by Bella Klaus
Cien stopped three feet away and rose onto his tiptoes, waving his hand over my face. “Just checking,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “It’s always hard to tell with vampires if these enchantments are actually working.”
How I wanted to strike out with a hand and wrap my fingers around his scrawny neck. With Valentine’s large hands, such a feat would be possible, but Cien edged forward, keeping his body pointed toward the door.
“One scratch,” he whispered to himself and double-checked the remote control keeping me rooted to the spot.
A growl rumbled from deep within my chest, making the assassin’s eyes bulge.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m not cut out for this cloak and dagger shit.”
As he stepped toward me, the weapon slipped out of his fingers, skittering inches from his feet. Realization struck me upside the head with a slap. I was using Valentine’s powers of telekinesis, the same magic he’d employed to throw his brothers halfway across a mausoleum when they’d tried to drink my blood.
I focused on the dagger, making it slide closer. Cien needed to be a foot away for my fire attacks to work, but if I could make its blade rise off the floor, I might be able to give him the scratch.
The assassin’s fingers closed around the weapon’s handle. He rose to his feet, the pulse in his throat fluttering and his gaze drifting to the chain around my neck. “What’s this?”
My breath caught. Was he going to rob me of the engagement ring?
He stepped closer, raising his fingers toward my sternum with a gleam in his eyes that suggested he’d already planned how he would spend the gold he’d get for pawning my diamond.
Just as the scent of his nervous sweat stung my nostrils, I pushed every ounce of magic into my meridians, through my skin, and in an even larger blaze of fire than ever, I transformed.
Shock barreled through my insides. Nobody had told me the corpusverto spell would allow shifters to retain their powers. Maybe it was because of my dual soul. It didn’t matter right now, because my flames flared out toward my assassin.
Fire raced down Cien’s sleeve, and his scream rang through my eardrums, but it was the most satisfying sound. The solid flame dagger fell to the ground with a clunk, and he staggered back several paces, trying to put out the flames.
“Put it out,” he screeched. “Turn it off.”
Time to test my ability to move within the enchantment as a phoenix. I raised my wings, spreading them wide, and clacked my beak in silent triumph.
Cien fell to the floor and rolled from side to side, screaming as the flames spread across the ivory rug. “How are you doing this?”
As much as I wanted to stand around and demand answers, I had to make sure this assassin never got another chance to attack Valentine. I walked around the cell with my wings outspread, setting everything alight from the upholstered sofas, to the side tables, the drapes, and the walls.
Next, I shoved aside a drinks cabinet containing bottles of spirits that smashed on the floor. As the flammable liquid spilled across the cell, the fire spread with flames as tall as five feet.
Cien’s screams turned to whimpers, indicating he was close to death. I glanced at the door, waiting for guards or a group of accomplices to rush in and help their comrade, but nobody came. He’d probably been working alone and turned off the alarms.
Once I was satisfied that Cien wouldn’t rise, I returned to the dagger, picked it up with my beak, and focused all my magic on finding Valentine.
My flames flickered, filling my vision with fire. When it cleared, I found myself in a concrete room with Caiman standing next to my body. Relief washed through my insides. When the assassin had mentioned Prince Draconius, I had feared he’d also tried to abduct me.
“Welcome back, My Lady.” The butler held up a robe.
After tossing the dagger to the side, I pulled back my flames, transformed into Valentine, and took the proffered garment.
“Did anyone attack you?” I asked, my voice urgent and deep.
Valentine stared up at me through wide, blue eyes. “Is everything alright?”
“There was a guard about my height.” I shook my head. “Your height. Ugh. He was little.”
Valentine nodded. “That leering letch.”
I nodded. “He was also an assassin.”
Valentine and Caiman exchanged shocked glances. Both their gazes swept down my form as though checking it for injuries. I squirmed under the scrutiny before reminding myself that this was Valentine’s body, not mine.
I shouldered on the silk robe and tied its sash around my waist. “Prince Draconius sent him with a solid flame dagger. He had one of those devices that make it impossible for anyone to move.”
Valentine’s face fell. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “I used my magic against him before the blade got close.”
“Did he say anything before trying to land the killing blow?”
“Just that he expected me to rise from the dead.”
“So he could slay me and become a hero,” Valentine snarled through clenched teeth. “Where’s this assassin now?”
“Dying in a burning room.” I raised a shoulder. “It’s going to be impossible for anyone to sort through his ashes, because everything was on fire when I left.”
Caiman sighed and handed Valentine a vial. “Your Majesty, may I suggest that you swap bodies and withdraw enough gold to tide you over before news of your apparent death reaches the bank?”
After downing its contents, Valentine strode over to me and placed a hand around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss. As soon as our lips touched, light flashed behind my eyelids, and I was suddenly back in my own body.
“You saved my life.” He pressed another kiss on my lips. “If you hadn’t been there, that assassin might have gotten the better of me.”
I shook my head and smiled into his violet eyes. “You would have thrown him across the room with your magic.”
Caiman cleared his throat. “The bank, Your Majesty.”
Valentine pulled off the gold chain from around his neck, took my hand, and slid the engagement ring on my finger. After pressing a kiss on my knuckles, he vanished.
I turned to Caiman. “What is this room?”
“One of many storage spaces beneath the palace, My Lady.” The butler offered me his arm. With his free hand, he floated the solid flame dagger off the floor. “When His Majesty informed me that you would be arriving as a phoenix, I thought it best to bring you here to avoid charring the antiques.”
As the dagger drifted toward us, I snatched it out of the air and slipped it into my pocket. I placed a hand on the crook of his elbow and walked through the empty space toward a metal door. “It certainly looks secure.”
“In the past, it has held feral shifters, demons, and a whole host of hostile beings.”
“One day, I’d like a full tour of this palace.”
“It would be my honor to show you around.”
We stepped out into a marble hallway that looked the same as any other within the building. Caiman directed me to one of the upstairs parlors, where a trident awaited on the table.
It was made of tarnished silver with an uneven surface that appeared to have been forged from primitive weapons. Sharp arrowheads protruded from the end of each of the weapon’s prongs, and the entire object hummed with magic.
“In our haste to rush Master Kain from the palace, I forgot to ask you what you wanted to do with this item,” Caiman said from my side.
“Do you think it’s authentic?” I tilted my head, wondering if Prince Draconius had been exaggerating about its origins. If it was one of the weapons used to defeat the Titans, it would definitely kill Kresnik.
“It’s certainly a magical item and an antique, but one would require an expert on antiquities to vouch for its authenticity.”
Reaching down, I brushed my fingers over its metallic surface, feeling a cool rippling magic that I might find on a water ma
ge. The trident didn’t feel good or bad, but beneath the undulating sensation of the ocean lay the same kind of angular power I had felt when touching Hades’ helm.
“Do you sense anything in particular, My Lady?” asked the butler.
“If it isn’t Poseidon’s trident, then it has to belong to another god associated with water.”
The phone in my pocket buzzed. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen to find a reminder for my appointment with Asena, the shifter Healer Hadriel had recommended I see about severing my bond with Kresnik.
“May I be of assistance, My Lady?” Caiman asked.
“I need to use the mirror for a trip to Lunaris.”
Unlike Natura, which consisted of high-rise buildings, Lunaris was mostly mismatched cottages dotted about a green landscape, with a castle at the top of a hill. That was because shifters tended to live in large family groupings, requiring fewer but larger homes.
Out of all the villages within Logris, Lunaris was the greenest—even more so than Striga. Witches and wizards valued the land because it provided food and herbs and fuel, but the shifters believed that they were at one with nature.
I strolled through a square of shops and cafes that reminded me a little of Dulwich Village in South London with its small stores presenting their wares both within window displays and outside beneath colorful awnings.
There was a specialty butcher that sold only offal, another that sold large cuts of meat, a fishmonger, a flower seller, and a magical outfitter who could create garments that didn’t tear during the shifting process. I made a mental note to visit her store at some point in the future to see if they could make me something that wouldn’t burn when I shifted into a phoenix.
Healer Asena’s clinic was on the corner of the village square, its exterior decorated with a collage of Noah’s arc. I guessed this was her way of saying she welcomed all kinds of animals. I stepped into a small reception area with a low table on its right, stacked with magazines and two chairs on its left side, both occupied by a large man with a walrus mustache.
The receptionist was a tall woman with black eyes and a twitchy nose that made me wonder if her alternative form was a rabbit.
“May I help you?” she said in a jittery whisper.
“I have an appointment to see the healer.”
“Which one?”
“Asena,” I said. “I got a referral from the Atlantis Hospital of Soul Healing.”
“Right.” She lowered her gaze to the counter and stilled.
“Excuse me?” I said.
The receptionist flinched. “Yes?”
“Can I see the healer now?”
“I don’t see why not.” She pressed a buzzer on her counter, and a door to the right of the low table clicked.
“Thanks.” I walked to the door and gave it a few sharp raps.
“Come in,” growled a deep voice.
My brows drew together. “Healer Asena?”
“Come in, I said!”
My belly made a nervous flutter, and images of a Nut-sized woman with sharp teeth flitted through my mind. Shoving those thoughts aside, I pushed open the door and stepped into a spearmint-scented room.
Apart from the diagrams of animal meridians and chakras all over the walls, it looked much like the healing rooms in Istabelle’s store. A king-size examination table took up most of the space, with a sink at the back on the far left, which also doubled as a desk.
I glanced from side to side, looking for signs of life. “Hello?”
“Hemera Griffin?” asked a snarling voice from behind the table.
“Mera.”
“Alright then, Mera.” The owner of the voice enunciated my name with three syllables. “Hop on the table, and let’s take a look at you.”
I perched on the high surface, letting my legs dangle off the edge, still waiting for the healer to emerge. Magic crackled, feeling more demonic than shifter, and a three-foot-tall woman stepped out from beneath the examination table, dragging a stepladder.
Of all the images that had flitted through my mind, none of them had been of a square-faced woman with huge brown eyes, high cheekbones, and a button nose framed by blonde wisps. Healer Asena looked more like a faerie than a shifter, with pointed ears and a mischievous grin.
“Healer Hadriel tells me you’re the phoenix shifter, and you’ve managed to acquire two mates,” she said in that gravelly voice.
“Not really.” I shifted on my seat.
“Polyandry is nothing to be ashamed of.” She closed her left eye in an exaggerated wink. “If both males are willing to share—”
“It’s Kresnik,” I blurted.
Healer Asena’s face fell, and the corners of her lips turned slack. She rifled through her papers, seeming to scan their contents for clues. “It says nothing here about you being his mate.” Her voice was sharp with accusation. “How on earth did you join souls with a man who was supposed to be long dead?”
“We did nothing of the sort,” I said, trying not to bristle. “He got one of his minions to stick a needle in my chest one time. Another time, he abducted me to the Realm of the Gods. Kresnik could have made the connection then.”
“Lie down and close your eyes, while I take a look.”
Swallowing back a sigh, I lowered myself onto the cushioned surface and let my eyes flutter shut. Healer Hadriel hadn’t seemed hopeful that her colleague could help me with my Kresnik problem, and I was only here out of desperation.
There was nothing Valentine or I could do against Kresnik until we worked out how to weaken the abomination of a bond the monster had made with my soul.
The healer’s magic swept over my body, a mix of static electricity and the kind of fluctuating power that reminded me of Macavity and also indicated that she was a shifter. What would she say when she saw the thick soul bond? That I was doomed?
I swallowed, blanking my mind of negative or hopeless thoughts. Even if this session didn’t result in severing the bond, I might learn something that could weaken it.
“Dear oh dear,” she growled.
My heart sank. If she told me my connection with Valentine had snapped, I wasn’t sure how I would cope.
“What do you see?” I rasped.
“This is one of the biggest violations of soul magic I’ve ever seen.”
I cracked open an eye. “You know how he did it?”
“Not exactly.” Healer Asena climbed down her stepladder and withdrew her magic. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you get to see a number of scams and tricks, but this is the shittiest of all.”
Every ounce of moisture in my throat evaporated, and I scrambled up to sitting. “What did he do?”
The healer dragged the stepladder to the wall, climbed atop it, and stood so we were more or less looking into each other’s eyes. “A little background on soul bonds first.”
“Okay,” I said, ignoring my insides, which writhed with impatience. It wasn’t like I knew anything but the basics about soulmates.
“You know that when fate chooses a mate for someone, they’re mostly compelled toward that person?”
I nodded.
“Every now and then, some idiot tries to fake the connection for some reason or another.” She waved her hand. “Power, financial gain, status, revenge, or lust.”
“But how do they do it?”
“Deals with devils, arrangements with angels, or the use of soul-weaving tools.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs. “What kind of tools?”
Healer Asena reached into the inside pocket of her white coat and extracted a metallic object the size of a knitting needle.
Cold shock slammed through my insides. With a hiss, I scrambled to the other side of the table and jumped on the floor.
“Interesting,” she drawled. “You’ve seen this before?”
Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my heart galloped across my chest, trying to lodge itself behind my spine. There I was, thinking that my sessions in the ho
spital had healed me from the trauma of Kresnik’s attack when it left me with a phobia of huge needles.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Something I use to suture broken bonds.”
“Do you think that’s what he used?” I placed a hand over my chest.
She shook her head and slipped the needle back into the confines of her coat. “The bond I saw was thicker than my forearm. It would have taken weeks to create with an instrument as delicate as the soul-weaver.”
“Then how—”
“Think larger.” She spread her arms wide.
“Like an arrow?” My face fell. “Cupid’s arrows?”
“According to what I read in the tabloids, Kresnik went to the Realm of the Gods. What if Cupid struck you in the heart chakra, and you formed a connection?”
I shook my head. “But I hate him.”
“Then maybe Kresnik did it to you himself.”
My shoulders sagged, and I held on to the side of the examination table, trying not to topple over. I’d seen Hades’ Helm, Poseidon’s trident or at least a close replica, and now there was talk of Cupid’s arrows. This was all becoming too much.
“But why?”
“Didn’t you see him on BBC Score the other day?” she asked.
“You mean when he made that woman transform into a demon before killing her?”
She shook her head. “He appeared in front of the humans as a phoenix. I dismissed it as a cheap light magic trick, but after seeing the connection he’s formed with you…”
“He’s siphoning my magic.”
“Looks like it.” She swept her gaze up and down my body. “Unless he wants you for your dowry.”
I was pretty sure my bank balance was overdrawn. “Is there something I can do to get rid of it?”
“Find a Greek god who knows how to counteract Cupid?” She raised her narrow shoulders. “Whoever you see, it has to be someone with as much power or access to power as Kresnik.”
“Right.”
She jumped down from her stepladder. “Good luck.”
“Wait.”
Her lips tightened. “Didn’t I just tell you to find someone more powerful?”
