by Bella Klaus
“What happened to your scythe?” I asked.
Lazarus bared his teeth and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his hard body. “I got injured, but one mouthful of you will heal my wounds.”
I pressed against his chest, trying to pry myself free, but he cupped the side of my face and turned my head to expose my neck.
Terror rippled down my spine. I tried channeling my power into my hands, to send a blast of fire into his chest, but my magic was depleted. He ran his tongue down my neck and hummed his approval. A sob caught in the back of my throat. As soon as he got one bite, he would never stop drinking.
A loud bang resounded through the vestibule. Lazarus twisted me around, protecting me from the explosion of stone raining down from the mausoleum. I guess he didn’t want all that precious blood spilling on the floor. Icy wind swirled around us, delving between our joined bodies, and wrenching me from his arms. I stumbled backward a few steps and floated through the air.
Valentine.
This had to be his doing, just as he had protected me earlier when the brothers had laid me on a stone plinth to plunder my body of its blood. My teeth chattered, partly from the cold and partly from the unnatural magic. I stared down at the rock-strewn vestibule, where Lazarus gaped up at me through wide eyes, and I landed gently with my back against the stained glass wall.
He took a step toward me. “What are you—”
A blur of movement came from the depths of the mausoleum, catching fire as it reached Lazarus. I clutched at my aching chest and moaned. It was Valentine, burned by the light streaming in through the stained glass window. He had braved the sun, just to save me.
I stayed up there for the next several minutes, hearing but not seeing the sounds of battle. Pushing my magic through my hands didn’t dislodge the magic securing me to the window, and slamming my elbow against the glass had no effect. How on earth was I going to get down?
Stones exploded, metal clinked against metal, and Valentine roared over the shouts of his brothers. From where I hovered close to the crimson stained-glass sun, it felt like an even fight. This probably explained why so many died when confronting Valentine’s father.
The magic holding me to the window eased a little, and I slid down its length until my feet reached the floor. Then the magic released, and I fell onto my hands and knees.
Sending Valentine a silent thanks and an apology for not being able to restore him, I darted out the stained glass door and into the clearing. The sun disappeared behind a cloud, casting the gardens in gloom. This time, I ran in a different direction, through lavender and lilac and long stalks of mint, and anything that might disguise my scent. After being caught once, I knew which mistakes to avoid. As I crawled beneath through a row of dead trees covered in curtains of hanging lichen, I caught a glimpse of the end of the palace grounds and its tall fences.
Sunlight streamed through the bare branches overhead, illuminating the mossy tendrils brushing against my skin like spider webs. The gaps between the fence posts in the corner were widest in the corner. Ignoring my creepy surroundings, I changed direction and picked up speed.
A low howl sounded in the distance, making my steps falter and my hackles rise. Valentine’s brothers were too busy fighting to send out hunting dogs, weren’t they? It had to be a shifter experiencing his or her first change. I continued toward the fence, my lungs bursting as I placed my hands on its cool iron posts.
The gap was smaller than it had looked from a distance, and I eased one shoulder through, then my head, then clenched my teeth as my chest squeezed through iron railings only for my hips to get stuck.
I stared out into the track that ran along the perimeter of the palace. It stretched twenty feet and beyond that lay the fields of six-foot-tall poppies that bordered my village of Striga. If that howl had come from hunting dogs, I was a standing target.
A vehicle rumbled toward me. I gripped the iron railings and tried to shove myself back into the palace grounds before the driver spotted me and called the Supernatural Council. My hips were stuck, no matter how hard I struggled, and I prayed to anyone listening that the driver wasn’t a vampire.
The barking became louder, and my imagination conjured up the sound of panting breaths and claws scrambling over twigs. I stared out at the approaching car, pushing and shoving and clenching my teeth, but I still remained stuck.
Seconds later, the car stopped, and tendrils of smoky power curled around my senses. The driver was a vampire. A vampire who would probably find my blood irresistible and drain me where I stood.
“Mera Griffin,” a deep voice snarled.
I met the driver’s hate-filled eyes before I recognized the features twisting with malice.
It was Kain, the purebred vampire destined to one day become the king.
Chapter Two
I struggled within the confines of the fence, building up a sweat that broke out against my brow, my underarms, and my palms. No matter if I pulled or pushed, the iron bars wouldn’t release my hips. I stared into Kain’s hateful eyes, watching the young vampire’s features twist from fury to confusion.
With the setting sun against his back, his ends of blond hair shone like candle flames, matching the blue fury burning in his eyes. I gulped several times in quick succession. It was only a matter of time before my scent reached his nostrils and he attacked.
“What are you doing?” His voice was as cold as the oncoming winter.
“I’m stuck. Can you give me a push?”
His lip curled, and he bared blunt teeth. “You killed the only person who ever gave a shit about me.”
Another howl pierced the air. Kain glanced over my shoulder and frowned. I longed to ask him what he could pick up with his vampire senses but didn’t dare when one of the vampire princes might burst out of the woods and claim me as his cow.
“Valentine isn’t dead.” The words blurted out from my lips.
Kain stepped back, his hands curling into fists. “Don’t lie to me. I was at his funeral and saw what they did to his body—”
“He just rose a few minutes ago, and his brothers are trying to get him to stay dead.”
His face dropped, and his lips parted to let out a breath. “You’re joking.”
“Can’t you hear the sounds of their fight?” I asked.
Kain paused for a moment and squinted, then his eyes widened. “I’ve got to help him.”
“No.” I reached out and grabbed the corner of his leather jacket. “When I left the mausoleum, Valentine was winning. There’s only one thing you can do for him.”
Curiosity stirred in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Help me,” I said, trying to stave off my panic. “I have the power to bring him back to life.”
I tried glancing over my shoulder for signs of approaching dogs, but at my bent angle, it was difficult to see the other side of the fence. “Can you pull me out and I’ll explain later? Every mature vampire out there wants to drink my blood.”
Kain folded his arms across his chest and scoffed. “As if.”
At least he believed me when I said I could help Valentine, but it stung that he didn’t believe me about my irresistible blood. Clenching my teeth, I held back from retorting that his fangs hadn’t yet descended. It was the only reason why Kain was immune to my cursed blood and hadn’t set upon me like the four vampire princes.
Of course, I couldn’t say that. When I was at the academy, it was a common insult vampire boys used to throw at each other. Pointing out that Kain was only a baby vampire might result in him leaving me here at the mercy of the vampires who actually wanted to drain me dry.
“Were you at my first trial?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“When Valentine and I were in London, I got cursed—”
“By who?”
“I don’t know.” My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. “But they made it so that my blood became irresistible to vampires, then they trapped us in the vi
lla. Valentine kept coming after me and stopping himself but the curse grew stronger and stronger until…”
Kane stepped forward, his eyes wide. “Go on.”
“Look at my leg.”
He dropped his gaze to the dark swirl that wrapped around my ankle and disappeared up the burned-off legs of my prison jumpsuit. “Is that it?”
I nodded. “There’s a way to save him, but I can’t do that if I’m stuck here and at the mercy of any passing vampire.” My voice broke. “Please, Kain. Let me help Valentine. Right now, he’s an undead creature, fighting his brothers because they want to cremate him. I can heal him with my fire magic, but you’ve got to help me hide.”
Loud barking filled the air, and my panic rose several notches. Every ounce of moisture in my mouth dried, and the pulse fluttering in my throat thrashed as though trying to break free.
Kain glanced over my shoulder. This time, his eyes widened and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Without a word, he grabbed my arms and hauled me through the bars, just as something scratched my calf.
I fell into his arms and turned around to find a pack of dogs, each the size of a bear.
They weren’t bloody dogs, they were Inferno hounds.
Inferno hounds were a hybrid of a Doberman mastiff and a hellhound, so they had the size and bulk and aggressiveness but without the fire of their demonic sires. While demons used hellhounds to track down souls that had escaped their realm, supernaturals used Inferno hounds as guard dogs. The only good thing about them was that they never knowingly hurt a sentient being unless specifically ordered to attack.
The Inferno hounds stuck their muzzles through the bars, baring oversized white teeth. As they snarled, thick ropes of saliva hung from their massive jaws, making my heart jump into the back of my throat.
One of them raised its head, seeming to want to gauge the height of the fence, and it backed up a few paces.
I squeezed Kain’s arm. “It’s about to jump.”
“How can you—”
“Run.” I turned on my heel, bolted toward his car, and flung open the door. Kain was already inside before I sat in the passenger seat.
Up ahead, one of the hounds had already scaled the fence and jumped down into a crouch. I slammed the car door, and twisted around in my seat. “Go.”
Kain started the engine. “Where to?”
“We’ve got to outrun these dogs first.”
He slammed the car into reverse, twisted around in his seat, and sped down the track that wound around Valentine’s castle.
The Inferno hound trotted after us, keeping a steady pace. Two more joined it, and the trio broke into a run. Kain rounded the corner and continued down a fork in the road.
I grabbed his arm. “They won’t follow us into Striga.”
“How do you know?” he asked.
“Supernaturals can cross into the villages of other races and they can even live there with the permission of the monarch, but they can’t bring their animals. Striga is the Witch Queen’s territory. Valentine wouldn’t let his hounds cross over and create an incident.” My heart sank as I said those words. It wasn’t as though Valentine was in the position to stop his dogs, but he had trained them to obey his commands, and in the three years we’d been together, he’d never mentioned having a problem with the Inferno hounds.
After passing the turn-off, Kain moved the car back into gear, drove forward and sped down Regal Street, which marked the boundary between Striga and Lamia, the territory of the vampires. I turned around, watching the trio of hounds slow to a trot and then stop abruptly at the invisible border.
“They’re not following,” Kain said.
“Told you.” It was too early to feel relief. At any time, someone passing us might recognize me or catch a glimpse of me through the window and call the enforcers. I twisted around in the seat, placing a hand on both headrests, and climbed into the back.
Kain spluttered. “What are you doing now?”
“Going into hiding.” I settled in the gap between the front and back seat, and ducked out of sight.
“How do you intend to help Valentine if you’re escaping the palace?” he said, his voice dry.
“I have a plan.” Actually, I only had Aunt Arianna’s plan, which still didn’t make any sense.
Kain slowed the car. “You’re going to tell me or I’ll drive you straight to the Supernatural Council.”
“Phoenix flames,” I blurted.
“What?”
I swallowed hard. Even though Kain was a one-in-a-thousand-generations pureblood vampire, he had grown up in the human world and was still learning about how things worked here in Logris. I wasn’t sure if phoenixes featured in human mythology, so I settled for a simple answer.
“It’s a bird made of pure flame that can heal with its fire.”
“Right,” he said, the impatience in his voice indicating that humans knew about phoenixes.
“Valentine set up the safe house so I could come into my power without getting arrested.”
“But that failed when you killed him.”
The words hit like a slap, and I clenched my teeth. “Valentine sacrificed himself to save me. When he realized the curse would force him to continue drinking my blood until I died, he grabbed a dagger of solid flame and poisoned himself.”
“But they’re saying you killed him in self-defense,” he said.
My stomach roiled, and every ounce of frustration that I’d held down in order to get through one ordeal after another now rose to the surface. I’d been cursed, attacked, arrested, sentenced, and attacked all over again. The last thing I needed were Kain’s accusations. He was hurting, but so was I, and I didn’t like the implication that the life of a Neutral was worth less than that of a vampire.
“Are you saying Valentine should have killed me?” I snapped.
Silence stretched out for several heartbeats, only broken by the thrum of the car’s engine. Eventually, Kain spoke. “No.”
“Then could you please stop making barbed comments?” I asked in a much softer voice. “I miss Valentine as much as you, but we have to work together if we’re ever going to cure him of being undead.”
“Right.” Kain exhaled a loud breath. “Sorry, it’s just…” He shook his head.
“What is it?”
“When my mum died and my dad left, Valentine stepped in and took care of everything. He paid all the bills, the funeral, and moved me out of that shithole and into a palace. I owe him everything.”
A lump formed in my throat, and the backs of my eyes stung with the onset of tears. My life before Valentine might not have been as bleak as Kain’s—I had Aunt Arianna, and the rest of the clan weren’t cruel. But meeting Valentine had been like seeing color for the first time.
For my entire life, the only people who didn’t dismiss me as a worthless Neutral were my closest blood relatives. Without magic, I couldn’t participate in most social events in the Witches’ Calendar, and struggled to make friends because there were so few Neutrals.
When I met Valentine, he opened up an entire world of art, culinary delights, and literature, which were all things I could enjoy without the gift of magic.
I raised my head and peered through the gap between the driver’s and front passenger seat. “Valentine did a lot for me, too. It’s why I have to develop my power. If I can burn his corpse with phoenix flames, he’ll rise from the ashes a brand new Valentine.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Kain rasped.
My gaze dropped to the rubber mats on the car floor. “Then I will have saved his soul from being trapped in that abomination of a body and released it into the afterlife.”
After that, Kain increased his speed and continued into the winding streets of Striga. Most of the roads consisted of a single lane, lined with a continuous terrace of small stone-brick cottages that curved down their entire lengths. Each home had a foot of external space which they used to grow plants or herbs or cultivate charms of protection.
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br /> The setting sun reflected off their slate roofs, highlighting their rough, uneven surfaces. Nostalgia filled my chest, and I exhaled a long sigh. Even in the human world, most of the settlements varied from home to home. Here in Striga, the houses weren’t numbered. You could only tell a person’s house by what they grew on the outside and what they displayed on their windows.
Striga was unique even within Logris. Unlike the vampire territory, which consisted of high-rise buildings separated into fancy apartments, the witch community of Striga preferred small cottages that appeared no larger than twelve feet wide on the outside.
Depending on how much power the witch possessed or could purchase, they would expand the interior of their homes into any size or configuration. Space was limited, and in the poorer districts of Striga, cottages lay stacked one on top of the other like shish kebabs.
I gave Kain the directions to the Griffin coven’s stack of cottages. Ours was one rung above the bottom, which we inherited when Granddad died. It was originally the home where he and Grandma brought up Mom and Aunt Arianna. Kain parked beside the public gardens a few streets behind where I lived.
He turned off the engine, took off his leather jacket and draped it over my back. “Hide here,” he said. “Nobody should bother a car that belongs to Valentine’s fleet.”
After I gave him a description of my cottage and told him to be careful of enforcers, he opened the door and left. I blew out a long breath, hoping he would return with Aunt Arianna or someone who knew how to remove the firestone from my blood. No matter what people told me about firestone being able to hold large amounts of destructive fire, it had only worked to a small extent to contain my magic. It either meant that I was super powerful, or that the stone didn’t work as effectively to hold back phoenix flames.
A quartet of wizards walked past, holding bundles of bamboo stalks over their shoulders. I held my breath, hoping they wouldn't think to look through the window, but they seemed more interested in their harvest than in the vehicle parked outside their gardens.
