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

by Bella Klaus

  As the smoke curled around my flaming fingers and streamed into the soul stone, my shoulders relaxed and I leaned back on what was left of the pillows. It looked like the hospital had purchased bedding made of foam.

  The magic continued to leave my body and I let my eyes flutter shut.

  Everything was nearly in place. Kresnik still hadn’t succeeded in obtaining my magic, and the fight he’d had with Valentine had diminished his magic and damaged his physical body. With a bunch of my brothers and sisters having escaped his clutches, Kresnik’s living power stores were dwindling.

  The preternatural vampires he’d created with Valentine’s blood were now destroyed, and thanks to Hades’ alchemist, the reapers had a way to disable the zombies.

  Hope filled my fluttering heart, and I exhaled a long breath, letting all the tension melt away from my muscles. All we needed now was a way to destroy Kresnik in his weakened state before he found his immortal body…

  We were so close to defeating Kresnik and having a happy ending. Somehow, Valentine needed to remove the broom from up his ass for long enough to reabsorb his soul nucleus.

  Chapter Fourteen

  By the time the flames died down and the water mages at the doorway lowered their barrier, the soul star stone resembled smoky quartz. Warmth and love radiated from its depths, making my heart ache.

  This was the core of the man I loved, once again confined to a small object.

  I stared down at the stone, my gaze following the hypnotic swirl of Valentine’s magic. Now that the part of him that had clung to me was gone, I felt like the healers had sliced through chunks of my heart with cheese wires, leaving it riddled with abnormally large holes.

  Convincing Valentine in his current state wouldn’t be easy, but I had no choice but to put him back together.

  Healer Hadriel strolled into the room, followed by Healer Altman, who wheeled in a mobile screen the size of two doors stuck side by side, each displaying my vital signs.

  “Well done.” She clasped her hands together. “Your procedure was a success.”

  And a disaster for the hospital. I glanced from the blackened wall to the screen and bit down on my lip. What would Valentine say when they sent him the bill for the damage I’d done to the room? “Did you extract it all?”

  She closed her eyes and wrapped a hand around her crystal pendant, engulfing me in the scent of ozone I always associated with angels. This time, her magic soaked into my skin rather than sliced, so I didn’t even flinch.

  “Every ounce of foreign magic is gone,” she said. “The procedure also repaired the damage to your root chakra that forced your body to crave thrall and rebalanced the kidney, lung, and liver meridians that generated your symptoms.”

  “Thank you.” I placed a hand over my chest, exhaling my relief. “And what about the damage to my heart?”

  “We repaired that when you came in with the chest wound.” Healer Atman’s thick brows furrowed, the expression pulling at the tight edges of his hairline. “Did you feel any pain during the procedure?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing at all.”

  “Good.” He stroked a hand down his beard braid. “We’ll move you downstairs to the shifter ward, where you can entertain as many feline visitors as you please.”

  “Can’t I go home?” I asked.

  “Mera.” Healer Hadriel’s features fell. She strode to my bedside, lowered herself into the seat, and took my hand in a warm yet supernaturally firm grip. “You suffered a brutal attack, and underwent major heart surgery as well as a soul excision procedure within less than twelve hours.”

  “But I feel fine…” The words died in my throat. She was right. Just because the last few weeks of my life had been a helter-skelter of harrowing happenings, that didn’t mean I had to continue along those lines.

  I forced a smile. “A day to convalesce would be great.”

  The healers exchanged glances, but it was Healer Atman who spoke first. “We recommend a stay of forty-eight to seventy-two hours as your body acclimatizes to the changes.”

  Before I could say anything else, a porter wizard wearing a white jumpsuit stepped into the room, and blinked several times at my blackened gown and the charred walls before stepping out. I guess no one had told him he’d be transporting a fire user.

  “Your records stated that you apprenticed under a Master of Crystals.” Healer Atman pushed the screen closer, displaying a pair of pristine holographs of my energy body and another of a perfect heart with a healthy fifth chamber. “I thought you might get a kick out of seeing this depiction of meridians and chakras.”

  My skin tightened at his use of the past tense. My guilty verdict may have technically ended my apprenticeship, but my relationship with Istabelle was still stronger than ever.

  Leaning forward, I squinted at the tiny symbols on the board that indicated I had zero blockages, a hundred percent energy flow, and zero outbound drains. They’d restored me to perfect health, and I hoped that Beatrice could receive a similar scan, even if she was without magic.

  “This is an amazing result.” I glanced down at the soul star stone and exhaled my contentment in an outward breath. “Thank you.”

  Healer Hadriel gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “It was an honor to make your acquaintance. I hope you fly over Atlantis one day and grace us with your presence.”

  Moments later, the porter returned with a floating gurney with pristine white sheets and a fluffy pillow. With a flick of magic, he transported me into the new bed and clothed me in a fresh gown.

  The shifter ward reminded me of a human hospital as the walls separating each patients’ compartment were transparent instead of opaque. There were seven patients including me—eight if the tiny bulge in the middle of the bed opposite was actually a shifter.

  Lunch came from the Hatch, a watercress and mint soup followed by a mushroom and steak sandwich served with wafer-thin bread that tasted of garlic butter. I was too full for dessert and settled for a mug of gingerbread cocoa that was nowhere near as decadent as the hot chocolate from Hell.

  As the porter took my tray away, heels click-clacked across the room and Namara sashayed to my bedside. She wore her hair down, letting it curl down to a white bolero sweater that covered her arms. The rest of her outfit consisted of a figure-hugging ivory dress that shimmered like satin.

  In her hand swung a goodie basket filled with at least four different types of shortbread and a silver thermos in the exact shape of last night’s chocolate penis.

  My mouth watered at the prospect of the contents of that flask. “For me?”

  “My lord ordered me to apologize for his abrupt departure last night and wants me to tell you he’s never left a woman unsatisfied.” Namara placed the basket on my table.

  “Where is he?” I asked, letting her last comment slide into insignificance.

  She flashed me a broad smile. “Should I tell him that you’re missing his presence?”

  I gave my head a vigorous shake. “I’m more concerned about what’s going on with the Theodore situation?”

  Namara’s eyes widened with faux innocence.

  “There has to be something you can share.” Raising my brows, I gave Namara a meaningful look. The Supernatural Council hadn’t yet announced Kresnik’s return, and I’d already shown them enough disrespect to make at least half of them want to flay me alive. The last thing I needed was the other shifters overhearing our conversation and spreading word around Logris.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to divulge that information.” Namara lowered herself into the seat and pulled out a smartphone. “My lord wishes to rearrange your appointment. His diary is extremely full, but he’s willing to shift a few things around to accommodate your urgent need.”

  I shook my palm. “Our bargain is already fulfilled.”

  She frowned and tilted her head to the side. “You agreed to three nights.”

  “Nice try,” I snarled through clenched teeth. “Tell your boss that we ag
reed to three meals, not nights, not shags, not walks in the park.”

  Namara pursed her lips. “You really don’t know what you’re missing.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes. “What kind of demon makes a bargain and then immediately breaks it?” She parted her lips, presumably to tell me that her precious lord wasn’t demonic, but I added, “Right, he’s a god. Look, I know you’re only doing your job, but can we skip the part where you try to convince me he’s an Olympic-level Lothario and just accept my refusal?”

  She leaned back in her seat and sighed. “It’s been an eternity since my lord has shown an interest in a woman. Can’t you at least give him a chance?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He’s going to have to find someone else. There’s only one man for me, and I couldn’t consider anyone but Valentine.”

  “Hmmm…” she said in a ‘we’ll see about that’ tone.

  I slipped the soul star under the covers, tightening my fingers around the stone. Namara seemed like a nice demoness, but like all the women surrounding Hades, she was inexplicably loyal to the rogue. I supposed some women found the rakish unpredictable type exhilarating, but all I longed for was for my relationship with Valentine to return to normal.

  “How do I open that flask?” I said, hoping to change the subject.

  Her brown eyes sparkled, revealing hints of the amber from her demonic form. “You’ve got to squeeze its base with a twisting motion then pump its shaft up and down using a firm hand before the drinking slit will open and release its contents. I charmed it to be bottomless.”

  Ignoring everything she said but the last sentence, I licked my lips. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Did you know it’s a life-sized—”

  “Mould of your lord’s appendage?” I asked. “Leuce and Pallas treated me to a chocolate one the night before. Could you open it for me? I’m still weak from my surgery and don’t want to burst my sutures again.”

  Namara’s face dropped and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O.’ “Of course.” She wrapped her hand around the thick flask, moving it up and down in a pumping twisting motion.

  A twang of guilt plucked at my heart at having lied to the demoness, but there was something awfully suspicious about being served delicious drinks from vessels created from moulds of Hades’ penis. It almost felt like the women were grooming me to drink straight from the font. Besides, I didn’t want to be seen in public with my lips wrapped around anything so obviously phallic.

  As she gave the shiny thermos a few more of those long strokes, I pushed a cup across the table.

  “There.” The thermos opened with a hiss, and she filled my cup to the brim. “I’ve also disabled the flask’s locking function, so you won’t need to go to so much effort for a drink.”

  “Thanks.” I took a tiny taste, half of me expecting a taste of salted caramel or something equally as dubious, but it was the same hot chocolate she’d served the day we’d first met.

  The next sip was longer, and the thick and rich and creamy liquid slid down my tongue, setting every dopamine receptor in my brain ablaze. Whatever the healers had done to my thrall addiction had also worked on my chocolate addiction, because it tasted even better than it had the first time.

  “That’s wonderful,” I said with a happy sigh.

  Namara’s phone beeped. “It looks like I’m wanted back in the office.” She rose to her feet and gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. “Take care of yourself, alright? I’ll tell my lord you’re too feeble for vigorous sex. I’m sure he’ll work something out.”

  I choked on my mouthful, lurching forward to grab at her arm, but Namara had already sashayed out of reach. After giving me a jaunty wave, she click-clacked out of my room and out of sight.

  “Bloody hell.” I fell back on my cushions, clutching my cup tight enough to warp the plastic. “Why don’t these people ever understand the concept of no?”

  The rest of the afternoon was quiet, and I sat back in the bed, watching the other patients’ friends and families stream in and out of the rooms. They were all part of packs and prides, parades and parliaments, prickles and partnerships and posses.

  I sank into the pillows, exhaling a weary sigh. Valentine was out there somewhere, existing without an important part of his body.

  It wasn’t even the same being preternatural—his preternatural self had taken what he wanted, done whatever he pleased, and seemed to enjoy having no soul. This new Valentine didn’t seem capable of joy.

  Stuffing a huge bite of lemon shortbread into my mouth, I poured myself half a cup of hot chocolate, trying to ease the phantom ache in my heart. Poor Aunt Arianna should also be here in Logris, not hiding out in a foreign country. I’d lost my phone, so I didn’t know if she’d gotten into contact after I’d left that message with the Atlantis exchange.

  Kain and Macavity visited me every day with updates on Lazarus’ slow healing process. With the help of the palace healers, Beatrice was regaining her strength, but nobody had worked out how to reverse her aging.

  On the third evening, Valentine’s large frame filled in the doorway. The hospital’s harsh illumination bounced off his black hair, making it look bathed in sheets of white.

  My heart skipped, and I held in a breath, wondering what he would say. Curling my fingers around the soul star, I straightened against the pillow. Now when I met eyes as cold as a winter sky, it no longer hurt because all his love and warmth resided in the soul star in my palm.

  “Good evening, Miss Griffin.” Valentine swept into the room, clad in a three-piece suit with a two-button jacket that might have been tailored for him a century ago. The woolen fabric hung stiffly against his athletic frame, making him look like his muscles were as rigid as his new personality.

  The soul star’s smoky magic seemed to swirl at my touch. I met his eyes and forced a smile. “I didn’t thank you for coming to my rescue the other day, or for bringing me here for treatment.”

  Valentine dropped his gaze to the metallic thermos, and his lips twitched with disapproval. I gulped. Perhaps I ought to have refused Namara’s gift or at least asked Kain to bring me a sock to cover the apparently life-size depiction of Hades’ erection.

  He tore his eyes away from the drinking phallus and stood at my bedside with his arms folded over his broad chest. “The healers have informed me that you’ve been discharged. I have arranged accommodation for you within the palace grounds.”

  As he finished those words, a trio of guards in black armor stepped into the room, each holding automatic rifles. Even though the butts of their weapons were pointed at the floor, my pulse quickened.

  I searched Valentine’s expressionless features for clues. “Am I a dangerous criminal now?”

  He gave his head a minute shake. “They’re a security precaution.”

  “Alright.” My hand twitched toward a glass of water, but my fingers trembled so much that I curled it into a fist instead. “You want me to stay with you in the palace?”

  “Since you’re no longer a resident of Striga, the Council has declared you my responsibility.” The distaste dripping from his voice implied that he had tried to persuade the Witch Queen to take me back as one of her subjects and failed to get rid of me.

  I chewed on my bottom lip and ran a hand through my hair. After Kresnik had tracked me down to Beatrice’s apartment, I could hardly blame the woman for refusing the opportunity for him to invade her territory. Even though this offer of accommodation was begrudging, Valentine still could have left me to return to my old studio apartment.

  “Thank you?” I said.

  Valentine sniffed. “Of course, you will work off your debt to the Royal House of Sargon.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I swung my legs off the side of the hospital bed. “Debt?”

  His gaze lingered where the gown had ridden up to expose my thighs. “Hospital bills, food, accommodation costs, servants—”

  “Accommodation? I thought I was staying with you in the palace.” My brows dr
ew together. He was beginning to sound like Jonathan.

  “There are secure quarters for you within the grounds,” Valentine said.

  A heavy weight settled into my chest as I pictured a tiny room with a mattress on the floor and bars instead of a door. No matter which form he took, Valentine sure had a fondness for keeping me confined.

  My fingers tightened around the soul star. If I told this tight-fisted Vampire King what to do about this supposed amount of money I owed him, I might set back my goal to reunite him with the other part of his soul. I had to at least play along until he was whole.

  I padded around the bed, closing the distance between us, and stared into his expressionless eyes. “Is there any way you wanted me to pay off my debt in particular?”

  His lips tightened at the innuendo. “Securing you is a serious matter, Miss Griffin, one that could mean the difference between destroying a certain individual and handing him the power that he deems important enough to extract from your body.”

  Irritation tightened the skin on the back of my neck. “I’m a person, not a vessel.”

  He didn’t even twitch.

  “Alright,” I said with a sigh. “If you want me to organize your work diary and file your documents—”

  “No.” That single word crushed any chance of returning to work at his property company.

  “Fine.” I reached for my new flask. “Once you’ve worked out a way for me to repay my debt to you, let me know.”

  Valentine’s eyes tracked the movement of my hand, a muscle in his jaw flexing as I curled my fingers around its shaft. Good. At least with his eyes on Hades’ stainless steel phallus, he wouldn’t notice me slipping the soul star into the pocket of my gown.

  As I placed my feet into a petal-soft pair of slippers, Valentine turned on his heel and headed toward the door. Perhaps he would explain later if he wanted me to spin straw into gold.

  I stared at his back, wondering if he meant for me to follow. When he shot me a cold glare over his shoulder, I crossed the room, and picked up a robe hanging by the door. I turned to find I’d left Namara’s gift basket on the table, so I grabbed it before jogging out into the hallway.