorcycle.

  A cool wind swirled through my hair, blowing red strands across my face. I pulled up my hoodie and glanced up into the sky. The sun shone through the clouds, hanging halfway to the horizon. I ran my hands up and down his soft belly and smiled. We had had a few more hours until sunset.

  Sending out a silent plea to Kain to hurry with the healer and Valentine’s heart, I continued giving Macavity belly rubs, head scratches, and tickled under his chin. After several minutes, Macavity’s purring faded to a gentle rumble, and his breathing deepened. I pulled my hands away from his warm, soft fur and rose to my feet.

  “Are you awake?” I whispered.

  His ear didn’t even twitch.

  A long, relieved breath whooshed out of my lungs. At last. I turned in the direction of the driveway and took a few steps toward freedom, only for a large, feline snout to poke me in the backside.

  My shoulders sagged, and I turned around to meet Macavity’s snarling face, complete with bared teeth. “I thought you were sleeping?”

  Macavity flattened his ears and hissed.

  I raised my hands. “What?”

  He rose to his feet and bumped me on the side, indicating for me to return to the house.

  I clenched my teeth. “Stop it!”

  Macavity ignored my protests, using a combination of head bumps, paw swipes and admonishing roars to herd me back toward the derelict house. I glowered at the cat, wondering how he saw through my deception. It wasn’t like he was a regular shifter. They usually took on a human form before transforming into giant beasts.

  “It’s alright,” I snapped. “I can walk back on my own.”

  He paused in the middle of the path and swept out his paw, a feline gesture of ‘after you.’