Rebirth of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 6)

by Bella Klaus

  Then who?

  Thud after thud after thud of bodies echoed across the room as my stealthy ally decapitated zombies and disabled whoever still lurked in the hallway. Hope filled my chest, but I still couldn’t move because of that wretched needle skewering me through the heart.

  Valentine appeared in front of me, his features stern. “Remain still, Miss Griffin. Help is on the way.”

  Chapter Nine

  My breath caught, and I stared into Valentine’s concerned eyes. The light streaming in through the hallway and the illumination of Kresnik’s garish suit brought out the indigo highlights in his irises and hair.

  Valentine’s gaze dropped to the knitting needle-sized instrument protruding from my breastbone. His shoulders stiffened, and he flattened his lips, looking like he was trying to suppress a shudder.

  I couldn’t speak. Not with every breath I took shifting the object in my heart. What if I accidentally nicked an artery?

  A tense silence stretched out across the living room, broken only by Kresnik’s rasping coughs. As much as I hoped the bastard was suffering, anything Valentine had done to him paled in comparison to the thirty thousand years of suffering on that rock.

  Cold wind blasted through the nonexistent window, chilling the blood that had streamed down my belly. Tremors seized my skeleton, but I clamped my teeth together to stop them from chattering.

  Valentine met my eyes with an expression that I could only describe as grim and completely devoid of his usual love and tenderness. Before my heart could shatter even further, he glanced at a point over my shoulder. “Healer Dianne.”

  My throat dried. Wasn’t that the woman he brought to Beatrice’s bedside when I’d overheated her in the jacuzzi?

  The older woman appeared on my right and stood behind the sofa, her turquoise eyes darting toward Kresnik, who stood at the wall impaled like a starfish. Each facet of Healer Dianne’s massive crystal pendant glinted in the light, making it look like she’d plucked it from the heavens.

  Security staff from the palace jostled her aside. One of the men in black held an open case filled with medieval weapons, including swords with blades of crystal.

  Brushing a lock of strawberry-blonde hair from her face, Healer Dianne cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, wouldn’t it be wise to wait until you’ve completed—”

  “Heal her, now,” he growled.

  She scurried forward, tripping over the abnormally long legs of one of the decapitated zombies. A crease formed between the brows of her unlined face as she studied the needle in my chest.

  Valentine turned his attention to the fiend trying to pull himself free from his restraints. Flames erupted around the dagger in his mouth, from his eyes, and his ears, and both his hands were ablaze. No matter how much Kresnik tried, he couldn’t dislodge the bolts and swords and daggers affixing his body to the wall.

  “The more you try to shift, the more power these firestone daggers will absorb.” Valentine produced a short sword from his belt and sliced into Kresnik’s belly.

  “Rumors of your demise have been exaggerated,” Kresnik said, his voice a gurgling rasp. “They said the girl set you aflame but nobody could tell me what became of your remains.”

  “What did you do to Miss Griffin?” Valentine snarled.

  Kresnik laughed. “Why the formality, when I handed you my daughter to use as you pleased?”

  Valentine flinched, his shocked gaze meeting mine.

  A shallow breath rasped from my dry throat. Despite being suspended in midair with a metallic instrument skewering my heart, the organ still managed to plummet. I hadn’t told Valentine about Kresnik’s breeding program or the circumstances of my birth.

  I gulped over and over as though I was still restrained against that rock, waiting for the eagle to exact its punishment. According to the rumors, I was his murderer, the woman responsible for turning him into a preternatural vampire and making him persecute his people. Now I was Kresnik’s daughter. What on earth would he think of me now?

  “You’ve forgotten?” Kresnik said through wheezing chuckles, spitting out chunks of fire with every breath. “Noble King Valentine thoroughly debauched my daughter. You used her mercilessly, publicly, and without restraint.”

  Everyone in the room stilled, and I wasn’t just talking about the corpses littering the floor and sofa.

  “You will not distract me with your filth.” Valentine stepped back, turned to the case, and selected the longest, thickest sword I’d ever seen. Its transparent blade glinted in the light before he rammed it through Kresnik’s solar plexus.

  A stomach-churning thud later, cracks formed on the wall behind Kresnik’s back. The sword glowed orange, seeming to suck in all that stolen power. My mouth dropped open. Valentine was stabbing him with firestone!

  Valentine’s low growl made every fine hair on my body stand to attention. “When I have taken your power, I will break your carcass into quarters and send you back to Hell!”

  Kresnik’s cackling laughter grated on my nerves. “You were an even better general to me than your father. In the short time I had you under my control, you captured hundreds of innocent humans for my preternatural army and turned dozens of young supernaturals into your progeny.”

  Valentine paused, his face turning slack.

  “Keep going,” I yelled, the needle in my heart pulling to the left. “He’s lying.”

  “Miss Griffin.” Healer Dianne placed a hand on my shoulder. “I need you to remain perfectly still while I remove this implement. You’re already suffering internal bleeding but even the slightest of breath will pierce a major vessel.”

  Every ounce of blood drained from my face and gathered around the foreign body in my chest. My head spun, and my heart spasmed painfully around the metal. The zombie Kresnik had gotten to steal my magic must have been a surgeon in his former life or a skilled serial killer. Healer Dianne made it sound like I should already be dead.

  With a nod, I clenched my teeth, held my breath, closed my eyes, and braced myself for a bloody and painful extraction.

  The sound of Valentine slamming weapon after weapon into Kresnik’s body made my stomach lurch, and I had to stop myself from flinching. Clean magic sliced through my senses, reminding me of the Angel King. The dull pain in my chest vanished.

  I exhaled a long breath, opened my eyes, and dropped my gaze to my chest. The wretched needle was still there.

  “The excision will take a few moments, I’m afraid,” said the healer. “In order to ensure a seamless healing, I will need to remove the tissue around the foreign object. Please remain still.”

  Ice surged through my veins. “Shouldn’t I be in an operating theater?”

  Her lips tightened. “Any further delays might jeopardize the integrity of your soul."

  Nodding, I inhaled the shallowest of breaths. Maybe it was post-traumatic shock but the healing process seemed even more nerve-wracking than being violated by Kresnik’s zombie.

  “Valentine Sargon,” Kresnik rasped. By now, the fire in his eyes had dimmed to embers, making them look like coals on a blacksmith’s forge. “Nobly trying to cleanse the taint of his father’s sins.”

  “Shut your mouth.” Valentine punched him in the jaw, spraying the room with sparks.

  Kresnik laughed. “No matter how much you attack, you will never defeat me. I will prevail.”

  Valentine turned to one of his men in black. “Broadsword.”

  Kresnik’s eyes widened. “Decapitation? How ironic that the catalyst for bringing you back to life will be the one that sets me free.”

  I parted my lips to shout out a warning. Valentine probably didn’t know that Prince Draconius’s warrior had sliced off his head, forcing me to burn his remains to ash. The needle in my heart chilled, stealing my breath and flooding my system with cold shock.

  My gaze met Healer Dianne’s and she said something I couldn’t hear through the ringing in my ears. Every molecule in my body vibrated in sync with the sound, barely disg
uising the slicing magic shaving my flesh.

  A shudder seized my skeleton. This had to be the healer’s magic—some kind of musical therapy to remove the corrupted tissue and knit together the damage that zombie had inflicted on my heart and magic and soul.

  Kresnik’s lips continued moving, and whatever he was saying made Valentine bare his teeth and land another punch on the fallen god’s face. Kresnik’s head jerked to the side, loosening plaster from the wall.

  Every instinct in my soul screamed at Valentine to stop listening to Kresnik’s taunts, to tell him he wasn’t responsible for the actions of his preternatural self, but my body couldn’t move. Healer Dianne had reduced me to unmoving particles, and I couldn’t even feel the beat of my heart.

  Light burst forth from Kresnik’s body, filling my vision with white. I couldn’t even blink away the flare, couldn’t lower my gaze, couldn’t do anything but hover in midair, still suspended by shadows. It was like being back in the void except I couldn’t feel my body.

  The sound of Valentine’s fury snapped me out of the blank haze, and my molecules slammed together, returning sensation to my body. I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaled a noisy breath, and let my feet land on the wooden floor. My ears still rang, but when I opened my eyes, a six-and-a-half-foot-tall ifrit stood in the middle of the living room flailing his arms.

  Sword hilts stuck out from his fiery body and flaming debris flew across the room from his frantic movements.

  “Bloody hell,” I muttered. “He broke free.”

  Healer Dianne wrapped an arm around my shoulder and backed me toward the door. “Miss Griffin.” Her voice shook. “Come with me.”

  Valentine and his men rushed toward him, each holding crystal broadswords. Someone shot a missile through the air that got absorbed into Kresnik’s blazing body. The fire around the entry wound dimmed, only to flare brighter.

  My stomach plummeted to my wooden feet. His supply of magic was infinite.

  “This is Kresnik.” Her sharp tone implied that he was the biggest danger to all worlds.

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek, gaping at Valentine strike Kresnik’s ifrit form with firestone weapons. He and the other vampires moved so quickly that only the attacks became visible. Four lances protruded from Kresnik’s flames, filling the air with an almighty hiss.

  The old me wouldn’t have understood the weight of the healer’s words. The Mera who had been tricked into raising Kresnik from Hell would have shuddered with terror. But I knew Kresnik for the empty vessel that he was—a howling parasitical abyss who stole the magic of others to make people think he was powerful.

  That didn’t mean I was going to stick around to have him plunder mine.

  Kresnik flew across the room toward us like a vengeful wraith, his fiery body hitting a clear shield. It clinked, indicating that it was solid—possibly a firestone, since it darkened on contact with the flames.

  “Hurry,” the healer hissed. “As soon as the barrier absorbs his magic, the crystal will shatter.”

  I turned on my heel and sprinted down the hallway, my chest spasming with discomfort. An almighty roar filled the air, making the floor beneath my feet tremble. I picked up my pace, speeding past a row of vampires crowding the door, out to the darkened entrance hall, and through the building’s front exit.

  Humans gathered around the apartment’s gravel courtyard, most clad in the kind of lounge wear Beatrice and I preferred. All the external lights were off, and glass littered the floor, presumably from Kresnik’s attack. These people were Beatrice’s neighbors, staring at what they probably thought was a gas explosion.

  Sirens rang through the air, and everyone turned in the direction of the Causeway toward a quartet of approaching fire engines.

  “This way.” Healer Dianne grabbed my arm and sprinted toward an ambulance parked on the courtyard’s far right.

  A pair of enforcers in white stood at its back door and ushered us into its interior, which was bare, save for its back wall, which consisted of a mirror the width of the vehicle, and a cot attached to beeping monitors, where Beatrice slept.

  I stumbled to a halt, staring at my best friend’s wrinkled face. “What’s she doing here?”

  “There’s no time.” Healer Dianne placed a hand on the small of my back, trying to guide me through the mirror.

  I dug in my heels. “Are you destroying her memory?”

  The woman turned around and screamed. I spun, finding a huge ball of fire billowing toward the apartment building’s front door.

  “Shit,” I hissed.

  Kresnik wasn’t giving up. He wouldn’t stop until he had my phoenix in his grasping hands. My survival instinct slapped at my senses, screaming at me that safety was a few steps away. All I had to do was jump into that mirror, but I couldn’t leave Beatrice.

  “Start the engine,” I snapped. “If we drive away—”

  A large body wrapped his arms around my middle and jumped through the mirror. For the briefest of moments, my body turned inside out, and a scream tore from my lips. He landed with a thud and set me on my feet.

  I whirled around. Healer Dianne stepped through the mirror with the other enforcer, who slammed his hand on the frame, making the glass turn opaque.

  My blood turned cold. The bloody bastards just left Beatrice behind to face Kresnik’s wrath.

  “What have you done?” I ran to the mirror and clutched at its steel frame, pushed my magic only for the metal to heat beneath my hands.

  “Miss Griffin,” said a voice from behind me. “Please stay calm.”

  “Beatrice is out there.” I slammed my fists on the opaque glass, trying to make it turn back into a portal. “Kresnik’s going to burn her alive.”

  “What?” roared a hollow voice.

  I turned around, finally taking in my surroundings. We were in a hospital suite of white walls that displayed the digital vital signs of a blackened skeleton stretched out on an examination table. A heart the size of a plum tomato pulsed behind his ribcage, fed by the streams of magic that led to nine intravenous pouches held on stands.

  “Lazarus,” I whispered.

  “Where’s Beatrice?” He jerked within his magical restraints, staring at me through empty sockets.

  Any other time, I would shudder, but adrenaline surged through my veins, and my heart pounded to the beat of a war drum. This was either Valentine’s palace or the hospital wing of the Supernatural Council building. Either way, we were in the heart of Logris, miles away from Wimbledon, and too late to save Beatrice.

  “They left her strapped to a bed in an ambulance.” I pointed at the enforcers standing by the mirror with Healer Dianne. “When I tried to stay behind, they carried me through the mirror.”

  Lazarus screamed, the magic holding him to the examination table splintering. He scrambled out, falling onto his hands and knees. Blackened debris splintered off his body, making me clench my teeth. At this rate, there wouldn’t be anything left of him to salvage.

  A doctor in white rushed forward, his gloved hands outstretched. “Your Highness, you sustained marrow-degree burns. Any unnecessary movements will hamper your regeneration—”

  “Fuck off.” Lazarus slashed his arm through the air, making the doctor fly across the room.

  Alarms rang through the room. The doctor bounced off the wall, landing on his feet with the grace of a cat. I might have wondered if hospital rooms were enchanted to protect the staff from their patients’ outbursts, but a hot flash of fury had me snarling for Beatrice.

  I turned to the enforcers and coated my hands with fire. “Let me go back.”

  Healer Dianne stepped forward, her palms outstretched like I was holding them all at gunpoint. “What you’ve suffered has been traumatic, and I understand the need to lash out—”

  “You just left a defenseless human at the mercy of a madman,” I shouted. “I’ve got to save her.”

  A team of mediwizards rushed inside, each holding wands as thick as night sticks. They pointed them at
Lazarus, encasing him in a bubble that rendered him unconscious.

  The healer pressed her lips together. “My contract with King Valentine only states that I must heal Prince Lazarus. I put myself and my team at risk to save you as a courtesy, but—”

  “Don’t bullshit me,” I snarled. “Valentine cares about humans, too. He once paid you to heal Beatrice.”

  Her brows drew together as though not quite understating what I was talking about. Valentine had tampered with the healer’s memory back in the Paddington hospital room, but I didn’t remember him completely deleting Healer Dianne’s encounter with Beatrice. None of that mattered. The longer I stood here talking with these people, the more chance I was giving Kresnik to immolate Beatrice.

  “Now,” I snarled, “are you going to send me back or will I have to burn through everyone in this room to convince you to release me?”

  With a sigh, she turned to the enforcer in white and nodded for him to let me through. “Now I see why the Supernatural Council culled your kind.”

  “Anyone who gave a shit about a human would act this way.” I shoved past the healer. “Bigots like you who think a human life is worthless are the reason why people gather around tyrants like Kresnik.”

  Ignoring her outraged squawk, I stepped into the mirror and into the ambulance’s charred interior. Cold shock barreled through my insides, making my legs buckle. Of course Kresnik got to her first.

  A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist and held me upright. Valentine’s smoky magic hovered at my back, stopping at what felt like an invisible barrier.

  “Why did you return?” he asked.

  I turned around, meeting his reddened eyes. Tiny blood vessels stood out from their whites like strikes of lightning, signaling his continued rage.

  Pursing his lips, he stepped back, took off his jacket, and draped it over my shoulders. “You’re exposed.”