by Bella Klaus
Cold shock barreled into my gut. I spun to find Constantine glowering at me, his eyes a deep crimson. “What are you—”
“Isn’t it bad enough that you killed my brother?” he sneered.
“It’s not what you think.” I took a step back and bumped into a hard body.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist. I twisted my head and glowered into the red eyes of Ferdinand, who grinned at me with his fangs extended.
“You smell delicious,” he purred.
“What?” I glanced down at my leg to find the curse had returned. “This isn’t really my scent. It’s a curse—”
“But a blessing for us,” Constantine said with a chuckle. The blond-haired vampire swaggered toward me, also baring his fangs. “Those bastards on the Supernatural Council wouldn’t let us interrogate you. They cared more about suppressing a potential fire wielder than avenging the death of one of their fellow monarchs.”
My throat dried, and I parted my lips to sputter out a plea for mercy, but the air shifted, and Sylvester appeared, his handsome features a mask of hatred.
Out of the four brothers, he looked the most like Valentine, with the same full lips with a deep cupid’s bow, but his silver hair and eyes were in stark contrast to Valentine’s. “At least we understand why Valentine was so fixated on a Neutral and why he didn’t take another lover after he discarded you.”
I pressed my lips together, not daring to contradict the oldest of Valentine’s brothers.
Lazarus was the last to arrive, casting his gaze up and down my body with a feral grin. “What I don’t understand is why our brother ever relinquished such a delicious-smelling morsel.”
My pulse fluttered in my throat like a trapped moth. If I didn’t flare out my fire and scare these vampires with a demonstration of my power, they would tire of frightening me and start feeding.
I pushed my magic down my arms, making my palms glow. “Wait!”
Lazarus gave me a slow, sarcastic clap. “Congratulations,” he murmured. “It seems that you’re something other than a Neutral.”
The corner of Sylvester’s lips curled into the barest trace of a smile. “What a pity you’ll never get a chance to develop that power.”
“Valentine wouldn’t have wanted this.” The words blurted from my lips as I waved my glowing palms. “He came to London to protect me—”
“More fool him,” said Lazarus. “He should have drained your worthless body and left you an exsanguinated corpse.”
“Which is exactly what we’re going to do to you,” said Constantine.
I struggled in Ferdinand’s arms, but the vampire’s grip was immovable. He rubbed the tip of his nose against my neck, filling my ears with his harsh laughter.
“We will do nothing of the sort,” said Sylvester.
“Don’t tell me you want to hand her over to the Supernatural Council?” Ferdinand snarled.
Sylvester shook his head. “I say we keep her in the palace as a blood cow.”
Lazarus snorted. “I say we drain her right here and burn her when we cremate Valentine.”
The brothers continued arguing about what to do with me, Sylvester and Ferdinand wanting to keep me alive for an eternity of suffering, and Lazarus and Constantine wanting to drink me right here before the Supernatural Council discovered I’d escaped from my cell.
Ferdinand’s lips grazed my neck, making all the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Right now, the brothers were clear-minded, but if any of them so much as got a taste of my accursed blood, they would all set upon me like leeches.
“I can restore Valentine,” I shouted over their discussion.
The three brothers turned to me, and Ferdinand drew back from my neck.
“What did you say?” asked Lazarus.
“Valentine sent me away because he noticed I was having power flares and would probably develop into fire magic.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. “I have phoenix flames. If you let me burn his corpse with my magic, a new Valentine will emerge from the ashes.”
Lazarus scoffed. “Some people will say anything to stay alive.”
Ferdinand’s arms around my waist tightened, pulling me into his hard body. The red-haired vampire snarled, and my chest exploded with a flare of panic.
“It’s true,” I said in a high-pitched squeal. “Just look at my hands.”
Ferdinand loosened his grip and held me with one arm. With his free hand, he grabbed my right wrist and jerked out my arm, making my palm face upward. “That’s not fire.”
Lazarus bent down and sniffed. “It’s more like heat or light.”
“So, she’s a light mage, pretending to have fire,” Constantine drawled. “We should definitely kill her right now for her insolence.”
“No,” I yelped.
Sylvester’s lips thinned. “Alright then. Lay her on a stone, and we’ll divide her into quarters. Two at the jugular and two at the femoral.”
Ferdinand hesitated for a few seconds before lifting me into his arms and carrying me across the room toward an empty plinth. The other brothers walked behind us, speaking in low voices. Blood roared between my ears, and my pulse raced so loud and fast that the beats mingled into each other to make a continuous sound.
“Please, don’t do this,” I screamed.
Whatever Ferdinand replied was muffled by the sounds of my panic. He lowered me onto a cold stone plinth and pressed a gentle hand on my belly to keep me in place.
I yelled and kicked and screamed, glaring up at four handsome faces—Constantine snarling, Lazarus smiling, Ferdinand salivating, and Sylvester staring down at me with cold disdain. Each of them carried features in common with Valentine that broke my heart.
They continued staring down at me, unmoving, letting my panic heighten until it burned itself out, and my limbs slumped onto the now-warm stone. My heart thrummed a sluggish beat of exhausted resignation to match my numb defeat. I swallowed, my throat hoarse from screaming.
“Good girl,” Ferdinand whispered, his voice clipped by his extended fangs. “That shot of adrenaline will make you taste all the sweeter.”
“Right jugular.” Sylvester moved to my right side.
Lazarus moved to my left and grabbed my leg. “Left femoral.”
Constantine claimed the right femoral, and Ferdinand claimed the left jugular. I stared at the mausoleum’s painted ceiling of robed beings, hoping my death would be painless. Only one vampire had ever bitten me, and I was about to be besieged by four.
“Make it quick,” I murmured. “Please.”
“Once we’ve drained you to the brink of death, we’ll take you to our personal physician, who will arrange for donors to restore you to health,” Constantine murmured in my ear, his warm breath fanning against my skin and making me cringe. “You’ll wish you’d never murdered my brother.”
“Bon appétit,” said Sylvester.
A cold gust of wind whistled through the mausoleum, knocking all four brothers to the ground. I tried to raise my head, but the force of the wind kept me pinned to the stone. Fresh terror trickled down my spine. Had the enforcers tracked me down already?
Constantine’s prone body spiraled into the air, his arms and legs outstretched. The wind spun him around before hurling him the width of the space and into the statue I had used as a hiding place. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. This was the work of an air mage or an extremely powerful witch.
Hope filled my chest as I clung to the edges of the stone plinth, letting my savior lift each brother one-by-one off the ground and into a wall or a pillar or the ceiling. Debris and plaster flew within the whirlwind of power, and the air shook with a low howl.
My heart thrummed hard enough to make my rib cage vibrate. Whoever was behind this magic wanted to punish Valentine’s brothers. Who else could it be but Aunt Arianna? She was the only person who would know exactly where I needed to go. Long, even breaths heaved in and out of my lungs. I was safe, and best of all, this was my chance to carry out our plan
to restore Valentine.
The wind stopped, and the brother at the ceiling fell to the ground in a cloud of dust. I raised myself off the plinth and dropped to the marble floor, not waiting for the air to settle.
A low voice groaned, and my heart somersaulted within my chest. That wind had only slowed the brothers. In a moment, they would rise and try to drink my blood again.
I sprinted across the mausoleum floor, passing empty plinths where the transcended vampires had been blown off their resting places. My boots crunched on broken plaster and debris from the whirlwind.
There was absolutely no way I could muster up enough power in time to burn Valentine before the brothers attacked. Only Valentine remained on his plinth, as his brothers or the Supernatural Council had secured his body to the stone with metal stakes.
As I passed Valentine’s corpse, I sent him a silent apology and promised to return. My experience with his brothers just proved me incapable of generating the magic to overpower the firestone Aunt Arianna had infused in my blood.
The stone door of the crypt now gaped open, and I raced toward it. Whoever had saved me hadn’t shown themselves and was either waiting for me outside or close but invisible.
Constantine appeared between me and the door. “What did you do?”
My feet skidded to a halt, and I raised my glowing palms, making him flinch. “Stay away.”
“What are you, an air mage?” asked Lazarus from behind.
I spun, putting an equal amount of distance between myself and both brothers. “Do you want me to blast you again?” I injected as much conviction into my voice as I could, hoping they would mistake me for my mysterious savior. “Take one step toward me, and I’ll slit your throats.”
“Careful, girl,” said Sylvester from the other side of the mausoleum. “You’re already under a death sentence for murdering our brother.”
“And I told you I could bring him to life with my magic,” I shouted.
“As a preternatural vampire?” Lazarus rose from behind a plinth and stalked toward me, all traces of levity on his usually cheerful features gone. “I’ll kill you—”
A blur whizzed behind Lazarus, throwing him into the ceiling. It struck out at Sylvester next, then Ferdinand, and then Constantine.
I turned to the door to make my escape, but bumped into a cold, hard body. When I tilted my head up, it was to look into the blazing red eyes of Valentine’s gray corpse.
Every muscle on my bones turned to sludge, and I collapsed onto my knees, hitting the grainy floor with a cry.
Valentine had just risen as one of the undead.
He was a dangerous preternatural vampire.
END OF BOOK ONE
READ BOOK TWO
Also by Bella Klaus
Abducted: A Hades and Persephone Dark Romance
I had a one-night stand with the devil. Now he thinks I’m his wife.
I snuck into a masquerade ball and did something reckless with a man dressed as Hades. How was I supposed to know it wasn’t a costume?
When I ran off, I thought that was the end of it. But he’s abducted me to a beautiful palace in hell…
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Night of the Vampire King
Join Bella’s mailing list for a free copy of Night of the Vampire King, a Blood Fire Saga story featuring more of Mera and Valentine!
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READ BOOK TWO
