by Bella Klaus
I placed my hand over his chest. “What did it say?”
“That my father would have at least listened to his warning,” he murmured. “Now, I will suffer his fate.”
Shifting uncomfortably in his arms, I gulped around a throat that was raw from inhaling brimstone and smoke. That thing had probably been in the house for hours, if not days, listening to our conversation and using what it had learned against Valentine. If it had something to say, it should have spoken in the library instead of sneaking up on us like it was going to attack. I shook off that thought. It was the same creature from the villa in Notting Hill, using the same tendril attacks and enclosing us within the wards. Nothing it had to say would be worth our time.
I slid my hand over his shoulder, wanting to lean beneath his hood and give him a kiss. The setting sun still shone across the garden, threatening to set Valentine alight. “It was playing with your mind.”
Valentine hummed but didn’t reply.
“Hey,” said a voice from below.
My gaze dropped down to the mages, who huddled together. The smallest of them, a blonde girl with cornflower-blue eyes, pulled an oversized jacket over her naked body. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen, but she stared up at me with fierce determination. Black soot covered her bare legs, and she huddled next to a red-haired boy about the same age. I guess she was the ifrit.
“Well done,” Valentine said to the mages gathered in the courtyard. “For ridding us of a dangerous pest, I will forgive the damage you did to our property and give you a five-minute head start before I smash your skulls against the wall and drain your shattered bodies.”
A huff of shock escaped my lungs, and I peered into Valentine’s hood. Furious red eyes shone out in the dark, reminding me once again that I was in the clutches of a preternatural vampire.
The former ifrit tilted up her head. “Aurora said she’s worked out a way to separate you from the firestone in your blood. She can help develop your power, just like she helped me when they rescued me out of Logris. Come with us, and you’ll never have to fear vampire attacks or the Supernatural Council.”
My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. I wasn’t tempted, but if there was a way to separate me from the firestone, I might be able to burn away this curse, protect Valentine from his brothers and the enforcers, save Aunt Arianna and the coven, and bring Valentine back to life.
“Mera?” he said.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “No, thank you.”
Jonathan raised both hands. “I told Aurora you wouldn’t come no matter what we said, and she told us to leave you this.”
As Jonathan placed his hand in his pocket, Valentine flew up several feet. I clung to his neck, hoping Jonathan wouldn’t throw out a rope of black flames. Instead he brought out what appeared to be a glowing yellow bracelet.
He placed it on the ground and stepped back with his arms raised. “It’s made of banked flames. Put this around your ankle, and it will suppress the curse.”
The ifrit placed her hand in her pocket and extracted a small glowing box. “If you change your mind, push your flames into this communicator, and we’ll appear at your side.”
All seven of the fire wielders stepped back and joined hands. Transparent flames engulfed their bodies, and they shimmered away.
Valentine hovered over the dying embers of the garden for several moments, staring at the space where they’d left. I stared into his hood, trying to work out if he had returned to normal, but he remained silent.
“Have they gone?” I asked.
“You could have negotiated your aunt’s freedom,” he said in a tight voice.
I shook my head. “Leaving you didn’t cross my mind.”
Valentine flew down to the charred courtyard and set me on my feet. “You are sure?”
A tight band of concern wound around my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Losing Valentine had been devastating, especially after knowing he had loved me all along. His resurrection had been a shock, but this version of him was better than not having him at all.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest. “My future lies with you, not a group of people who threw me out as a baby.”
He wrapped an arm around my back. “Thank you.”
My gaze dropped to the matchbox-sized object shining by my feet. I kicked it across the courtyard into the smoldering mess that used to be the garden and turned to meet the red eyes glowing from beneath the reaper’s hood. “Absolutely.”
Valentine nodded. “Then we have no time to waste.”
“What do you mean?”
“No right-minded supernatural would allow the power of a phoenix to escape their grasp. The fire mages will soon return with reinforcements.”
Chapter Seventeen
I spun around, meeting Valentine’s glowing eyes. Behind him, smoke rose from the burned-out garden, leaving the charred remains of trees and shrubs and outbuildings. In the black reaper’s cloak, he looked like a specter. All he needed was the scythe Lazarus had used to attack him in the mausoleum, and the outfit would be complete.
He knelt to the paving stones, picked up the anklet from within the long sleeve of his cloak, and held it beneath my nose. “Do you sense anything?”
At first glance, it looked like it could be made of ivory, but the clouds parted a little, letting out a bit of sun and reflecting a bright blue I recognized as burning gas. If I had to compare the material to anything in nature, I would have said mother of pearl.
I stared down at the anklet, trying to sift through my senses. Brimstone still seared my nostrils, and my throat still grated from inhaling smoke. Tuning out Valentine’s magic, I felt out with my senses and caught a tiny flicker. It felt like the way flames might putter out before flaring back to life, but fire magic was still too unfamiliar to me and could have meant anything.
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “The flames are too similar to my own.”
“Your mother’s?” he asked.
“Possibly.”
Valentine turned his head toward the end of the burned garden and the driveway, which hadn’t been visible until now. A hedgerow lay on the other side of the road, followed by a meadow that seemed to go on forever. In the distance, the sun dipped behind a haze of clouds, coloring the horizon an orange the same shade as the flames that had destroyed the garden.
“Push your magic through it in case they’ve embedded a tracking device,” he said.
I stared down at the anklet and guided my power down my right hand and into the anklet. A tiny flame emerged from my fingertip, lengthening to the size of my little finger. “Won’t you get burned if the flames touch your skin?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Nothing burns hotter than the sun.”
“Alright.” I touched my flame to the anklet, and its entire surface caught fire.
Valentine didn’t even flinch. I wanted to ask him where he got the reaper cloak and how he knew it would protect him, but something cracked and fizzled across the stone device. My lips formed a tight line. The fire mages had just proved themselves liars. They probably embedded it with a means to either transport me to their hideout or track me if we decided to leave.
When the anklet fell silent, and the fire died, I tore my gaze from the banked flames and met Valentine’s red eyes. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“It will have to be, because we have run out of warded buildings my people cannot enter,” he replied. “Caiman would have told my brothers the locations of my private homes the moment I rose from the dead.”
I took the anklet, knelt on the charred ground, and fastened it around my boot. As I rose, my gaze lingered on the black marks across the front of the building. “Do you think they were behind the shadow, too?”
Valentine wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me to his chest. “No living being could enter the house without my permission. Perhaps one of them employed that thing to flush me out.”
“Fire mages ca
n commune with the dead?”
“The little ifrit was a demon hybrid.” He flew over the garden’s charred remains. “Who knows what other powers she possessed beside the ability to turn herself into a pure flame?”
My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. I didn’t trust these fire users one bit, nor did I trust the woman who supposedly sent them to save me from Valentine. Where were they all the time I was in London, or when Captain Zella had brought me out of Valentine’s villa vulnerable and unconscious?
I blew out a long breath, creating a stream of condensation in the air. Those mages could have come to save me during my trial, when I was in that jail, or from Valentine’s brothers in the mausoleum, but they had waited until I had survived those trials before making their appearance. Until I had proven myself worthy of their community.
My lip curled. They were so transparent.
Giving the derelict mansion a final glance, I remembered something peculiar I had noticed yesterday. I rested my head against Valentine’s shoulder and frowned. “Back in the basement, when I went down with Macavity and opened that cell, Jonathan was sitting among the shadows.”
“Are you sure about what you saw?” he asked.
“I thought it was shadows at first, then after looking at it for longer, it appeared like smoke. Now I’m convinced it was the same thing they sent to Hell.”
Valentine shook his head, muttering about their trickery, and the sensation of pins and needles pricked at my skin as we passed through the property’s wards.
He whistled and swooped down to pick up a tiny figure from within the hedgerows and settled him on my lap.
“Meow,” Macavity said, sounding relieved.
I rubbed the fur between his ears. “We weren’t going to leave you behind.”
He curled into a little ball and purred.
Moments later, light flared in the periphery of my vision, and I turned to find several dark figures standing within the courtyard. Valentine was right. They had sent reinforcements. Well, it was too late to chase after me. Even if any of them could fly, Valentine controlled the wind.
“Are phoenix flames that precious?” I asked.
“If the Supernatural Council discovered the extent of your power, its members would go to war,” he murmured. “Some would want to use your regeneration magic to help their people, while others might want you detained because your flames disrupt the general order of life.”
I slumped against his front and sighed. Rejection was always difficult to take, no matter who was casting who out and whether I remembered it. Since discovering that my mother was alive, I had felt her loss more than ever. “If they had known I would develop phoenix flames—”
“They would have done everything in their power to protect you. Have you heard the fable about the goose that laid a golden egg?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Think of how many demons would use your power to help them cheat a return to Hell for centuries, building up their power to return to Logris and the human world,” he said.
“And what do you think of my new power?” I asked.
Valentine bent his head, seeming to sniff at my hair. “I fell for you because you helped me see the world through wondrous eyes. Because of your innocence and beauty and purity of soul. Because you’re loyal and caring and love me for the man I am instead of the king.”
I clung to the rough fabric of his cloak, my insides trembling. Because of this power, I had become a burden that had gotten him killed, resurrected, and now hunted by his own subjects. At some point in the future, I would incinerate Valentine, and if it didn’t work as planned, I would end his existence.
“And the phoenix flames?” I asked.
“It’s fitting that such a powerful healing gift would go to you, and it only makes me want to protect you with my life.”
All the tension left my chest in an outward breath, and my insides filled with warmth. I clung to Valentine’s shoulders, savoring this moment of closeness. He didn’t blame me for everything he had lost. With the reaper’s hood still up, I couldn’t see his beautiful face, nor could I look into his eyes, but the strong body supporting mine made me feel loved and protected. I inhaled a deep breath, letting his masculine scent chase away the lingering effects of the brimstone.
“Thank you,” I murmured into his chest. “And I’m sorry for acting so ungrateful.”
Valentine shook his head. “You hold me to a high standard. Without you keeping me sane, I might have succumbed to my darker desires.”
We flew over the countryside in silence, over swathes of forests and fields and lakes, over small villages arranged around paved squares. Macavity slumbered on my lap, a warm, welcome weight. After thirty minutes, the sun set, plunging us into a dark night. Valentine shrugged off his hood and stared down at me with a tender smile that confirmed the truth in his words.
It wasn’t until I turned my gaze to where we were heading and saw the bright lights of a sprawling city that I realized we were heading back toward London. London, the location of Logris, the Supernatural Council, and Valentine’s brothers.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“Wimbledon,” he replied.
I drew back, meeting his twinkling indigo eyes. “My friend lives there.”
“Beatrice Pala,” he said with a gentle nod. “You can stay with her for a few hours while I negotiate our new place.”
I shook my head from side to side. “But I’m a wanted woman. If I put her in danger—”
“Enforcers will be watching your apartment in Grosvenor Square,” he said, sounding calm for a man who just helped banish a shadow to Hell and lost his last hideout. “They’ll watch Istabelle’s crystal shop, too. When I checked your record in the council, there was no mention of Beatrice. You’ll be safe with her.”
My brow furrowed. “Jonathan knows about her.”
He rubbed his nose against the shell of my ear. “Macavity will look forward to meeting him again, and he’ll be prepared to strike first.”
The cat raised his head and let out a determined meow. I tried not to picture the carnage, but a memory of the assassin’s fingers floating in a pool of blood skittered across my mind, giving me a full-body shudder.
Valentine placed me in the gravel courtyard outside Beatrice’s apartment building and ushered me toward the main entrance to ring the entry phone. Macavity gave me a gentle tap with his paws, and I set him down on the ground.
I turned and frowned at Valentine, who looked like a very expensive strip-o-gram on the way to a job. “Won’t someone see you?”
He spread his arms wide. “That’s the benefit of wearing a reaper’s cloak. It makes your companion look like she’s talking to an imaginary friend.”
My lips curled into a smile. “Imaginary or not, I need you to return as soon as you can.”
“The sooner I see that you’re safe inside, the sooner I can leave and hurry back.” Valentine rose twelve feet in the air, making me roll my eyes.
I continued toward the door and rang Beatrice’s bell. A moment later, she replied.
“Um…” I cleared my throat. “It’s me?”
Beatrice fell silent for a few heartbeats before saying, “Mera?”
“Are you alone?” I asked.
The entry phone went dead. I turned back to where Valentine hovered in the air and shrugged. Before he could ask me what was wrong, Beatrice flung the door open and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Bloody hell.” She yanked me through the entrance. “I’ve been worried sick!”
The door slammed shut behind us, leaving Valentine outside. I couldn’t tell if Macavity had snuck in or would wait outside to stand watch, but I relaxed into Beatrice’s embrace and let her walk me to the apartment.
“Sorry about the other day,” I said, cringing at having to tell my best friend a lie.
“Someone left an envelope stuffed with fifty-pound notes, apologizing for the damage done to my flat.” Beatrice drew back
and stared at me through narrowed eyes. “Do you know where that could have come from?”
“Absolutely no idea.” I shook my head, this time not needing to hide the truth. Valentine hadn’t told me about paying for the damage he had done to her spare room.
We stepped into her apartment and went straight to the kitchen, a bright, airy space with white tiles and matching units. Red appliances sat atop the wood counter, reflecting her cheerful personality.
Beatrice stood in front of the sink with shoulders rising to her ears. “I promised myself not to ask too many questions if you called again. You’re in trouble, and you can’t talk about it.”
“Sorry—”
She raised a hand. “My job is to support you, not make your life difficult with endless questions that make you feel unsafe.”
Gulping, I placed a palm on my chest. “If I could tell you…”
“You would.” Beatrice turned around with a strained smile. “Just understand that I’m here for you. Even if I can’t pop around to the shop to say hello or stay over at your flat, I still miss spending time with you.”
I pressed my lips together, holding back a torrent. After swallowing a few times and gathering my thoughts, I managed to say without stuttering, “Thanks. Being your friend has been the brightest spot in my three years in London.”
This time, her smile reached her ears. “I feel the same. Now, let’s stop getting emotional and make something to drink.” She walked over to the cupboard. “I’ve got that coffee you like.”
For the next few minutes, it was like everything was back to normal. As we filled and boiled the kettle, Beatrice updated me on the latest with the banker who had ghosted her the week before. Christian had sent her a few texts, asking if she wanted to meet for a last-minute dinner at Sketch, a French restaurant with three Michelin stars.
An excited breath caught in the back of my throat. It would be hard to turn down such a generous offer, even if it did come from someone as fickle as Christian the Swiss banker.