Thrall of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 4)

by Bella Klaus

  The warm spray massaged my skin, washing away the scent of smoke and brimstone that clung to my body. I picked up a bottle of strawberry-scented shampoo and tried not to think of the most powerful demon in existence lurking behind the sheet.

  As I massaged the silky liquid into my hair, Hades launched into a monologue. “At certain points of history, the world nearly ended because the barriers between realms thinned to the point of breaking.” He reminded me of my history teacher, a demon hybrid with a sharp tongue. “The worst of these occurrences happened during the 1300s when the bubonic plague swept through England.”

  “I wrote an essay on John Dastin,” I said over the sound of water. “He tried to reach Heaven with a sword he’d transmuted into gold and opened a portal to Hell.”

  “Deaths had reached an all-time high, and reapers became overwhelmed with the numbers of disembodied souls clinging to the realm of the living. The spiritual pressure wore through the barriers between the realms, allowing the unscrupulous to harness the power of Heaven and Hell for personal gain.”

  I rolled my eyes and dipped my head beneath the spray. “Yes, and one of those people was John Dastin.”

  “Then you understand the extent of the danger Kresnik poses to the world?” he asked.

  “Since stopping him from unleashing an army of preternaturals is so important, you’ll agree to my demands.”

  Hades didn’t reply immediately. After rinsing the shampoo, I poured a generous amount of coconut conditioner into the palm of my hands and worked it into the ends of my hair. I wanted to help him stop Kresnik, and not just because I was desperate to save Valentine. But he had to understand that he needed my help more than I needed his.

  “State your terms,” he said.

  “One. You will show me the location of Valentine’s heart.”

  “Agreed, but on the condition that I accompany you in my physical body to fetch the item in question.”

  “Why?”

  “Its location is too perilous for a mortal and requires the use of wings. Besides, I wish to guarantee that you fulfill your end of the bargain.”

  I bit down on my lip. It wasn’t like I could fly, and I hadn’t gotten the chance to test my ability to speak as a phoenix.

  “What say you, Miss Griffin?” he asked.

  I piled up my hair atop my head. “Agreed, subject to my other demands.”

  “Which are?” he drawled.

  “You will not reap or allow the reaping of any fire user’s soul unless they’re actually dead.” I licked my lips, trying to work out loopholes that would allow him to take advantage. “When a fire user dies, they will be judged like every other non-demon supernatural on their life’s deeds and not automatically shunted into Hell.”

  “Unacceptable,” he hissed.

  “Why?” I grabbed a pumice stone and ran my fingers over its rough surface.

  “I’m the only higher being capable of securing these souls—”

  “But you let Kresnik escape from Hell, and he and the hosts of his soul are running around the world fathering babies to become vessels of fire magic.”

  I pressed a palm against the tiled wall for balance and stood on one foot while I rubbed off dead skin from my sole. Hades’ magic raged but the water, the silk sheet, and the glass shower curtain cushioned its impact.

  The Demon King had to be livid that Kresnik had been plotting his prison break for decades within his secure cell in Hell. I shook my head, rubbing the pumice stone around the dry skin on my heels. Perhaps if Hades focussed more on guarding Kresnik, he might never have lost his body.

  “Your focus should be on Kresnik, not harmless people who just want to get through life,” I said.

  “There are forces at play you couldn’t comprehend,” he snarled.

  “Like?” I lowered my foot, rinsed the pumice stone, and raised my other foot.

  “Kresnik is no ordinary fire mage,” Hades growled.

  “I know.” My brow furrowed. Since when did the skin on the ball of my right foot get so hard? Maybe it was all those boots I’d been wearing since my arrest. I scrubbed harder, trying to restore the sole to its usual smoothness.

  “Really?” he asked, his voice dry. “Tell me something, Miss Griffin, did you know Kresnik was also a god?”

  The pumice stone slipped from my hands. “What?”

  “He was originally Prometheus.”

  “But he’s—”

  “A titan? A fire god? The bastard who plucked the phoenixes bald and handed their flames to humans?”

  “Wait. What?” I shook my head. Fire didn’t come from phoenixes… did it? They didn’t teach us much Greek mythology at the academy, but I’d read enough about it on Wikipedia to know the basics.

  “Are you saying that fire came from the phoenix?” I asked.

  “Among other fire-based beings,” Hades replied. “Prometheus found a way to not only hand it to the humans, but he harnessed the immortality of the bird to elevate his followers into supernaturals.”

  “Are you talking about fire users?”

  “Vampires, shifters, mages, witches… You’re all abominations created by Prometheus.”

  My throat dried. “Does that mean all the Greek gods are real? Are you Hades, god of the Underworld?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “And I was.”

  A piece of conditioner-laden hair flopped onto my face, filling my nostrils with the scent of coconut. I stepped beneath one of the sunflower-shaped shower heads and rinsed off. Blood roared between my ears, and my heart pounded with excitement. I had met a Greek god—two, if I counted Kresnik.

  “How did Prometheus become Kresnik, then?” I asked.

  “After giving fire to the humans and creating a race of lesser supernaturals, Zeus stripped him of his divinity and tied him on a rock and punished him to have his liver devoured each night by the eagle,” Hades replied, sounding bitter. “Someone eventually slaughtered the bird and released him.”

  “Divinity?” I asked.

  “It’s what differentiates gods from angels and demons, but that’s not the point. We never saw Prometheus again until centuries ago when he tried to take over Europe with his followers under the name of Kresnik.”

  “What does he want?” I asked.

  “Adulation, world domination, a way to break through to the realm of the gods and exact his revenge. Take your pick.”

  After turning off the water, I walked to the other end of the shower and reached for a toweling robe.

  “Your worry for these people’s souls is admirable but misguided,” Hades said from behind the screen. “If you don’t help me to stop Kresnik, everybody living in this underground hideout will eventually be drained dry of their magic and transformed into a preternatural vampire.”

  I stared down at my feet, reeling from the revelation. Everything Hades said made a sick sort of sense, but he was also known as the King of Lies. I’d worked with people I mistrusted before, thinking I could find a way around their inevitable double-crossing, only to end up powerless and with my fiancé under the control of a maniac.

  “Bloody hell,” I muttered under my breath. This was almost certainly going to backfire. The only thing I couldn’t predict was how.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When I stepped out of the shower cubicle, Hades wasn’t in the bathroom. I certainly hadn’t conjured him up under the influence of last night’s thrall—my imagination didn’t stretch as far as Greek mythology, nor could I create a being so aggravating. I pulled the edges of my robe together in case there was a pile of ashes somewhere, waiting for me to drop my guard.

  Didn’t he want to hear the rest of my terms?

  After wrapping my wet hair with a towel, I slipped on a pair of toweling slippers I’d found beneath the marble sink and padded out of the bathroom. Sunshine streamed in through the half-mast windows, casting squares of light across the wood floor.

  Kenwood House would have been a really nice place to spend a romantic break in the human world
if it wasn’t for the ever-present threat of a tyrant who I had now discovered was a god. A god without his divinity.

  I bit down on my lip and headed toward the walk-in closet. Had Kresnik sent Aurora to the realm of the gods in search of his missing divinity? It would explain why he’d brutally punished the woman for failing to achieve the impossible.

  Someone cleared their throat. I turned in the direction of the door to find a red-haired woman holding a tray of food. Her hair covered her features, but from her slender frame, I guessed it was probably Martika, the girl from Gourmande.

  At least that answered my question about Hades. He’d probably heard her coming and decided to make himself scarce. “Hello?”

  Martika raised her head, revealing red-rimmed eyes. I hadn’t seen her since Kresnik had tested us for remnants of magic.

  “Breakfast,” she said in a voice that sounded hoarse from screaming.

  “Thanks…” I walked to the door. “Why am I getting meals sent up now?”

  “General Sargon wishes for you to be comfortable during your confinement.” She lowered her eyes to the food and swallowed. “Our Lord ordered me to fetch items for you while you’re not serving the general, but I can’t come in because of the wards.”

  “Thanks for bringing it up.” I hurried to the door, took the tray, and placed it on a side table.

  The scent of chocolate wafted up from the metal dome, and I lifted it up to reveal four slices of chocolate banana bread, laden with rich chunks of chocolate and drizzled with a sauce that might have been a melted-down bar of Green and Black’s. A fruit salad of sliced bananas, strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries took up the middle of the plate, making my mouth water.

  I picked up the second dome, underneath which a portion of smoked salmon eggs Benedict sat alone on a side plate. I turned to the door to find Martika still stood in the doorway, wringing her hands and staring at me as though I was the answer to an existential crisis.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  Her bottom lip trembled. “How do you do it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You were the first of the acolytes who donated their magic to Our Lord.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip, and rolled the word around in my head. The word acolyte suggested that they were followers, which would make sense if Kresnik still considered himself a god. “Are you asking how I’m coping without my power?”

  She nodded.

  “It was never really mine to begin with,” I murmured. At her frown, I added, “My entire life, I thought I was a Neutral who never had magic. Then it sparked a few weeks ago and nearly got me executed. Now that I’m free of that magic, it’s a bit of a relief.”

  Her gray eyes roved over my face, perhaps seeking out signs of deception. I met her gaze, believing the truth in my words. The power in my soul might have attracted Valentine’s attention, but it had also caused us both misery. The only thing I missed about having fire magic was the chance to resurrect Valentine.

  That didn’t mean I wouldn’t get it back. Kresnik didn’t deserve the power of a phoenix. Right now, I couldn’t tell if Kresnik had sent Martika to check me for signs of magic, or if she needed my help.

  I tilted my head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Our Lord took the elite team to a ritual room and extracted our power.”

  “You can’t shift?” I asked.

  “Don’t get me wrong.” She raised her palms. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful. Our Lord is merciful and kind. He spared me from the injection—”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She shook her head and bolted down the hallway. “I have duties.”

  My stomach tightened, squeezing out a roiling nausea that spread up the back of my throat. Reading between the lines, it looked like Kresnik had turned everyone in that elite team into preternatural vampires. Except Martika, who had lavished him with a blowjob that had made him howl like a beast.

  Kresnik probably wanted more and didn’t want to risk sticking his erection in a mouthful of fangs.

  Martika disappeared around the corner, and her footsteps echoed down the staircase. I scratched at my temple and hurried back toward the walk-in closet. Too much was happening too quickly, and I wasn’t about to miss another morning meeting because Valentine wanted me to stay in my room.

  As I stepped inside, my legs buckled, and I landed on my hands and knees, gasping for air.

  Roman had tested positive for magic and become one of the elites. Shallow breaths whistled in and out of my throat. Had Kresnik turned him, too?

  After slipping on a pair of knickers, a bra, and a denim pinafore dress, I placed my cloak over my shoulders and hurried out of the closet. As I was about to head for the hallway, a cloud of smoke slid out from beneath the bed.

  “That girl just confirmed that Kresnik is already turning her comrades into preternatural vampires to fight his war. Do you believe me now?” he asked.

  “How do you know about the vampires?” I asked.

  “It’s how Kresnik turned so many the last time.” Hades pooled out from under the bed, forming into a tall pillar. “After creating the master vampire, he injected his followers with hollow bird bones attached to animal bladders. It was a fucking mess until the Royal House of Sargon killed the problem at the root.”

  I bowed my head. “You’re talking about Valentine’s father.”

  “Destroy the master vampire, and you also destroy every preternatural spawned by his blood.” He drifted closer. “Will you reunite my ashes so I may clean up this mess?”

  “I need some guarantees.”

  “What?” he hissed.

  “Devil’s bargains are always in blood.” I folded my arms across my chest and glowered up into the smoke. “Of which you have none. I’m also talking to one-seventh of the Demon King. How do I know the other six parts won’t decide to keep me as a pet?”

  Power crackled like an electric storm, and it took every ounce of willpower not to flinch. I was all for saving the world, but as soon as I gathered that first jar, the balance of power would shift from me to Hades. The moment I gave him what he wanted, he could renege on our deal and save the world from preternaturals by destroying Valentine with hellfire.

  He uttered a string of words in a language I didn’t understand. He was probably cursing me to hell, but since he didn’t say them in English, I decided not to take offense.

  “You drive a hard bargain,” he snarled. “Is that how you drive cocks?”

  “How mature,” I muttered. “Do you have a guarantee for me or will you let Kresnik gather enough power to restore himself into Prometheus?”

  Hades snarled. “King Valentine was far too lenient with you last night. I would also have taken you from behind, but kept you screaming my name until you begged for release.”

  “It’s a good thing that Valentine’s my fiancé then,” I snapped. “Sex with you must be so frustrating.”

  Hades spluttered. “I’ve never left a woman unsatisfied.”

  “I’m not entirely satisfied with the way this conversation is going,” I muttered.

  “Fine,” he snarled. “My Hell ring is on the grounds, hidden beneath a pile of leaves. I threw it from my finger before my body burned.”

  “So?”

  “Its bearer rules the Fifth Faction of Hell.”

  “But I thought you were the king of it all.” I slipped my hood over my head, preparing myself for a trip out of the house.

  “Does Logris have a single monarch?” he asked with a sneer. “What about the human world? Over a hundred billion people have lived and died compared to the nearly eight billion that are alive today. Why would you think that a single being could rule them all?”

  I headed for the door, bristling at his words. Now that he explained the numbers, it did seem naive to think Hades ruled an entire realm. That didn’t mean he had to be such a dick. If I had to guess, Hades had also lost his divinity and c
ouldn’t return to frolic among the other Greek gods.

  “Not everyone goes to Hell.” I pulled on the door handle.

  “You’d be surprised how many we’re forced to admit,” he drawled.

  “Do you rule Europe Hell, then?”

  “My domain is worldwide,” he said, sounding like he was directly between my eardrums. “I rule over the Hell for supernaturals.”

  A shudder ran down my back. He made it sound like the world was full of souls bound for eternal damnation. As soon as I stepped out into the hallway, Hades fell silent. I glanced over my shoulder, but the space between the door and the four-poster bed was empty. Either he’d buggered off or he’d turned himself invisible.

  I continued down the hallway, casting a glance over the portraits of the bronze-skinned man with the sun shining through his hair. No wonder Kresnik had depicted himself as a god.

  Hades didn’t make a sound as I continued down the marble-and-iron staircase, and my insides fluttered with the onset of nerves. He still needed to show me the location of his ring, so I could hold it as a guarantee that he would fulfill his end of our bargain.

  With a few whispered instructions, Hades led me along the turquoise hallway and into an entrance hall of gray-and-black marble tiles arranged in concentric patterns around a circular table. A brass candelabra stood atop its surface with flames that flared to life upon my approach.

  I staggered back, placing a hand on my chest. Was that thing watching me?

  “Some places have ward stones that govern their security,” he whispered into my ear. “The Flame has fire. Extinguish those candles, and the wards will fall.”

  Wax drizzled from its candles onto a large round coaster etched with ancient symbols. They were probably part of the ward system, too. I gulped, wondering if I should blow them out now or later.

  “We’re not touching those flames until I get my body,” he snarled. “Is that understood?”

  I nodded, silently adding that I also wanted Valentine restored before the Supernatural Council descended on Kenwood House. The last thing we needed was for someone to think he was an enemy and destroy his body.