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

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Thrall of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 4) Page 21

by Bella Klaus


  “Are these new recruits, Father?” I asked.

  Kresnik chuckled. “All will be revealed in today’s briefing.”

  I continued alongside Valentine for the journey, straining my ears to listen in on their conversation. They spoke in voices too low for regular ears, and I guessed that Kresnik had enhanced his hearing with one of the shifter powers he’d stolen.

  The sensation of smog behind me wrapped around my neck like a noose, even with the reaper cloak pulled up to the hood. I tried not to shudder at the oppressive power, but a tremor of dread seized my skeleton, penetrating my bones to the marrow.

  Part of me already knew the identity of these people, but I wasn’t ready to acknowledge anything until I’d seen them without their hoods.

  “The blood oath is much like marriage,” Kresnik said out loud for my benefit. “I’m delighted that my beautiful daughter has given herself fully to you.”

  “Thank you, My Lord,” Valentine replied.

  “But a man of your tastes cannot be satisfied with one girl. My Martika pleases me immensely, and I think she may be more to your liking. Try her out and expand your horizons.”

  My stomach dropped, and panic spiked through my chest, flooding my system with adrenaline. What the hell was Kresnik planning now?

  Valentine stroked his hands up and down my waist. “I am touched by your generosity.”

  I glanced up into Valentine’s unmoving features. Were his words a polite refusal or an eager acceptance? It was hard to tell when he was being so formal. My breath shallowed, and I wrapped an arm around Valentine’s back for support.

  There was only one reason Kresnik was going to foist Martika on Valentine and that was because he was trying to prepare Valentine for my disappearance. Kresnik probably wanted me to take the oath to make me more likely to admit that I still wielded the power of the phoenix, so he could crack me open and extract my magic. Not that it would work because Valentine didn’t make me use his title, and I pledged my ultimate allegiance to his soul, as it was the higher authority who overrode any of his body’s orders.

  I stared straight ahead, trying to calm my thoughts, wondering what Hades was thinking, and trying to plan a way to get out of earshot, so I could ask him about vows.

  It wasn’t like I knew for sure that I had the magic of a phoenix because I hadn’t transformed since that last time. Even under a truth enchantment, I wouldn’t admit to having taken back the power… as long as they didn’t ask me if I could produce sparks.

  A pair of men stood straight ahead and opened the doors to the refectory with a deep bow.

  Everyone rose off their seats, welcoming Kresnik into the dining hall. He stood in the doorway for a moment as a pair of men unrolled a red carpet that stretched from the entrance to the dais.

  My lips pressed into a thin line, but I pushed aside all griping thoughts and focussed on the impending threat.

  Kresnik stepped onto the carpet, and Valentine walked across the regular floor beside him, his large arm across my back sweeping me along for the promenade.

  The people behind us followed in eerie silence, not even their footsteps making a sound. I glanced over my shoulder. Kresnik and I cast shadows across the white floor. Valentine didn’t and neither did the people in black.

  As we approached the head table, my gaze caught Racon’s on the far right of the room. Coral sat beside him with her lips pressed into a thin line.

  “May I sit with my brothers and sisters, Master?” I asked, trying not to cringe.

  Kresnik chuckled. “Well done, my friend. You have tamed my wild daughter, and now it’s time for a new challenge. Break in another girl.”

  I clenched my teeth. He certainly didn’t care about making his desire to take me from Valentine obvious.

  Valentine inclined his head. “I would like to finish my current cow before starting another. This one is particularly nourishing.”

  Memories of that humiliating night on the palace steps pushed themselves to the front of my mind, making me reel back with a start. Valentine’s fingers closed around my waist, keeping me steady as I gulped mouthfuls of air.

  This wasn’t real. I told myself this over and over until the sentence became a blur of words. Valentine was just trying to protect me. Everything he had done so far had been an attempt to keep me safe. I had to believe that he still wanted to keep me at his side, even when the magic flowing through his veins now belonged to Kresnik.

  The former god mounted the dais, making a displeased noise in the back of his throat.

  Valentine released my waist and ushered me to the other side of the room, where Coral and the others sat. Relief loosened my muscles, although I couldn’t bask in the sensation because Kresnik would continue trying to convince Valentine to cast me aside until he got tired of waiting and tore out my magic with his claws.

  “Welcome to a new day, my glorious children of the Flame.” Kresnik spread his arms wide.

  Applause broke out across the refectory. I scurried through the maze of tables and slid into the seat next to Leman and Clarence. Gail and Coral turned their heads away from the head table and stared at me with wide eyes. Perhaps they were surprised to see me at my first briefing.

  “I bring you wonderful news this morning.” Kresnik’s voice rang out across the vast space. “Our new elites who accepted the gift of eternal life have now risen and completed their training. Give them a round of applause.”

  As everybody clapped, a line of about forty-eight people in black robes stepped forward and bowed. I rubbed my dry throat, wondering if Valentine had trained them or if their obedience was the work of Kresnik.

  Coral leaned across the table. “Are you alright?”

  “Fine,” I replied. “You?”

  “Still powerless,” she said.

  Kresnik swept his arm toward the elites. “They will perform the most dangerous mission of all. Our reconnaissance team has found where the genocidal maniacs at Supernatural Council are keeping their stores of volcano-charged firestone. They will transport these precious weapons to the Flame, where they may be deployed for boosting your power for the battle ahead.”

  Applause thundered across the refectory, accompanied by wild shouts and cheers and whistles. Kresnik raised both palms, beaming under all the adulation.

  I also forced a smile and clapped, even though my insides quivered. Only one person would absorb the contents of the firestone, and that would be Kresnik. Everyone else would join the preternatural army.

  Frustration welled through my insides. Couldn’t they see what was happening? And what was the Council doing? They had to know by now that Hades and his team of demon enforcers hadn’t returned from their raid. Even if they didn’t, I was sure that they’d noticed the disappearance of the ward breakers who got caught sneaking about Hampstead Heath.

  “Show yourselves,” Kresnik shouted over the wild applause.

  The hooded elites pulled off their cloaks, revealing the faces of the people who had gotten hurt during the mission to take children from Logris, along with the people who had been singled out as still having magic during our last test.

  Everyone fell silent. Out of shock, awe, or realization of their impending fate, I couldn’t tell. As my gaze darted around the room, the chair next to mine scraped back, and Leman rose to his feet.

  “Roman?” His voice shook.

  I glanced from one twin to the other. Sometimes they were impossible to tell apart, particularly in moments of stress, because they were ninety-percent identical. Roman had the slightly rounder face, while Leman’s was more slender.

  Today, Roman’s blue eyes bordered on crimson. He stood in place, staring at his twin brother with a frown. His skin was paler than Leman’s, although I couldn’t tell if it was due to a lack of feeding or from not having much blood circulation. Valentine looked alive, consuming two men a day.

  Leman rushed across the maze of tables toward his brother and placed his hands on his shoulder. “Is that really you?”
/>   With a growl, Roman shoved him in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

  Coral’s stare burned the side of my face. I turned to meet the warning in her eyes, and her lips tightened as though telling me not to react. I offered her a slight nod. It was too late to save these new preternaturals, but maybe if I could resurrect Hades and then Valentine, they might work together to stop Kresnik.

  “Leman,” said Kresnik. “Try not to distract Roman from his mission.”

  Racon rose from the other end of our table and hurried across the room. He picked up the living twin and brought him back to his seat. I couldn’t see Leman’s face, but the trembling of his shoulders told me he was crying.

  My chest tightened with grief, and a sour taste spread across my tongue. It didn’t matter how they dressed up the facts. Roman was dead.

  Kresnik turned to address his audience. “We must all make sacrifices in the pursuit of freedom. Unfortunately, this means breaking up family and friendship groups, but I can assure you that the twins will get to play with each other after Roman has performed his mission.”

  Chuckles spread across the refectory and a few of the women made cooing sounds, as though it was cute that the twins were having a squabble because one became an elite while the other got to stay behind.

  Tremors shook through my insides, a simmering fury that threatened to break free. I bit down hard on my lip, trying to keep it all inside. Was I the only one in the room apart from Valentine and Coral who knew that these elites were dead? A soothing voice whispered in my ear. I couldn’t tell if Hades was trying to make me calm or if it was my common sense reminding me that I could achieve nothing with an outburst.

  The merriment faded, and I rested my chin against my clenched fist. These people were brainwashed, and none of them could see the truth until it directly affected their lives. Years of indoctrination and fear of the Supernatural Council had made them trust in the guidance of the only being who had sheltered their kind.

  “General Sargon, lead your new recruits to victory.” Kresnik saluted Valentine, who returned the gesture.

  As the preternatural army marched out of the dining room to more applause, my heart sank. How long would Valentine and I be apart this time?

  Instead of following after the other preternaturals, Valentine walked in our direction. I stiffened, wondering what he would say in front of everyone in the refectory.

  Valentine raised his hand and curled his fingers, beckoning for me to meet him. Without thinking about it, I pushed myself off the seat and walked to him on shaking legs. As the applause died down, everyone’s attention turned away from the retreating preternaturals toward Valentine. He strode past the tables with the grace of a predator, and my pulse boomed between my ears. What on earth was he planning?

  By the time we met, silence stretched across the room, and curiosity hung across the refectory like a cloud. Nobody moved, nobody so much as shuffled their feet. Not Kresnik, not Valentine, and not even the people standing behind us by the serving hatch.

  He pulled down the hood of my cloak, cupped the side of my face, and met my gaze with indigo eyes as dark as the midnight sky.

  “You belong to me,” he said in a deep voice that resonated through my bones to the marrow.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice breathy.

  Valentine’s lips crashed onto mine, and his arm curled around my back, pulling us close. His tongue delved between my lips, tasting, stroking, devouring me until I clutched at his arms with a whimper in the back of my throat.

  Sparks of excitement burst from our joined flesh and raced toward my tightening nipples and to my pulsing core. I loved kissing Valentine at the best of times, but why now and why in front of all these people?

  My mind was so addled by the sight of the preternatural army that I couldn’t tell if he was trying to reassure me of his love or warning others that I was his property. As his arms tightened around me and his hardness pressed into my belly, one thing became certain for sure.

  This was not a kiss goodbye. It was a promise that he would return.

  With a moan, I relaxed into his embrace and kissed back. Valentine tasted of smoke and spices, of raspberries and mint, and he felt like being intoxicated on sweet summer wine. My head spun, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

  Wolf-whistles filled the air. A few of the men sitting around the tables cat-called. The old Mera might have broken away from the kiss, terrified of making a scene, but I’d experienced too much, lost too much, suffered way too much to be picky about something as trivial as privacy.

  Just when I thought my mind would take flight like a bird, Valentine drew back from my mouth and trailed kisses along my jaw, nipping, teasing, sucking until my skin felt like it had been set on fire. Heat rushed to my core, making me squeeze my thighs together. I clung to his broad shoulders, wanting more, and moaned as his fangs pierced my neck.

  An orgasm tore through my insides, making my lips part in a silent scream. I don’t know how long he continued to drink my blood because the violent spasms of my climax seized every ounce of my attention. This was the first time he had fed from me since I’d made the blood oath, and somehow, Valentine had gotten me to believe that his bite was more important than my life.

  He pulled back, staring at me through crimson eyes and with a grin of blood-stained fangs. My pulse pounded loud enough to drown out the sounds of the spectators, but right then, I didn’t care what anyone thought. I only wanted another bite. Failing that, to lose myself in those dark, mesmerizing eyes.

  As he withdrew his arm from my waist, I stumbled back, only to be caught around the waist by another pair of strong arms. The sharp scent of citrus stung my nostrils, accompanied by an even sharper energy.

  “Really, Valentine,” Kresnik muttered. “How am I going to get an ounce of sense out of her if she’s lost in bliss?”

  “My apologies.” Valentine’s voice echoed in the back of my head. “The blood oath turns feeding into a sacred event. Give Mera ten minutes, and she’ll be ready for questioning.”

  I let my eyes flutter shut as the cold spread beneath my skin, pulling me into a state of bliss.

  Somewhere in the depths of my mind, a voice screamed at me to run.

  Valentine had just left me alone and in the arms of Kresnik.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sharp scent of ammonia forced me awake, stinging my nostrils and burning a line of fire through my sinuses. I gagged and spluttered and tried to thrash, but a large hand held me down on a firm surface.

  Valentine must have given me thrall in that last bite, and I hadn’t even felt the cold until he’d released me. I turned my head and coughed up a mouthful of foul air.

  My throat eventually cleared for long enough to take in my surroundings. I lay on a firm surface with cushions behind my head and my legs curled to the side. Someone had taken off my shoes, as I could curl my toes, but the reaper cloak remained around my body like a shroud.

  As I drifted awake, a cool, damp cloth patted at the side of my face.

  “Awake now?” asked a deep voice. It was supposed to be fatherly and gentle, but there was a sharpness to the energy behind it that pressed into the base of my spine like a knife.

  My muscles stiffened, and a vague memory of Valentine handing me over to Kresnik rose to the front of my mind. Fury simmered through my insides, evaporating the last vestiges of sleep. I had no idea what that vampire had been thinking to leave me weak and vulnerable in the hands of my worst enemy.

  I cracked open an eye to find myself lying on a leather sofa within a study that reminded me of the library within the derelict mansion. Martika knelt at my side, holding a cloth. When our gazes met, she drew back and scurried away.

  “Where am I?” I asked, already knowing the answer. It was better than asking why the hell Kresnik had spirited me away into his lair.

  “Hemera,” he said from behind the sofa.

  I rolled onto my back to meet pale eyes and a smile as broad as a crocod
ile’s. He wasn’t nearly as handsome from this angle, and it was as though he hadn’t thought through the glamor he’d created to make himself different from Father Jude.

  “Father?” I croaked. “Did I faint?”

  With a soft chuckle, Kresnik walked around the sofa and lowered himself onto the seat. “Valentine draws heavily on your blood, doesn’t he?”

  I pushed myself up to sitting, resting my back against the armrest. “It’s my honor to feed—”

  “Shhhhh…” He placed a finger on my lips. “I do not wish to incite you to speak badly of your master.”

  Disgust rippled through my insides, and my heart revved up to triple speed. It took every ounce of self-control not to flinch at his touch. I averted my gaze from his eyes to a stray lash that had landed on his cheek and forced deep breaths in and out of my lungs.

  I had to stay calm. Calm was the only way I would get through what was looking to be an interrogation.

  Still with his thick finger pressed against my lips, Kresnik raised a hand and clicked his fingers. Moments later, Martika arrived with a tray laden with a coffee pot, cream jug, and a bowl of crystallized brown sugar. She set it down on a low table that I hadn’t noticed until now, and backed away.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled my nostrils. Under other circumstances my mouth might water, but all I wanted to do was spit.

  “How do you take your coffee, my dear?” He finally removed his finger from my lips.

  “Black, no sugar,” I whispered.

  His lips stretched into a smile that looked more like the gnashing of teeth. “Because you’re sweet enough.”

  A hysterical laugh bubbled from the back of my throat. “That’s right.”

  Kresnik leaned toward me. “Are you pleasing your master?”

  I lowered my lashes, trying to guess where he was going with this line of conversation. If this would end in Kresnik suggesting I step aside to let Martika take care of Valentine, I didn’t think I could stay calm.

 

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