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

by Bella Klaus

  “Prevail?” I forced a mocking laugh. “You abducted me and ran, forcing Valentine to follow.”

  Prince Draconius stalked toward me, his cold gaze fixed on mine. “What is the life of a blood cow if it means the defeat of an out-of-control preternatural? Do you know how much damage my brother did to the Supernatural World in the years he was under the control of Kresnik?”

  My skin tightened with the sensation of crawling ants. Everything about this creature was aggravating, no matter how little power he now wielded or how much he’d upgraded his appearance. Fury raged through my veins, making my muscles tremble with the urge to shift.

  “Valentine wasn’t under anyone’s control.” I tried to keep my voice even, but the effort was futile. “You only cared about killing him so you could force Kain to take his throne and rule Lamia as its regent.”

  The prince shook his head, his gaze jumping to Valentine. “Why would I be concerned with the accumulation of power when the honor of our Royal House and the fate of the world was at stake?”

  A growl reverberated in the back of Valentine’s throat. His soul had told me about the prince’s need for a stable home. Even without the nucleus, Valentine had to know his uncle well enough to at least suspect his ulterior motives.

  Prince Draconius sniffed. “While I was frozen with the demons’ magic, someone rushed into the room and decapitated your corpse.”

  “Don’t make it sound like some random demon staggered into the fray and went crazy with a sword.” I curled my hands into fists. “The attacker was your warrior who you’d ordered to kill Valentine.”

  “It’s as I said,” he drawled, seeming to have regained his former confidence. “The Royal House of Sargon makes no secret its quest against preternaturalism.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Uncle,” Valentine growled.

  I whirled around. “The coffee shop was a mess from the battle, and the fountain overflowed across the floor. When you were decapitated, Irdu and your uncle both wanted me as a pet—”

  “Lies,” snarled the prince.

  “And I shifted into a phoenix while they were trying to pull me apart.” My voice rose. “Because Irdu and Prince Draconius were holding on to me at the time, they both burned into ashes that ended up floating in the puddles of coffee.”

  Prince Draconius spluttered. “How dare you turn your back on me?”

  I glared at the arrogant prince over my shoulder. “Because you’re no threat to anyone, looking like your fangs haven’t yet descended.”

  Someone within the crowd of warriors choked back a laugh.

  Valentine’s brow furrowed. “How did you resurrect?”

  His uncle’s lips tightened, and a flush darkened his features. “My ashes were too scattered, too mingled with those of the demon who ran that den of iniquity. Their warlocks salvaged what they could, dried and separated them, and I arose like this.”

  I chewed on the inside of my lip. The only way he could have resurrected was with a quantity of someone’s blood. If I could identify that person, I might be able to work out a way to defeat Prince Draconius if he remained in Logris to cause trouble.

  There was no way I would voice my plans. I didn’t trust anyone in this room not to exploit this information in a way that disadvantaged me, including my fiancé.

  Valentine rocked back on his heels, holding his hands behind his back, his features a mask of contemplation. “Would you consider yourself a preternatural, Uncle?”

  “Of course not.” He slapped a hand to his chest. “I have a beating heart and a soul.”

  “As do I,” Valentine said in a voice as sharp as an ax. “If you wish to remain in Logris and help us defeat Kresnik, you and your warriors will be welcome to stay on the palace grounds.”

  Prince Draconius flinched. “Kresnik is your problem.”

  “Then I wish you a safe journey back to New Mesopotamia,” Valentine said.

  I resisted the urge to fold my arms across my chest and smirk. Until Prince Draconius and his goons left the palace, I wouldn’t ease up on my flames.

  The robed warriors retreated from the room, and the door slammed shut behind the prince, whose face paled.

  “Aren’t you going with them?” I asked.

  Prince Draconius’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I have important business here in Logris.”

  I stepped toward him. “Are you still trying to steal Valentine’s throne?”

  Prince Draconius turned pleading eyes to Valentine. “Between you and your harlot, you’ve planted the seeds of dissension in my warriors. You heard them laugh when she mocked me. I feel their minds calculating the odds of cutting me down and usurping my position. One of them will justify murdering me as a preternatural.”

  I nodded, remembering November, the ambitious vampire who had pounced on me before Valentine had resurrected. “If your other children are anything like Nonaginta-Novem, then I expect they’re all sharpening the knives they’ll stick in your back.”

  “Then you’ll provide me sanctuary?” the prince asked Valentine.

  “Why should he when you came here to kill him?” I snapped.

  The newly resurrected dickhead shook his head from side to side. “It was a misunderstanding,” he said in a voice as slippery as butter that had been left to fester in the sun. “I merely came to verify that you were alive.”

  “Escort your warriors out of the grounds,” Valentine snarled.

  “And me?” Prince Draconius’s voice broke.

  “I trust that you will explain your resurrection and mine in a manner amenable to Grandfather.”

  I pressed my lips together to disguise a smirk. A more compassionate woman would have felt sorry for the guy, but not me. Prince Draconius could have apologized for his actions and thrown himself on Valentine’s mercy, but he tried to stage a coup, knowing that his own standing within the Royal House of Sargon was just as precarious as Valentine’s.

  The prince’s shoulders sagged. “I would have thought that you of all people wouldn’t turn your back on family.”

  “I don’t tolerate betrayal.” Valentine’s gaze flicked toward the armed guards who had accompanied us from the hospital. “After you’ve escorted this vampire and his entourage to the outskirts of Lamia, please remove their magical signatures from the wards.”

  Prince Draconius’s nostrils flared. “Who mentored you for centuries after the death of my brother? Who taught you how to rule?”

  “Goodbye, Uncle,” Valentine said without a trace of emotion.

  An armed guard stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on the prince’s shoulder.

  “You’ve changed, Nephew.” Prince Draconius bowed his head. “Your power levels might have increased since your demise, but you’ve lost the humanity that will help you survive the upcoming war. May it be your downfall!”

  As the guards jostled the prince out of the receiving room, I turned to study Valentine’s expression.

  There wasn’t a trace of red in his eyes, which would have indicated passion or at least an attraction. Instead, he watched the scuffle at the doorway, holding his features in a mask of indifference.

  My heart clenched. Maybe it was time to tell him that the stone in my pocket could make him complete.

  Valentine’s gaze met mine. “I was wrong about you.”

  A breath caught in the back of my throat, and my chest filled with warm hope. Had my fierce attempt to defend Valentine awakened a deeper part of his psyche or triggered a memory of our love? He leaned toward me, only stopping when our faces were inches apart.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “When my brothers told me about the blood cow who had brought me to ruin, I hardly believed I would allow anyone to lead me astray.”

  My mouth dried, and the pulse in my throat fluttered like a trapped butterfly. “And now?”

  “It would seem that you’re an even bigger menace than I’d thought.” His hand tightened around my arm. “A dangerous young woman who nee
ds firm control.”

  I reared back, trying to pull out of his grip, but it was as futile as trying to break through iron manacles. When I met his irises, they shone with the finest flecks of red. “Are you talking about a spanking?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is that how my preternatural body subdued you?”

  My cheeks heated, and I gave my head a vigorous shake. “No.”

  He strode across the room at a pace that had me jogging to keep up. Guards lined the stone hallway, each clad in black armor and carrying fully charged weapons. The light glinted off swords and daggers made of firestone, and my insides tightened into knots. During the time I’d spent in the hospital, Valentine had prepared his employees for battle against fire users.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked.

  He continued down rows of guards, not breaking his stride. “You’re a valuable commodity and possibly the key to Kresnik’s power.”

  “And?” I stumbled over my feet, tried to dig my heels into the stone floor, but it did nothing to slow the determined vampire.

  Valentine rounded the corner, toward a door that glowed with magic that snapped and cracked and sparkled. “You’re going somewhere Kresnik will never reach.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stumbled down the stone hallway, yanking on Valentine’s arm, trying to catch his attention before we stepped through what appeared to be a one-way magical door. A few of the guards from before followed us, forming a wall of armored bodies at our backs.

  Valentine wasn’t right in the soul—he could very well want to keep me as a pet just like the other supernatural men I’d encountered. If I didn’t do something right now to stop Valentine from imprisoning me, I might lose my freedom forever.

  “You can’t throw me into a magical prison.” I slapped at the hand encasing my forearm.

  He continued toward that door, not even having the decency to at least flinch. Silver light streamed from behind its seams, casting its illumination across the arched ceiling and the limestone floor. A shudder ran down my back. What kind of magic was this?

  “There’s information you need about Kresnik to win the war,” I blurted.

  Pausing, Valentine loosened his grip on my arm. “The Demon King claims to have gathered a wealth of information on Kresnik from having infiltrated his lair.”

  “Well, Hades doesn’t know everything,” I snapped, my mind churning for something to say next. “He still needs to consult me on occasion, which was partly why I was in his quarters the other day.”

  His brow rose. “Elaborate.”

  I reared back. “About what?”

  “Share some of the information that makes you such a vital piece in the war against Kresnik.”

  The implication that I was an asset to Kresnik and a liability to everyone else made me bristle, and my throat spasmed with a fresh bout of panic. I knew absolutely nothing about Kresnik that Hades didn’t already know.

  My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. “Actually, the person with the most up-to-date information about Kresnik is you.”

  “And I can’t remember anything about the time I spent in the Flame,” Valentine growled.

  “I know how to unlock your memories.”

  He pulled me toward his body. “How?”

  I rested a hand on his chest and gulped. The organ beneath my palm thrummed a steady beat, which would have filled my heart with hope if Valentine wasn’t about to throw me in some kind of magically reinforced jail.

  Valentine’s pupils dilated, and he leaned into me with his nostrils flared. I stiffened. Such reactions on this version of the Vampire King weren’t a sign of arousal or interest. He was probably using his acute sense of smell to sniff out a lie.

  “We’re soulmates.” I raised my chin, meeting his indigo irises and daring him to delve into my memories.

  His gaze flicked down to my lips. “What brings you to such a conclusion?”

  “When you died, they took out your heart and placed it in a crystal jar. I connected with your soul.”

  “And where is your proof?” His voice dripped with disbelief. I was sure I heard a hint of mockery.

  My hand twitched toward the soul star in my pocket, but I curled my fingers into a fist and held it at my side. I couldn’t release it—not even to its rightful owner. Valentine might break or destroy the stone or hand it to someone for analysis, who would somehow take advantage.

  “I could show you memories of the time I spent with your soul,” I murmured. “Let you see us making love in a void of white and how you helped me to regain my power as a phoenix. But would you believe any of it?”

  “Never underestimate the power of imagination.” He cupped the side of my cheek the way he always did when we were close, and the pad of his thumb brushed against my cheekbone.

  The touch set my nerves alight, and made my breath quicken. Was he even aware of what he was doing? “Valentine,” I whispered. “I—”

  “Never underestimate the power of a being who can alter the mind of a seemingly innocent girl and plant her in the heart of his enemy’s stronghold.”

  The words hit like a slap, and I flinched away from his touch. “I’m not a Trojan horse.”

  “Which is why I intend to keep you safe.” He turned his gaze back to the door.

  “You say that like I’m a dangerous weapon.”

  Valentine inclined his head, not bothering to disagree. His grip on my arm tightened, and he continued toward the pulsing magic.

  Dread seized my entire body, tightening my muscles and sending a marrow-deep shudder to my bones. “What if that door leads me straight to Kresnik?” I whispered. “You saw how he nearly killed me.”

  “It won’t,” he said.

  I waited for Valentine to elaborate, but he didn’t. Images raced through my mind. A cage of magical bars that crackled at the merest touch, a transparent enclosure just like the one used to hold all those hellcats. Every powerful supernatural man I encountered wanted to keep me confined.

  Sweat broke out across my brow, and I punched uselessly at Valentine’s arm, but the wretched vampire didn’t break stride.

  My instincts told me to flare my magic, to burn him with a burst of flame that would make Valentine jump back and think twice about trying to confine me, but Valentine had suffered enough already, and I didn’t have the heart to cause him any more pain.

  Besides, if I fought Valentine with my magic, he would never trust me enough to reabsorb his nucleus. My heart sank. I’d never felt so powerless to act.

  “Please, don’t do this,” I whispered.

  “Kresnik won’t hurt you in this enclave and he also won’t have access to your power,” Valentine murmured. “As soon as the war ends, I will set you free.”

  “I’m not a bloody bird!”

  He raised his brow, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with my statement, and placed his palm on one of the door panels. It swung open, revealing a wall of tiny stars that shimmered like glitter. Static electricity crackled across my skin, and every fine hair on my body stood on end.

  My throat spasmed. I had never seen wards so thick and opaque and absolute. I turned to Valentine and gaped. “Are you putting me in a form of stasis?”

  The glitter paled to become transparent, revealing a two-story thatched cottage with bricks the color of gingerbread, set within a picturesque country garden.

  I reeled back. “You’re throwing me into the world of Hansel and Gretel?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, and he frogmarched me through the door.

  A barrier of magic held us for several moments, snapping and popping against my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, clenched my teeth, and tensed up, bracing myself for anything. This was a mix of faerie magic and angelic power with a crackle of demon. Whoever set up this ward was more powerful than anyone I’d ever encountered.

  After what felt like forever, the wards yielded, and my muscles relaxed. The scent of wildflowers filled my nostrils, making me feel safe enough
to crack open an eye.

  We stood within a meadow of wildflowers in bloom, an explosion of fuchsias and violets and sunset yellows amid poppies, daisies, clover, cornflowers, marigold, chamomile. A gentle breeze blew across the field and wrapped their floral scent around my senses, bringing with it a curl of Valentine’s magic.

  My breath caught. I shook my head, marveling at the surroundings, and relief escaped my lungs in an outward breath. Part of me had been expecting the worst. Perhaps a dank and dark and dreary space where I would sit out the rest of eternity in misery.

  Bumblebees floated from flower to flower, their furry bodies suspended by transparent wings that looked too delicate for their bulk. Among them were dragonflies in a range of shades as diverse as the meadow itself.

  “What is this place?” I whispered, my voice breathy with awe.

  “A pocket realm I commissioned especially for your confinement.” Valentine released my arm.

  I turned in a circle, only pausing on catching sight of the sole building within the enclosure, the bloody gingerbread house.

  It was perfectly symmetrical with a triangular porch in the middle that hung above its wooden door. The front of the cottage was a triangular structure with windows on either side of the door that housed window boxes crammed with herbs. To the structure’s left and right was the main part of the building, each side containing a downstairs window and dormers in its thatched roof.

  Breathtaking didn’t begin to describe this cozy home. In the human world, it would be a beautiful weekend getaway. For a witch, it was a palace. Plenty of land to grow food, a single dwelling without a close neighbor, and a floorspace that didn’t require magical expansion.

  “I thought you’d dump me in a prison.” The words slipped from my lips. The last thing I wanted Valentine to think was that I was pleased with this beautiful jail.

  He shook his head. “Despite everything that’s happened between us, you resurrected me. That’s not something I will ever forget.”

  All traces of goodwill he’d mustered up with the cottage and its grounds evaporated into the breeze. I whirled on the vampire and clenched my fists. “You say that like I murdered you, changed my mind, and tried to put things right.”