Allure of the Vampire King: A paranormal romance (Blood Fire Saga Book 1)

by Bella Klaus

  “Mera, dear.” Istabelle pointed at the shop’s glass door. “Will you bring in that package and see what’s inside?”

  A foot-high cardboard box sat in the doorway, presumably dumped there by a delivery driver who didn’t want to make a second round. I huffed an exasperated breath at the audacity of the man to dump our stock where anyone could have picked it up. What if it contained something valuable?

  Kain strode around the counter and opened the door. “I’ll get it.”

  “No.” Istabelle placed a hand on her chest. “My apprentice is more than capable…”

  Her voice trailed off because Kain had already reached the door and picked up the box. I glanced at the older woman, wondering what she saw in the boy that I couldn’t. His magic was so weak it barely registered through the power of the crystals. Kain was just like any other vampire at the academy.

  As he returned to the counter, I shouldered on a white coat, slipped on a pair of protective goggles, snapped on a pair of gloves, and picked up a box cutter. “Let’s see what’s arrived today.”

  The door opened, and Jonathan stepped inside, his blond hair blown in all directions by the wind. His eyes bulged, and his face broke into a smile. “Mera?”

  Bile rose to the back of my throat. Only twenty-four hours ago, I told him to leave me alone, and now he was back. “What are you doing—”

  “They’ve cordoned off Grosvenor Square,” he blurted. “Someone reported seeing a large cat as they drove past. When you weren’t in the shop, I thought the worst.”

  My lips formed a tight line. “I’m here now.”

  Jonathan stepped inside, blowing out an exaggerated relieved breath. When I continued glaring at him, pink spots bloomed across his cheeks. “Thank goodness for that,” he said, his voice trembling with nerves. “Where were you this morning? I waited outside the cordon—”

  “Are you stalking Miss Griffin?” Kain growled.

  Jonathan’s mouth fell open. “Stalk—” He turned to me with shocked eyes. “Mera, is that what you’re saying to people about me?”

  I rolled my eyes. Who had time to dwell on a nuisance like Jonathan in the light of shadow mage assassins, Bengal cats that transformed into monstrous leopards, and annoying vampires whose intentions may or may not be nefarious?

  “Anyone listening to you can work that out from what you’re saying,” I snapped. “Now, for the third time, will you please leave and never return?”

  Jonathan sniffed. “Actually, I’m here to buy some rose quartz.”

  Kain placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. The young man was about five-ten, looked sixteen or seventeen, and probably hadn’t finished growing. “Try eBay.” He marched Jonathan toward the exit and opened the door, letting in a gust of cold wind and busy traffic. “This place doesn’t serve stalkers.”

  Jonathan gaped at me over his shoulder. “Another man, Mera? How old is this one?”

  I bit back the urge to tell him it was none of his business, but doing so would only give him some sort of validation.

  I had no idea what was wrong with Jonathan. He was persistent beyond reason. While most men gave up after two or three attempts, he kept going and going. Someone needed to teach him a bit of self-restraint.

  After giving Jonathan a hard shove, making him stumble onto the sidewalk, Kane waited at the door with his arms crossed.

  Jonathan stood on the other side of the display with his mouth flapping open and closed, looking like an abandoned bear. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and trudged in the direction of Starbucks.

  Kain turned back to where I stood behind the counter. “Are you alright?”

  Nodding, I picked up a box cutter. “Thanks for getting rid of him.”

  “What was that guy’s name? I need to report all unsavory characters who come after you to Valentine.”

  “You can tell Valentine that who I associate with is none of his business,” I snapped, immediately feeling guilty for being rude.

  Kain raised his shoulders and walked around the store, picking up stones and rolling them around in his hands.

  I glanced at Istabelle, wondering what she thought of this newcomer, but she gazed at him with the same soft-eyed admiration she used to look at Valentine. I pursed my lips and tore open the box with the cutter. Kain had better not be Valentine’s secret son.

  Inside the box were angel figurines made of opalite. It was a man-made substance created to mimic opal with an iridescent sheen that also mimicked moonstone. They held no magic—not even a trace of the bright light associated with the power of angels. I dusted them off and placed them on the shelves.

  Istabelle remained in the shop for the rest of the morning, trying to engage Kain in conversation. The young vampire remained polite, giving her one-word answers.

  As I tidied and rearranged the shelves, I discovered that he’d grown up in Glastonbury, was new to Logris, and hadn’t yet enrolled in the academy. A secret lovechild?

  I only listened with half an ear because Istabelle’s words kept swirling through my mind. There was no way I could be a fire mage. Someone would have noticed sparks flying from my fingers by now. Besides, even the latest of developers came into their power by the age of twenty-one. I was three years overdue.

  Excusing myself, I walked around the counter, through the door that led to the library, and down its wooden steps.

  The floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves beckoned, and the cleansing scent of the crystals that maintained the books filled my nostrils. A layer of stress I hadn’t felt before melted away, loosening the tension around my chest and shoulders.

  Exhaling my relief to finally be alone, I walked alongside the collection of books, looking for anything I could find on fire users.

  Istabelle kept a few history books among her tomes on magic and healing, but usually sold anything of particular interest on Supernet, our equivalent of the World Wide Web.

  History wasn’t my favorite subject. It was mostly tales of politics and battles and plots to drag the earth into hell.

  With every species having their own ruler and each ruler having an equal amount of power within the Supernatural Council, Logris enjoyed five hundred years of relative peace. Some of the Council members were older than humanity, with some of the younger members ruling in proxy for ancestors in other planes.

  Next to a leather-bound tome called Laws and Treaties for Supernatural Separation was another called Dragon-Kind. I skipped over it as the last dragon had died three thousand years ago, and I wanted something from around the time of Kresnik. My gaze landed on The Witchcraft Act of King Henry VIII.

  I pulled out the book and flipped through the heavy parchment. Henry VIII was the ruler of England in the sixteenth century, who introduced the witch trials that drove both mages and witches underground. I placed the tome on the table for later, continuing my search.

  Twenty minutes later, I found another book called Fire Suppression Through the Ages, and returned to the table.

  As I flipped through the first few pages of the fire suppression book, footsteps creaked from above. I glanced up to find Kain descending the stairs.

  My brows pulled together in a frown. “The basement is perfectly secure. I’ll be safe down here.”

  “I brought us some hot chocolate from Paul Young’s,” he said.

  Saliva flooded my mouth. The hot chocolate from that bakery was one of the best in London. Unlike the overly sweet, milky concoction available from places like Starbucks and Pret a Manger, Paul’s hot chocolate was deeply delicious and darkly decadent.

  My gaze darted up the stairs. “Istabelle doesn’t let me have food or drink down here.”

  “She said it was okay.” Kain offered me a shy smile.

  I moved the leather tomes to the far end of the table, away from the armchairs. “Thanks.” My gaze lingered on the paper bag in his hand. “That was really thoughtful.”

  Kain raised a shoulder. “Valentine said it was your favorite.”

  “How do you t
wo know each other?” I licked my lips, wiping my palms on my white coat. “You told Istabelle that you didn’t grow up in Logris.”

  “He tracked me down to a foster home, saying he was a distant cousin.” Kain pulled out two insulated cardboard cups, letting out warm gusts of cacao that made my stomach gurgle.

  I was only vaguely aware of foster homes from what I picked up watching television. Most people in Logris belonged to covens, clans, houses, packs, legions, or choirs.

  Supernatural children were precious and it was rare for one to grow up outside some kind of family unit. In the Natural World, orphaned children were handed over to strangers paid to provide care.

  “What was it like, growing up on the outside?” I asked.

  “What was it like to grow up in Logris?” he asked with a smile.

  I smiled back, realizing my question had been dumb. Neither of us had any comparisons since we’d both experienced a single world as children.

  “May I ask you a question?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Why do you work in a place like this when you have Valentine?”

  All my good humor drained to the soles of my shoes, and I set down my cup. “What’s he said about me?”

  “Not much,” Kain said, his tone defensive. “Only to watch out for you here and at your house while he was away.”

  “Where’s he gone?” I asked.

  “The Supernatural Council called him in for an urgent meeting,” he said with a shrug. “He left a group of guards watching the shop from across the road and around the back.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He flinched. “I wouldn’t presume to question Valentine.”

  I leaned forward. “Why did he send a young vampire?”

  Kain glanced away, his lips forming a tight line. “He trusts me.”

  My eyes narrowed, and I remembered something Valentine’s servants had told me on the steps of the palace. “Are you his heir?”

  Kain arched his brow. “You mean the Dick Grayson to his Bruce Wayne?”

  I tilted my head to the side and frowned. “Who?”

  He huffed a laugh. “Never mind.”

  Brushing that aside, I took a sip of the hot chocolate, enjoying how its bitter flavors mingled with the sweet creaminess to create the perfect mouthful.

  Something was different about Kain. I’d grown up with young vampires and they didn’t come into their power until their fangs had descended.

  Earlier, his power had seemed weak but up close, it varied from barely registering to as strong as Valentine. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what was so special about this boy to have been taken in by the King of the Vampires.

  As if inspiration had struck, the words tumbled from my lips. “You’re a pure-blood.”

  Kain’s lips tightened. “If you mean that my parents were both vampires, they were.”

  My brows rose. “Does that mean you’ll become the next king?”

  “Hopefully not for a few centuries,” he muttered under his breath.

  We fell silent for several moments, and I wondered if Valentine wanted to retire from ruling the vampires at some point in the future.

  Kain cleared his throat, making me meet his sapphire eyes. “I don’t know what happened between you and Valentine, but he wouldn’t put all this effort into you if he didn’t think you were special. Give him a break, alright?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kain’s words stuck with me the entire day. As Grosvenor Square was still cordoned off due to the sightings of a large cat, Kain and I took the bus back to the villa in Notting Hill, where he gave me an official tour of the safe house.

  Afterward, we shared a meal of gourmet burgers, while Macavity joined us for a bowl of chopped tuna.

  I expected Valentine to have made an appearance by now, but he was probably giving me space. It had been clever of him to introduce me to someone who’d grown up in the human world and hadn’t been in Logris at the time of my humiliation.

  Kain might be a pure-blood vampire, but everything else about him seemed mostly human… at least it would be until he came of age.

  Valentine was probably grooming him for rulership, as pure-bloods automatically gained the status of king, no matter the circumstances of their birth.

  At the end of the evening, another vampiric presence drifted into my awareness. It wasn’t as powerful as Valentine’s, and I guessed he was still busy with the Supernatural Council.

  Kain rose from the sofa. “Good night.”

  “Where are you staying?” he asked.

  “With a group of others in the villa across the road,” Kain murmured.

  I bit down on my lip. Normally, I would have sensed those vampires if they were so close. Perhaps they were wearing Cleopatra stone.

  After Kain left, I went upstairs with Macavity on my heels and stepped into my room.

  The cat bounded across the wooden floor and leaped on the bed. He circled the middle, kneaded the quilt with his paws, and settled into a little ball of leopard skin fur.

  I stood at the doorway and smirked. It didn’t matter where he lay. When he was in his Bengal form, I was the giant who could push him around. “Sleep anywhere you like.”

  The bedroom’s square windows overlooked the villa’s garden, a paved space of white slabs, raised flower beds, and potted trees. In between them and opposite the bed stood a dresser with an ornate mirror etched in gold. I opened a drawer, hoping that someone had transferred my night clothes from home, but found it filled with brand new clothes.

  I pulled out a silver nightgown of washed silk and read the label. “La Perla?”

  This was Beatrice’s favorite brand. In the drawer above were lots of bra and knickers sets. The one that caught my eye was a rich green that contrasted with the red of my hair. With an excited giggle, I laid it on the white quilt, took a photo, and I sent it to my friend via text.

  Her reply was immediate. Where did you get that?

  I texted back. My temporary pad in Notting Hill.

  What happened to the old one? she replied.

  I stared at the screen, wondering how I could explain things to a girl forbidden to know anything about the Supernatural World. Pest control issues. There’s a pool and sauna downstairs. Want to come around and play?

  You had me at pool. What’s the address?

  I sent her the location via google maps. See you in the morning?

  Guess who’s back on the app, prowling for new conquests? His headline says he’s looking for a special relationship!

  What’s wrong with these men? I shook my head. One of these days, he would mess with the wrong woman, and she would teach him not to fake a long-term interest when all he wanted was a fling.

  She messaged back. I know. See you tomorrow.

  On the right side of the room was the door that led to the bathroom, but I hadn’t yet explored the door on the far left on the same wall as the head of the four-poster.

  I walked around the king-sized bed, keeping my gaze on Macavity, whose ribs rose and fell with deep breaths. Cats were so lucky with their ability to take long naps. He probably tired himself out with last night’s transformation.

  The door led to a walk-in wardrobe with its own window, a dressing table and open closets running along three of the walls. Some of the closet contained garment rails long enough to house full-length dresses and coats, some were shorter and held shirts, jackets, and bottoms.

  Among the rails were racks for shoes, shelves for accessories, drawers, and spaces up high for luggage. I turned in a circle, looking for clues as to Valentine’s true intentions.

  The closets were half-full of clothing in my size and the style I used to wear when we were dating. It was as though this was my starter wardrobe and he would permit me to buy additional items.

  My throat thickened, and I gulped several times in quick succession. I didn’t know if I should be troubled or touched. The portraits from my cottage, the brand new clothes, the sexy lingerie. This wasn�
�t a temporary safe house.

  It looked like Valentine intended for me to stay here… either until the crisis was over or until he tired of keeping me.

  The old me would have been thrilled at these wonderful gifts but the new me needed answers. Answers about what happened that night, answers about the threat hanging over my head, and answers about his intentions.

  In the restaurant, he spoke as though Aunt Arianna had begged him for help, but this was going beyond a favor for an old flame.

  I thought through my situation for hours that night, shifting position until Macavity got sick of my restlessness and slept on the windowsill. No amount of coaxing could get him to return, and I ended up lying on my back, staring at the ceiling until my eyes became too heavy and dry to stay open.

  What seemed like moments later, sunlight streaming in through the blinds woke me the next morning.

  Since I couldn’t get back to sleep, I stepped into the ensuite, a gray-marbled space twice the size of the walk-in wardrobe that boasted a clawfoot tub, two sinks and a walk-in shower the same length and width as the bathroom in my studio.

  I stood beneath the hot spray, letting the water pressure pummel my skin. No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t work out what Valentine wanted from me. If he ever showed his face again, I would ask him if he suspected me of being a wielder of fire. Then, I’d examine him for microexpressions to work out the truth.

  Afterward, I changed into a bright-blue bikini and examined myself in the mirror. The warm shower brought out some color to my skin, removing some of the paleness that dulled my complexion during the winter.

  I’d lost a little weight since the last time we had travelled to Madeira in Valentine’s yacht, but I still managed to retain enough curves to fit the bikini.

  The doorbell rang. I slipped on some sandals, shouldered on a dressing gown, and nearly tripped over an outraged Macavity as I dashed through the hallway and ran downstairs.

  A faint presence lurked close to the house. Since it had the smoky texture of a vampire and not a shadow mage’s absence of heat or a shifter’s jagged edges, I continued across the downstairs hallway to find Beatrice at the doorstep.