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

by Bella Klaus

  “Do you know how to siphon magic from an unwilling object?” Hades asked.

  My fingers wrapped around the stone heart, which throbbed in sync with my pulse. “I’m just going to suck the power into my body.”

  He scoffed. “I’ll take that answer as a no.”

  “How do you do it, then?” I asked.

  His magic crackled. “Put your cloak back on.”

  Without hesitating, I shook out the reaper cloak, slung it around my shoulders, and fastened its clasp. After pulling up the hood, I asked, “Why?”

  “Four goons are headed your way, each of them looking determined to find you,” he said.

  I slipped the heart in my pocket and gulped.

  A heavy fist knocked on the door. “Sister Hemera?”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Our Lord requires your presence in ritual room two.” The man opened the door. He was tall with copper skin that made his bald head appear especially polished. I had never seen him around. “Attendance is mandatory.”

  I stepped back, but the man threw out an arm and lassoed me around the shoulders with a rope of flame.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Somehow you escaped Brothers Nigel, Peter, and Desmond. Our Lord is waiting, and the ritual cannot start without you.”

  Bitterness coated my tongue, and I clenched my teeth. “What’s your name, so I can tell General Sargon how you ensnared me like a wild horse?”

  His hearty laugh told me everything. After tonight’s ritual, I wouldn’t be telling Valentine a thing. The man reeled in his rope of fire, making me jog across the room to stop him from dragging me into the hallway.

  I glowered into the back of his bald head, wishing I was the kind of shifter that could spit acid long distances. He was following orders, but did he have to be such a dick?

  The man led me through the empty hallway, and I stared at the white walls, wondering if this was the last time I would see them alive. This morning, when Kresnik had tried to extract my magic, he had wanted to keep me intact, but I got the feeling that he wouldn’t hesitate to crack me open to access my power.

  Ritual room two was a square space where around a hundred young people sat cross-legged with their backs against the earthen walls. In the middle, a dozen four-foot-tall candles stood in a circle with flames that stretched three feet toward the vaulted ceiling.

  The usual chalked symbols decorated the floor, forming overlapping six-pointed stars that connected to each of the tall candles. Three sets of cushions occupied the center of the shapes. Healer Calla sat cross-legged on one with her eyes closed and her hands resting on her bent knees. As was customary for these events, she wore a white robe.

  The space next to her was empty, which I guessed would be for Kresnik, and on the third cushion sat Aurora.

  She sat as still as death, meeting my gaze with an expressionless mask. Sweat beaded across her brow, and her breaths were shallow, making her lean forward with each exhale. As the man led me to a corner seat, I stared back, wondering if she was terrified or if the pain was returning.

  The fire around my shoulders fizzled out, releasing the tension from around my body, and the man pressed a heavy hand on my head, indicating for me to sit.

  A moment later, the candles in the ritual circle flared, expanding to twice their width and stretching toward the ceiling. I squinted against the glare, and when I finally blinked my vision into focus, the white-clad figure of Father Jude stood in the circle with his arms outstretched.

  “Good evening,” he boomed.

  Gasps echoed across the ritual room, and everyone applauded. I rested my head in my hands, trying to drown out the applause and pushing away thoughts of how these people could admire someone who performed cheap tricks with stolen magic and treated them like cattle.

  My fingers grazed the firestone in my pocket. It was too late to siphon my magic from the heart. If Kresnik called me up and tested my power levels, it would be his for the plundering.

  Valentine.

  A surge of desperation forced me to call out for Valentine in my mind. Kresnik had taken my magic, but how much of it did he have left? My blood still coursed through Valentine’s veins, and he had heard my distress and risen from his grave once before. He had fed from me every day—surely he would hear me from within this ritual room.

  “Thank you, my dear children,” Kresnik said in his fatherly voice.

  I glanced around the ritual room for friendly faces and locked eyes with Coral, who sat directly opposite me. To her left was Gail, who also stared at me, and Leman, who bowed his head, looking like a man in the throes of grief.

  How I wished I knew what they were all thinking right now. We hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk about Roman being turned into a preternatural vampire.

  Whatever Kresnik said became muffled by the boom of my heart and the ragged breaths heaving in and out of my lungs. Any moment now, Kresnik would call me to the center and extract the magic from my heart.

  I curled my hands into fists. Maybe I should offer him the firestone that encased my heart. But if I did that, he would ask where I got it, and if he discovered that Aurora had taken it for herself, he would punish her.

  And one more punishment would mean her death.

  “Five hundred years ago, when warriors from the Supernatural Council stormed our compound and wanted to drag all fire users into Hell, I cast off the majority of my magic to make them think I had perished.”

  My brows furrowed. Kresnik faked his death five hundred years ago? They told us in the academy that he had burned out his magical core, and Valentine had corroborated that. Nobody sitting around appeared surprised at the revelation, except Coral, who rubbed her chin.

  I leaned forward and listened closer.

  “For four centuries, I dwelled among you in our safe houses, holding the wards while you lived in peace and prosperity.” Kresnik walked around Aurora and Healer Calla, casting his glower over everyone seated around the ritual room.

  “When enforcers came for you a second time, what did I do?” He stopped in front of Martika and leaned down to make eye contact.

  She flinched. “You fought while everyone moved on to the next safe house, My Lord.”

  “I sacrificed myself again, so you would escape,” he snarled. Kresnik continued walking around the room. “Jude, my closest acolyte, absorbed my ability to maintain the wards and led you all to safety, and he worked tirelessly through the decades to bring me back.”

  Some of the women around the room burst into tears. I glanced from side to side, not knowing if they were crying out of guilt or fear. Everyone sitting here ranged from thirty to thirteen—far too young to have been involved in any of the events Kresnik referenced.

  “Is this true?” I whispered beneath the sounds of the wailing.

  “We raided a mansion outside London that belonged to the Royal House of Sargon,” said Hades. “That’s where we found Kresnik’s injured body and dragged his soul to Hell.”

  As Kresnik continued his rant, I confirmed several facts. One, that he had separated himself into multiple parts—divinity, magic, body, soul, and shadow. Two, that he lost his divinity thousands of years ago. Three, the so-called mage who had built a mansion on the land Valentine’s father had purchased during his time as a preternatural had been Kresnik.

  Four, after being secured to a rock and having his liver eaten every day, losing most of his magic, and being cast into hell, Kresnik had become quite mad.

  He clapped at his chest with his palm. “All the time I was gone, the Supernatural Council slaughtered children like you. Each person sitting here owes their existence to me.”

  My heart sank. This was where even more people would learn the truth about their parentage.

  “With the help of Jude, I bred each and every one of you with strong mothers and even stronger magic, hoping to instill you with power in a digestible form.”

  Outraged chatter broke out across the r
oom. I placed my trembling fingers over my lips and glanced in the direction of the door, which had now disappeared. Why did I think I was Kresnik’s target? The man would devour us all.

  Kresnik turned to meet my eyes. “Bring forward the first child.”

  My muscles tightened, and I clenched my teeth, ready to kick him in the balls if he came near.

  With an almighty creak, the door opened, and the man who had brought me in with the lasso of fire carried in a small figure who squirmed in his arms.

  My stomach plummeted, and every ounce of blood in my veins turned to sludge. I tried to rise, but a force stronger than gravity rooted me to the floor.

  The man walked in front of me and dropped his quarry on the floor. It was the little girl we had rescued from enforcers in Logris, Petra.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I sat against the wall, my ears ringing with the screams that echoed across ritual room two. The power holding me in place seized my head with the same cold grip that had descended on me when I had lost my memories the day of the ball.

  No matter how much I tried to jerk or scream or close my eyes, I remained locked in Kresnik’s gaze. His power snaked into my mind, trying to burrow through my nonexistent defenses and claim my secrets, but images of Valentine rose to the surface, making Kresnik back out.

  He bared his teeth, staring at me with burning hatred, even when he held the life of a little girl to ransom.

  Every muscle in my body strained as I tried to break free, but the invisible force held me down.

  “Whose magic is holding me back?” I whispered from between clenched teeth.

  “Not me,” Hades whispered back.

  I believed him. Maybe it was the sight of all the other fire users straining against invisible bonds around the room.

  Kresnik stretched his arms wide, making Petra’s squirming body rise four feet off the floor. Her face contorted with pain, but her voice was muffled. The force holding us all down stretched out her limbs to stop her from squirming.

  “This child contains a unique form of hellfire,” he snarled. “Would you believe I bred her from the soul of a basan I found in the Fifth Faction of Hell?”

  The cold magic around my head receded as Kresnik cast his gaze around my side of the room. Basans were also known as fire roosters that could produce both hot and cold flames, but I still didn’t understand how he would benefit from stealing the weak magic of a child.

  “He’s breeding spies,” Hades whispered beneath the panicked chatter.

  I didn’t dare speak because Kresnik’s gaze returned to me.

  “We use basans in Hell to infiltrate other factions and report back on plots against us,” Hades added.

  All I could think about was the little girl suspended against her will. I shot Healer Calla a helpless glance, but the woman clasped her hands to her chest and smiled up at Kresnik.

  Aurora stared straight ahead as though trying to place her mind somewhere else. There was nothing Aurora could do to help as she was probably still thinking of her last punishment.

  Thoughts whizzed through my head. I’d heard of Greek gods taking the form of mortal men in order to impregnate their wives. Had Kresnik gotten one of his proxies to infiltrate Logris so that Petra’s mother could birth a basan shifter? It would explain why she looked so different from everyone else in her family. What was the point of all this—how much power did one person need to possess?

  Kresnik turned his gaze back to me, his eyes burning with malice. The candles surrounding the ritual circle flickered, making his bronze skin look like it crackled with excitement.

  “Calla, prepare the child.”

  The old woman rose from her seat, reached into the pocket of her white dress, and extracted a pair of cutting shears. I held my breath as she slipped her fingers beneath the child’s t-shirt and cut the garment from hem to collar.

  She stepped back and raised her hand.

  A large man in denim scurried forward with a box from which she extracted a liter bottle of a dark substance that was almost certainly vampire blood. Cold spread through my insides, emptying out my lungs. I would have reeled forward with horror if it hadn’t been for the magic holding me in place.

  They were going to extract the girl’s magic and turn her into a preternatural. What was the point in that?

  Kresnik rolled up his sleeves, rubbed his hands together, and positioned himself at the little girl’s side. “Calla and I have devised another method to extract magic but it will stunt the individual’s growth.”

  A scream caught in the back of my throat. My gaze locked with Aurora’s who stared up at Petra. Sweat poured down her face, and her entire body trembled. This was so unnecessarily cruel, even for Kresnik.

  His face broke into a grin. “If any flying shifter would like to take her place, speak up now.”

  The magic holding down my body loosened, and an invisible force pushed me forward, making me land with a slap of my palms on the wooden floor. Cries of relief spread across the room, and some of the people sitting even applauded.

  As I slumped forward, breathing hard against the effort of having strained my muscles for so long, realization settled on the back of my head like a pile of steaming shit.

  “Hemera Griffin,” he said in a voice like thunder. “You wish to offer up your magic to spare Petra Pardus?”

  Bile rose to the back of my throat, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Kresnik never intended to extract Petra’s magic. He chose her out of all the little children in the Flame because I had gone to Logris to rescue her. Because I had asked to return to Logris to save her family. Because we had a connection.

  Kresnik probably made up all that crap about her being a flying shifter so I would volunteer to take her place.

  Hell, the bastard had thrown me forward with his magic, so everyone could see me volunteer. The worst part was that I could no longer pretend I was magicless because everyone in the room was depending on me to follow through with my sacrifice to save Petra.

  “Hemera Griffin,” he roared. “I ask you again!”

  Hades made a snarl of disgust. “What a complete and utter cock.”

  My hands curled into fists, and I snarled, “I offer up my magic.”

  “Then come forth, my daughter.”

  “Don’t,” said Hades.

  It didn’t matter if Kresnik intended to drain the magic of everyone in the room. What he wanted right now was the power of a phoenix. He’d deliberately placed Petra within my line of sight to prompt me into admitting I had power. Perhaps by now, he couldn’t even regenerate a flea and knew that the ability to regenerate had reverted back to me.

  I stumbled to my feet and trudged across the wooden floor toward the circle of candles. By now, Petra’s eyes were closed, but her chest rose and fell with even breaths. Terror had probably overwhelmed her and knocked her unconscious. The man who had brought Petra in removed her from where she hovered in front of Kresnik and laid her on the floor outside the circle.

  Kresnik beckoned for me to come closer. My hackles rose and my feet skidded out of disgust for the man, but the same invisible force made me glide into his arms.

  He pressed a kiss on my forehead. “Good girl.”

  I parted my lips to say something, but his magic had wired my jaw shut.

  “Listen carefully, children, you’re about to hear something special. Hemera was particularly difficult to conceive.” He chuckled, as though making an inside joke, although nobody was laughing.

  “Do you know how long Jude searched the realm of the gods for a phoenix ready for the plundering?” he asked nobody in particular. “Centuries.”

  I swayed on my feet, but Kresnik’s arms around my back held me steady.

  Healer Calla walked toward us, her eyes shining with joy. With a firm grip, the old woman pulled me out of Kresnik’s grasp and gestured with her arms outstretched for me to lie on the floor.

  Bile rose to the back of my throat. How the hell was I going to get out of this? I had
absolutely no doubt that Kresnik would hurt Petra if I refused. But I couldn’t say anything with his magic clamping my jaw together.

  Pressure landed on my shoulders, pushing me down to my knees and laying me flat on my back. Fists pounded on my eardrums to the rapid beat of my pulse, and my muscles stiffened, trying to buck. This was it. The moment Kresnik finally got his hands on my power.

  “Fifty years ago on one of his jaunts to the realm of the gods, Jude finally found a pile of ash,” said Kresnik. “Next to it stood the soul of a phoenix, waiting for its body to regenerate.”

  Kresnik wiped away a tear of joy. “Jude wrestled with the beast’s spirit for days and eventually freed the phoenix and brought it to our realm. It took another thirty years of experimentation to work out how to combine the souls of animals with those of unborn humans to create the ultimate being of fire.”

  I reached out with my mind to Valentine, not caring that I’d never before communicated with him telepathically. Perhaps the threat of death or being turned into a preternatural might pierce through the wards and reach him.

  My body rose off the floor, making my stomach spasm with the need to expel the bites of sweetcorn and mayonnaise sandwich I’d managed to eat between feeding Macavity.

  Healer Calla gestured at her neck, implying that I should open the fastening of my cloak. I shook my head, but Kresnik pushed her aside and stood in front of me with a wide smile.

  “Thanks to our determination to make you, we have so many lesser shifters.” The ends of his fingers turned an incandescent white, and he reached for the fastenings of my cloak and flipped open the clasp.

  My breath caught, and beads of sweat formed on my brow and trickled down my scalp. How had he managed to get through the reaper cloak when the Mage King had failed?

  Kresnik turned to his audience and beamed. “Every shifter in the room owes their existence to Hemera’s phoenix. The older ones among you were practice runs so we would create the ultimate power source to guarantee your survival in the upcoming war.”