by Bella Klaus
Pulling back my shoulders, I said in my calmest, clearest voice. “Bring out King Valentine. He will tell you I’m the guest of honor.”
Caiman’s lips formed a thin line of disapproval. “I hardly think that’s wise.”
“Do as the girl says,” drawled the blue-haired vampire woman from earlier. “Perhaps then, we might get a chance for a drink.”
Someone snickered at the double-entendre. I was nobody’s bloody snack.
Caiman inclined his head and disappeared through the palace’s double doors.
“She’s always been like this,” said a snide voice from further down the stairs.
I turned around and placed my hands on my hips. One would think that the voice of my former academy tormentor at a time like this would make me cringe, but it was oddly comforting to deal with a familiar form of disdain.
The crowd parted, and Ellora Vandamir sashayed up the stairs, clad in a silver dress a shade darker than her quicksilver hair. With the glitter sparkles catching the moonlight, she looked like she’d been doused in the stars. Behind her were two raven-haired vampire sisters from the academy whose names I didn’t care to remember.
Ellora pressed a delicate hand to her cheek and preened at the crowd’s admiring glances. That was the thing about vampires. They were physically stunning creatures, regardless of whether or not their insides were as ugly as sin.
“My lady, you know this human?” asked a voice in the crowd.
“Mera Griffin was in our year at academy and was always making scenes.” Ellora tossed her head and snorted. “Always so desperate to compensate for her lack of magic, always trying and failing to outsmart her betters.”
“I’m a Neutral, and as you know, humans aren’t allowed into the academy.” I forced my lips into a smile. “And it’s sad to see that you’re still sore that I excelled in theory-based classes while you failed yours.”
Ellora bared her teeth. “How far did that get you, blood cow?”
I forced myself not to flinch. “One would think that the girl who has everything wouldn’t be so desperate for attention. You’ve only just arrived and already insinuated yourself in the middle of a scene.”
Someone chuckled, and petty triumph flared across my chest. She was never the smartest of girls and usually tried to make up for her disappointing grades by highlighting my lack of magic.
Ellora’s face twisted into the usual rictus of anger she made whenever someone failed to react to her barbs.
“Mera?” A deep voice curled around my senses.
All thoughts of Ellora and the crowd of vampires faded into the background, and I turned around to meet the owner of that voice.
Valentine stood in the doorway, wearing a black tuxedo tailored around his muscular physique. Its bowtie and silk lapels were a red so dark that they appeared black, but the effect only accentuated his masculine beauty.
As usual, he wore his black hair off his face, but the moonlight shone through its ends like tendrils of silver. It brought out the copper tones in his bronze skin, the contour of his cheekbones, and his full cupid’s bow lips.
Warmth spread through my insides, melting my heart, and all notions of academy mean girls, haughty aristocrats, and rude servants evaporated into the ether. Valentine always had that effect on me. Whenever he was around, he consumed my full attention, making me less aware of my surroundings. He was everything I needed—teacher, best friend, lover, protector. We had been together so long that he had woven himself into the tapestry of my soul.
I inhaled a deep breath, my chest expanding with love. With Valentine at the door, everything would be fine. He would declare his love to me in front of the other vampires and tell them that he would make me his wife and their queen.
“I heard you were having a little difficulty,” he said, his eyes softening.
“Just a little,” I replied with a smile. “The footmen at the door have forgotten that this is our engagement ball.”
His lips curved into a smile. “Engagement?”
Doubt crept across my skin like a wintry breeze, cooling the warmth in my chest. I exhaled a long breath. “Valentine, you proposed—”
“I proposed.” His voice was flat, all traces of his smile gone.
“Yes.”
The crowd’s murmurs filled the edge of my awareness, seeping through the bubble of security that I always felt around Valentine.
His brows knitted into a frown. “We had an arrangement,” he said in the type of even tone people used to explain things to incurable idiots. “One common among vampires who require small quantities of blood.”
All sensation drained from my face, concentrating on my cooling heart. He was about to describe me as a blood cow. My throat dried, and I swallowed several times in quick succession. During the three years Valentine had courted me, he had never once asked for my blood. Even when I had offered, he had refused, saying he wanted our souls to connect before we became physical.
Without meaning to, my hand snaked up to my neck. He had only bitten me once, and that had been earlier today—the first time we’d made love.
“Why are you saying this?” My voice broke
“Mera.” Valentine folded his arms, his features hardening with impatience. “We agreed I would take a small amount of your blood in exchange for a monthly stipend. We also agreed it would be for a limited time.”
My hackles rose, and I felt as exposed as an injured mouse surrounded by hungry cats. Every instinct in my body told me I should leave with my tattered dignity. Leave before I humiliated myself further. The vampires standing on the steps closed in around me, their excited breaths rasping against my taut nerves.
I couldn’t leave. Leaving would be an admission of defeat. Leaving would forever scar me as the blood cow who dared to think I could become the equal of a vampire king. Leaving would mean that every insult girls like Ellora Vandamir had ever hurled at me had come true.
“Then how do you explain this engagement ring?” I raised my left hand.
Valentine pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling a weary breath. “It’s a call stone enchanted to bring you to me whenever I am in need.”
The crowd burst into laughter, each sound of mirth hitting me like a slap. And a huff of incredulity erupted from my throat.
Call stones were a throwback from the days before the Seven Monarchs of the Supernatural Council. Back then, the stronger beings could enslave the weaker, making them serve as cows, concubines, tributes—anything. No matter how far the slave managed to escape, the stone would transport them to their master with a single thought. They weren’t tokens of love but a symbol of bondage.
I glanced from side to side, my gaze filling with a sea of mocking faces. Some of them had even exposed their fangs as though wanting to sample the Vampire King’s cast-off.
Valentine appeared a foot away from me, filling my nostrils with his intoxicating masculine scent. “Thank you for the donations, but your services are no longer required.”
“Because you have an heir?” The words slipped from my lips.
He shook his head. “Mortals are like apples.” The crowd quietened to hear his declaration. “Some would say they were the forbidden fruit, but there are fruits more flavorful and sweeter. The trouble with apples is that once you’ve taken a bite, they rot.”
I flinched, my face burning with shame.
“Poor Mera Griffin,” Ellora said in a mocking sing-song. “The cow with the sour milk. Twenty-one years of age and already past her prime.”
Valentine tilted his head to the side and the corner of his mouth curled up. After confiding in the wretched bastard about the hardships I’d experienced at the academy, he was bloody agreeing with Ellora’s taunts.
This was as much as a girl could take. I spun on my heel, picked up my skirt and descended a step.
Ellora stood in my path with a broad grin of gleaming silver eyes and dazzling teeth. I shoved past her with a snarl, but she held onto my wrist.
“Release her,” said Va
lentine.
Ellora let go of my arm, and the crowd behind her parted. I continued down the steps, ignoring the other girls’ whispered taunts. Up ahead was the car that had taken me home only hours before, and the same driver stood at the open passenger door.
“Of course, your highness,” Ellora said in a loud voice. “Mera Griffin is a creature to be pitied, not mocked.”
“Indeed,” Valentine replied.
Anger slammed into my gut. I turned around, pulled off the engagement ring, and hurled it at Valentine’s face. “Take back your call stone and stick it up your ass.”
Disapproval tightened his lips, and he caught it out of the air. I turned back to the car, stepped inside, and sat with as much dignity as I could muster. Frantic breaths heaved in and out of my lungs, and I glowered at the crowd of vampire nobles disappearing through the palace’s double doors.
Why? My hands clenched into fists. Why did he declare his love for me one minute and dismiss me as a blood cow the next?
“Miss Griffin?” The driver’s face appeared through the gap in the door. “Are you alright?”
“Take me home,” I rasped. “Please.”
“As you wish.” He shut the door and walked around the car.
It was only when he had fired up the engine and the car pulled out of the driveway that I raised my head again. Valentine stood at the doors with Caiman, both seeming to want to make sure that the intruder had gone. I shook my head. All these years, had he been playing some kind of sick game?
The car continued down the long driveway that led to the twelve-foot-tall iron gates that surrounded the palace’s grounds. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, and I stared down at my lap. If Valentine had wanted me for my blood, he could have asked for an arrangement. The answer would have been no because I had always wanted more from life than selling my body.
I gulped back a sob. Even if he’d changed his mind about marrying me, why go to the effort of buying a dress, arranging a ball, and having his driver bring me here? It was almost as though he had wanted everyone to witness me brought low.
The scent of burning hair filled my nostrils. I glanced into my lap to find dark patches of charred fabric on the silk of my skirt. My shoulders slumped. Bloody Ellora Vandamir or one of her sycophantic friends must have put something on my dress.
My throat dried, and my vision turned black. The smell of burning continued, only this time, it smelled like overheated cables. I jerked back and snapped my eyes open to the sounds of alarms blaring overhead. Masood’s shouts and roars to be let out rang through my ears, making my heart rate double.
Foot-long flames danced over the legs of my prison jumpsuit, and smoke rose from the fire, spreading across the white ceiling tiles like thick clouds. A shocked breath hissed through my teeth, and I scrambled to my feet to find my palms still on fire.
I’d done it.
Pressing both palms against the invisible magic encasing my booth, I concentrated my flames in an effort to burn a hole large enough to make my escape. I still didn’t know what phoenix flames were good for apart from healing, but the fire of such an ancient magical creature had to be more powerful than any enchantment set up by the Council’s enforcers.
Magical flames cracked and popped across the barrier, and soon spread around its surface, forming a flaming disc that spread from eye level to two feet off the ground.
My breathing quickened and I poured every ounce of anger, frustration, humiliation and confusion into the flames. That meditation had helped me tap into my power, but I was still no closer to identifying the unseen enemy who had messed with my mind.
I clenched my teeth. Because of that person, I had stayed longer than necessary on the palace steps and allowed that wretched Ellora Vandamir to get the better of me. Worse, because of that person, Valentine was now dead and at threat of becoming a monster.
“Girl,” Masood roared. “That’s magical fire.”
Ignoring him, I pushed against the flames and stepped out into the larger room.
Masood stood in his booth with his huge body pressed against the invisible barrier. His arms had lengthened, and a thick covering of fur spread around his face and down his neck. From the shortness of his bent legs, I guessed he was a gorilla shifter.
“Let me out,” he bellowed.
I rushed past Masood to the exit and ran my flaming hands over its seal. White sparks of magic crackled under my fingertips, and the wood turned to char. The flames coating my hands fizzled, leaving them only the barest trace of smoke. Clenching my teeth, I drew back my fist and punched through the blackened wood, only to find a translucent barrier of shimmering magic, reflecting every color of the rainbow.
Behind the wall stood four figures in black. All the triumph inflating my chest turned to dread and dropped into the pit of my belly like a stone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The door rattled and then exploded in a spray of splinters. I raised my arms above my head, stumbling back into the room, but metallic shards sliced my forearms and I fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
Four enforcers rushed at me, their arms outstretched and strings of shadow bursting from their fingers. They wrapped around my neck, my shoulders, my thighs, raising me off the ground and throwing me into the wall. Pain slammed against my spine and radiated from the back of my head. I cried out, but a shadow slipped between my lips, filled my mouth, and slithered down my throat.
Despair filled my chest with a lead weight, and everything Aunt Arianna had told me to do rolled out of my mind, replacing its contents with blank panic. So much for managing to escape. I hadn’t even gotten as far as the door.
Clicking footsteps approached, and Captain Zella strolled in from the hallway, now dressed in black, her stern features pinched. “Your powers have returned.” She cast her gaze to the doorway, where a quartet of enforcers stood in the shadows with only the barest of light reflecting off the leather of their caps. “Arrest Arianna Griffin and bring the rest of the coven into custody, pending developments with King Valentine.”
I screamed, but the gag of shadows muffled the sound.
“Miss Griffin.” Captain Zella stood six feet away from me with her arms behind her back. “If you list all accomplices who helped conceal your fire magic from the Council’s attention, I can guarantee you all painless deaths.”
Behind the captain, a fully transformed Masood pounded his fists against the invisible barrier, shaking his head from side to side.
We weren’t exactly allies, and it wasn’t like I would admit to anyone having helped me. Valentine knew about my burgeoning power, as did Aunt Arianna. I suspected Istabelle also knew and had been keeping her eye on my magic, looking for changes. It explained why she instantly recognized the firestone and hadn’t been alarmed when it had stuck to my skin.
I shook my head.
The captain sighed. “Don’t condemn those who tried to protect your secret. Do you know what the Council does to the souls of those who harbor abominations like you?”
Every muscle in my body stiffened, and the fiery eyes of the Demon King filled my memory. They’d probably send Aunt Arianna to hell, so she’d become a demon’s plaything. The laws protecting weaker supernaturals didn’t apply in other realms, and some of the stories of what demons could do to people made my stomach churn.
Something must have shown in my face because Captain Zella told her enforcers to release my mouth. The shadows slipped out from my throat, down my tongue and out from my lips, making me cough and gasp. It had been like choking on a ghost of water—all the sensation of suffocating but still able to breathe.
“Who helped to keep you hidden all these years?” she asked.
“My magic developed on its own,” I said through spluttering breaths. “Today was the first time I expressed it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting that the Neutral blood transfusion triggered this magical outburst of fire?”
I flinched, hoping Captain Zella wouldn’t call for the
blood donors to also get arrested. “Of course not!”
She turned to a male enforcer. “Perform the tests.”
He slipped his hand into a pouch he kept on a holster of his black uniform pants and pulled out a device the size of a remote control. As though something about me was infectious, he wrapped his shadows around the object and pointed it to my chest, making it beep like a Geiger counter.
I held my breath, not knowing if this was a good sign or bad.
The shadow mage moved the measuring device up my left, making the beeps slow. As he moved it to the right, they quickened. Sweat gathered on my brow, and I glanced over the enforcer’s shoulders to meet Masood’s wide amber eyes. His gorilla mouth gaped open as though this was the most thrilling show in Logris.
A high-pitched screech filled the air, and the shadow mage turned to the captain. “All the magic is coming from her right hand.”
Captain Zella stepped forward and pulled down the sleeve of my prison jumpsuit. “Where did you get that bracelet?”
I turned to my wrist to find the tattoo gone. In its place was the row of firestone hearts. Each stone’s interior burned with orange flames.
Hope filled my chest, and I sent Aunt Arianna a silent word of thanks. Somehow, during my meditation, it had worked its way out from under my flesh. Perhaps now, they would blame the stones for the fire that had set off the alarms.
“Who gave it to you?” asked the captain.
My tongue darted out to lick my lips. “There was a jewelry sale—”
“Where?” She stalked toward me, stopping six inches away from where her enforcers had pinned me against the wall with their magic.
“Outside Hyde Park.” I choked out the words, hoping they would convince her of my innocence. “Some people put blankets on the floor and sell trinkets. I really liked the look of this bracelet because it reminded me of fire.”
“That is firestone,” she snarled.
I made my eyes go round and let my mouth drop open. “What’s that? I thought it was a new form of citrine.”
Annoyance tightened her features. “And you call yourself Istabelle Bonham-Sackville’s apprentice?”
