by Bella Klaus
My throat dried. What the hell was he doing? People out there were on the brink of death—some of them had even died—and Valentine was chastising me for not following his commands? I raised my chin, forcing myself to meet his gaze, daring him to mesmerize me with those violet pupils.
“What are you doing to me?” I hissed.
“Do you want to end up like those people lying on the ground?”
I flinched away from his dark eyes. “What are you trying to say?”
Valentine bared his teeth and scowled. It was the kind of glower that told me to use my common sense.
“You knew this would happen?” I whispered.
“General Sargon,” a voice shouted.
He released my arm and stepped back, giving me a glare of warning before he turned away. I stared at Valentine’s broad back as he walked toward Healer Calla. The old woman stood beside Kresnik, her features ashen.
“Everybody clear out and form an orderly line outside,” she said in a monotone.
As the injured people piled out into the hallway, I backed toward Father Jude’s old door and wrapped my arms around my middle. This situation was becoming more and more curious with each passing revelation. Kresnik stealing people’s magic, sending them to their deaths, then allowing them to return so he could save the day by healing them?
My gaze dropped to the man whose pulse I hadn’t been able to feel. The center of his chest was all ash but the rest of his body appeared untouched. The blazing sword had now reduced to the size of a dagger.
I choked on thin air. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all.
Kresnik turned his head and met my gaze with irises that blazed paler than the hottest flame. Gone was the iridescent mother of pearl, replaced by an anger that threatened to burn me from the inside out. He stood with his legs far apart, his arms folded across a broad chest. His white shirt lay open, revealing bronzed skin that glowed with his inner light.
All the moisture left my throat. I didn’t need mind powers to know what he was thinking. His phoenix powers were too weak to burn a man’s body, when days ago, he had resurrected Brother David and numerous other dead warriors.
My throat dried. What if a phoenix had to rest between burnings to replenish its power? What if that kind of magic wasn’t supposed to be used to raise the dead or near dying? The answers were endless, but only one of those made any sense.
That sound healing session had weakened the connection between Kresnik and me. It was why I was able to produce sparks earlier today when I’d been annoyed by Hades. It was also why Hades had implored me not to speak about the return of my magic.
The accusation in Kresnik’s eyes made my stomach plummet, and I resisted the urge to run. It was safer here with Valentine, who at least wanted to keep me alive.
“Bring out General Sargon’s blood,” Kresnik said, his gaze burning the side of my face.
“What for?” Healer Calla’s voice echoed on the edge of my consciousness.
“Just do it,” he replied. “It’s time to start building our preternatural army.”
Cold shock filled my stomach and spread through my insides like a storm. Kresnik had sent all those magicless people out so he could blame the Supernatural Council for their injuries and play the hero by bringing them back with phoenix flames.
When that didn’t work, he would order Healer Calla to turn them into preternaturals.
He could scowl at me all he wanted. Now that my power was returning to me, I wouldn’t give it back.
Chapter Nine
I broke eye contact with Kresnik first. Mostly because the power radiating off the man felt like standing in front of a leaky microwave, and partially because this wasn’t a staring contest. At my current magical level, I was in no position to challenge anyone, let alone a Lord of Light.
The infirmary’s white walls closed in on us, reducing my surroundings to just Kresnik and me with a hint of Valentine’s magic in the background. Palpitations echoed across my ribcage, and my skin crawled with the residual disgust from his continual stare. This wasn’t the time to attract any more of his attention, and I didn’t want him to suspect that my power might be drifting back to me.
Inhaling a deep breath, I focussed on surviving the next few minutes. Right now, I needed to keep my head down, work from the shadows and identify a way to free Valentine from his influence.
Healer Calla rose to her feet and bustled around her counter, presumably to fetch the vampire blood. I glanced at Valentine, who stood between Kresnik and me, his features held in a neutral mask. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling.
When we stayed together in the penthouse, Valentine hadn’t felt the need to turn others into preternaturals. Then after I’d uncovered his stash of human males, he’d stopped drinking from the vein. Now they were turning people without his consent. If Valentine was in his right mind, he would be upset.
At the very end of the infirmary, Coral clutched at her belly, looking like she was going to hurl the contents of her stomach over the injured fire users.
A door opened with a hiss, and cold air swirled from across the counter, making my skin tighten. I couldn’t look down at the people Kresnik had sent out to Logris to get injured. They’d already been betrayed—three times. Once, when Kresnik had brought them into existence as vessels of magic. Again, when his people helped them harness those powers only for Kresnik to steal them away. The latest betrayal was the mission that nearly got them all killed.
And now their souls would be trapped in preternatural bodies?
My pulse fluttered in my throat like a pair of tiny fists hammering through my insides. Blood roared through my ears, screaming at me not to stand there like a coward while these people got violated for a fourth time.
Healer Calla emerged from behind the counter, holding a bottle of blood and a syringe. The old woman stuck the needle in the bottle’s metallic top and pulled out the plunger to fill the barrel with dark red liquid.
A scream caught in the back of my throat. The urge to scream at her to stop swelled through my insides and pushed against my lungs, my heart, my diaphragm. It closed down on my throat, choking me with guilt and cowardice and rage until the words tumbled out of my mouth.
“Just heal them!” I yelled.
Everybody in the room stiffened, including me.
Kresnik stepped closer, placing himself between Valentine and me, seeming to expand with each passing second. Light reflecting off his white shirt and pants shone bright enough to burn my retinas.
Anxiety rippled up and down my spine, settling in my fluttering heart. Even though Valentine hadn’t moved, his muscles tensed the way Macavity’s might when he was waiting for the right moment to strike. Smoky magic wrapped around my body like a cocoon. It was both protective and a warning that I should be careful of what I said next.
Kresnik steepled long fingers in front of his chest, their ends shining with hints of pale fire. Thick muscles bulged from his white shirt, making his physique appear inhumanly large.
Shallow breaths dried up the moisture from my throat, making me gulp. This power belonged to the twins, who could bend the light to make themselves and others appear invisible. Even though my brain knew the illusion was designed to intimidate, the incessant clatter of my heart against my ribs said it was working just fine.
“Did you say something, Hemera?” he asked in a voice like molten lava.
I stared ahead, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around my plummeting middle.
Valentine’s magic curled tighter around my body, warning me to stop this act of defiance… or else. It was too late to back down, especially when nobody else in the room would speak up for these dying innocents. Valentine wouldn’t because Kresnik had taken over the magic that coursed through his blood; Healer Calla was his daughter and clearly raised to obey his every command; and Coral was too much of a survivor to risk her life for something futile.
The twelve or so injured fire users were too sick to protest. I
was the only person who could help them.
I licked my lips, cleared my throat, tried to muster up a combination of words that might save these poor people while not getting me killed for my insolence.
“What did we do while Father Jude was in charge?” My voice trembled as the heat of his glower penetrated Valentine’s smoke. “I just meant to say Healer Calla might have some alternative methods for healing these people. I don’t understand why we can’t just use magical medicine.”
“You’re questioning me?” Kresnik drawled.
Valentine growled, making my insides clench.
“Just asking a question,” I squeaked.
“I see,” he said in a tone that implied that he’d already found me guilty of heresy and had sentenced me to death. My execution was only a matter of time.
Silence stretched out across the infirmary, punctuated by the boom and echo of my pulse. Everybody remained still with the only movement coming from a girl further down in the line of injured people who had started to convulse.
“They weren’t strong enough to protect the children I wished to save from the Council’s tyranny. Vampire blood will overcome their weaknesses to help them bring a new level of freedom to our family. Does that help you understand my methods, Hemera?”
Valentine’s magic tightened around my body, and his warning growl muffled the beat of my pulse. I worried at my bottom lip with my teeth. Everyone in the room knew these people were weak because Kresnik took their magic. Pointing that out now would likely accelerate my death.
“My Lord,” said Valentine. “Allow me to remove Mera from your presence.”
“No,” Kresnik replied through clenched teeth. “You have coddled Hemera for long enough. She will remain and make herself a useful member of my army.”
I reeled forward, struggling for breath. What part of being an unwilling blood cow, secured to a bed under the influence of thrall, constituted being coddled? Kresnik had already sentenced me to a slow death by ridding Valentine of the blood packs that might take the edge off his thirst. What did he want from me now, to lie on the ground and let Healer Calla inject me with vampire blood?
My lips pressed into a thin line. Nothing I could say would make Kresnik change his mind. The man had spent decades, if not longer, planning out his rise to power. Now that he might suspect I was the reason his phoenix magic was waning, I couldn’t afford to run my mouth.
“Hemera.” A jab of magic stabbed at my solar plexus, making me flinch.
“Yes?” I whispered.
“Prove your loyalty to our cause.” He swept his arm across the dead and dying warriors. “Bring forth our first preternatural lieutenant.”
My hand flew to my chest. “Me?”
Healer Calla emerged from behind the counter with a small bottle of blood. Steam curled from its glass base, indicating that it had been magically refrigerated. She bustled to my side, holding out a syringe.
“Here you are, dear,” she said, her tone warm and encouraging.
Palpitations squeezed my heart. How could I condemn someone to becoming a preternatural vampire, a creature that required the blood of at least one human a day to survive? I still had no idea what happened to their souls if their hearts were contained within a dead body that had to murder others to stay alive.
I shook my head and curled my hands into fists.
“My Lord,” Valentine said in a voice of steel. “Mera is my property—”
“Then perhaps you should have taught her better,” Kresnik hissed.
With a low growl, Valentine advanced on Kresnik, breathing hard even though he didn’t need oxygen. His eyes glowed like stoplights and he bared his teeth.
Kresnik’s lips curled into a smirk. Without looking at Valentine, he asked, “Are you questioning my authority, General Sargon?”
“Mera is mine,” Valentine snarled. “You gave her to me.”
Kresnik didn’t even bother to turn his body around to face Valentine, who shook with rage. He merely stared at the vampire out of the corner of his eyes as though he wasn’t a threat. Valentine might maintain an element of free will in his desire to protect me, but it looked like Kresnik’s magic stopped Valentine from attacking.
Valentine’s warning growl grew in volume until it resonated with my insides. My stubbornness would get us both maimed or killed or further enslaved. And these people would still end up as preternatural vampires.
My gaze darted to Kresnik, whose eyes were still fixed on mine. It was as though he was too powerful to acknowledge the vampire raging at his back. He might be low on phoenix fire, but he still had Jonathan’s black flames, Coral’s vast reserves of power, and everyone else’s magic. With one blast, Kresnik could destroy Valentine’s body in an instant.
Bile rose to the back of my throat as I mustered up the words, “Did you say I had to make one vampire, Father?”
He inclined his head and swept his gaze to the side.
Healer Calla offered me the syringe, and this time, I took it.
Valentine’s growl receded into the background. I wasn’t sure if that was because he’d toned down the volume or because the pounding of my heart had drowned it out. My gaze swept across the row of injured people and stopped at the woman who continued to convulse. Foam poured from the corners of her mouth, soaking into her hair.
I had no idea what was happening. Tearing my gaze away from her, I glanced at each of the faces, memorizing their last moments of humanity. When I settled on the man Kresnik had tried to heal, my chest tightened. The flaming sword in his chest had now extinguished, leaving his entire torso a hollow of ash.
He had to be dead. His soul must have left his body and fled the moment Kresnik’s phoenix sword had puttered out.
Still clutching the syringe between my numb fingers, I dropped down to my knees behind the man. Kresnik jerked forward but didn’t speak. Everything about him let me know that he suspected me of taking back my magic, but he remained silent. Speaking out would mean admitting to everyone in the room that he’d lost some of his power. I slid the needle into the man’s neck and pushed down the plunger, letting the blood in its barrel enter his veins.
The lining of my stomach trembled with trepidation. Vampire blood couldn’t work on someone who was already dead, could it? The last time I’d checked his heart, it hadn’t been beating, and he only had a trace of magic in his chakras. Kresnik had to have killed him fully by burning his insides, right?
As soon as the liquid left the syringe, I withdrew the needle from his neck and rose to my feet.
Kresnik stared at me with a frozen smile. I guess he had wanted me to inject someone who was still alive. If that was the case, he should have specified. Now, if he contradicted himself, he would look like a dick who couldn’t give clear orders.
Healer Calla took the syringe from my fingers with a pat on the back and a murmured congratulations. I wanted to hurl the contents of my stomach over Kresnik’s pristine white outfit. What would be the point when he’d bend the light to make himself look clean?
“Very well.” He turned to Valentine. “If you wish to continue with my daughter, you will need to keep her on a tighter leash.”
Valentine inclined his head. “Indeed, My Lord. I will deal out an appropriate chastisement and secure her—”
“I have a better idea.” Kresnik’s lips spread into the broadest, coldest grin that said he knew exactly how Valentine intended to punish me and would probably want to witness it for himself.
My mouth dropped open.
“My Lord?” Valentine asked.
“We should celebrate this first milestone.” Kresnik’s eyes sparkled with malice. “We will dine tonight at Gourmande. Be there at eight.”
Valentine stiffened. “I will take my leave.”
The tension in the air released, making my muscles relax a fraction. Valentine stalked around Kresnik, scooped me into his arms, and carried me through the row of injured people. My gaze caught Coral’s, who stared back at me with wide eye
s set within a face devoid of expression. Only the rapid rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was finding Kresnik unsettling.
My heart sank, both for the people I’d failed to help and whose souls would suffer the fate of being stuck in the body of a preternatural vampire, and for myself. The snarls reverberating across Valentine’s chest told me he was fuming—at me, most likely. Whatever Kresnik had planned for us tonight might mean my death at his hands.
Valentine hurried past the rest of the injured people standing outside the infirmary and through the hallways, turning them into a blur that made my head ache. I rested against his shoulder and sighed. If I survived tonight, I wouldn’t be too hesitant to form an alliance with Hades. The Demon King might have the information we needed to break free from Kresnik’s grasp.
Part of Valentine had defied Kresnik in an attempt to protect me. Somewhere beneath the magic control was the man I loved, trying to fight his way free. I clung to that hope as Valentine passed the wards of Kenwood House, sped through the blue-and-white hallway, and up the wrought iron staircase. There had to be something else I could do to bring forward the part of Valentine that was loyal to me.
When we entered the room, he deposited me on the bed and loomed over me, his red eyes flashing. “What was the meaning of that outburst?”
Pressing my palms on the soft mattress, I tried to push myself up to sit, but Valentine’s magic pinned me to the bed. His lips pulled back, revealing a mouthful of white teeth with the longest, sharpest incisors I’d seen on him in ages.
“I couldn’t stand by and say nothing while Kresnik turned them.”
The tendons around his neck corded as he snarled, “You could have gotten yourself killed by Our Lord.”
Flinching at the term of address, I tried pushing myself back off the mattress again, but his magic shoved me down. “You’re the King of the Vampires, a member of the Royal House of Sargon. You don’t have a master.”
“You are wrong.” His voice shook as though it took every ounce of his self-restraint not to burst into a flying rage. “Kresnik’s power is absolute.”
