Wicked Vampire Prince by Bella Klaus
Chapter Eleven
Istood at the other side of Serena’s door, gaping across the bank’s main room at the enforcers. They strode toward me, their eyes boring into my soul.
My breaths turned shallow. This couldn’t be part of the security procedure, because I’d already proven my connection with Prince Draconius. The bank knew I had a claim. This had to be about his escape and current whereabouts.
“Sister Iyana Torchbearer?” asked the enforcer on the right, a six-foot-tall male whose mauve eyes glinted like freshly polished amethysts. He had the pointed features of a vampire, but without the beauty. I was guessing he was probably a mage.
“Yes?” I croaked.
“May we have a word with you in private?”
I stiffened. “About what?”
“It’s just routine questions,” replied his partner, who was a five-foot-ten man with deep brown skin a few shades darker than mine. His silver eyes and hair made me wonder if he was related to the Witch Queen.
My eyes narrowed. “Why are you being so cryptic?”
“Excuse me?” asked the first enforcer.
“Routine questions about what?” I asked. “There’s no way I’m going anywhere with a pair of strange men.”
“It’s related to the escape of an enemy of the Supernatural Council,” he said. “And by routine, I mean that enforcers are chasing up anything related to such a highly pursued criminal.”
“I thought he was dead,” I blurted.
The dark-skinned enforcer tilted his head to the side. “Now, why would a nun from a small temple be trying to claim the estate of someone who is alive and at large?”
“That’s fraud, you know.”
My lips tightened with annoyance. It was nothing of the sort because I was collecting the money on behalf of Prince Draconius. But I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to tell them that. I folded my arms across my chest. “How do you know he didn’t get killed by angels?”
“Excuse me?” the first enforcer asked again.
“I was in a blood salon at the time of the newsflash, but Prince Draconius was out there on the streets.”
“That’s what we came to ask you.” He rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “We have footage of the two of you liaising on the day of his escape in front of Salon Sinn.”
My stomach plummeted to the black-and-white floor tiles. If the Council had obtained footage of Prince Draconius escaping the palace dungeons, then they were also likely to have pulled feeds from the security cameras on the street or from Salon Sinn itself.
I smoothed out my features into a neutral mask. “When I picket blood salons, I make sure to talk to all vampires about the error of drinking from the vein as well as warn Neutrals about the dangers of letting strange fangs into their bodies.”
“How very admirable,” the first enforcer said with a tight smile.
“How do you explain this?” The second enforcer reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone.
My pulse quickened. I already knew what he would show me, and it looked pretty bad. After tapping a few commands into the phone’s screen, he pulled up clear footage of me talking to a shirtless vampire and handing him a bottle of blood.
“It looks like you were giving your accomplice sustenance to continue the second leg of his escape,” said the first enforcer.
“This is me trying to educate a vampire on why bottled blood is better than biting others. I didn’t know his name.”
“But it isn’t better,” said the dark-skinned enforcer.
I spluttered. “Not for the poor bastard getting bitten.”
“How do you explain this?” He tapped on the screen and zoomed in on the part where my gaze lingered on the vampire’s chest.
My nostrils flared. I looked guilty of being an accomplice, even though in some respects it was true. “That’s just some random vampire,” I blurted. “And where do you expect me to look when there’s a half-naked man? I was curious and my eyes wandered. It’s not like they supply man chest at the Temple of Light.”
“You deny being the accomplice of a fugitive?”
The two enforcers stared down at me with accusing glowers sharp enough to pierce my skin. This did look incriminating, but that had actually been an innocent exchange. The locket keeping my voodoo doll’s protection spells had been intact, and Prince Draconius hadn’t even considered me worth notice.
“That’s not Prince Draconius,” I blurted.
He stepped back. “How so?”
“He’s an ancient vampire. Have you seen his pictures on the New Mesopotamia site?”
The enforcers shared glances. I had no idea if they were communicating silently or just looking into each other’s eyes, but I tapped the side of my neck. “Four years ago, I met the prince, and he told me we were fated mates. That’s when he bit me, and I escaped.”
“How?”
I stepped back and bumped into Serena’s door. “Pardon?”
“How would an unarmed nun escape an ancient vampire who served in every major war in the past few thousand years?”
The urge to tell him about our combat training rose to the surface, but nothing they taught us in the temple could rival the speed and strength and cunning of an ancient vampire. Nothing but the blackest of magic, and I wasn’t about to get myself arrested for my desperate attempt at self-defense.
“I told him I wasn’t ready.”
The first enforcer narrowed his eyes. “That’s all?”
I nodded. “He claimed me that night and said he would return for me in a few years. Like maybe two hundred.”
“Why?”
“Maybe because vampires are patient?” I snapped. “Why don’t you ask him yourself if he survived the magical disturbance?”
“Did Prince Draconius make himself known to you after his escape?” he asked.
“No.”
“How do you explain your conversation with him outside Salon Sinn?” asked the dark-skinned enforcer.
“You’re the one telling me that was Prince Draconius,” I said with a shrug. “Do you see an ounce of recognition in either of our eyes? No, because the vampire who bit me was ancient, and this vampire doesn’t look much older than any other.”
The first enforcer pulled out a card. “If you hear anything—”
“I’ll be sure to call you.” I plucked it from his fingers. “Now, may I continue my business?”
“Why would a nun need to access his vault?”
I unfolded my arms and placed my hands on my hips. “One of our principles is charity.”
He stepped back and raised his gloved hands. “That’s all we came to ask. Enjoy the rest of your morning.”
I clamped my lips shut and waited for the pair to walk out through the bank’s double doors before I headed back to Mr. Hyde’s desk and scowled. “Did you really need to call the enforcers on a client?”
The man’s features pinched. “A bank such as ours has survived for thousands of years by at least making a show of following the law. We couldn’t be seen to be protecting His Highness or his accomplices.”
I gulped. Did he just imply he knew Prince Draconius was still alive? Not that it mattered. I’d managed to get rid of the enforcers, and now I was ready to return to my room, get rid of the half-naked royal pest, and continue my life.
“Did you check with the Fates?” I placed a hand on the marble counter.
He steepled his fingers. “My colleagues managed to verify your status as the fated mate of Prince Draconius and his principal heir. How may the bank be of service?”
“I’d like to make a withdrawal.”
Mr. Hyde rose from his seat and gestured toward a door across the room, in the opposite direction from where they had stashed Serena. I walked past the row of employees, who all stared at me through eerily similar pale faces.
The door led to a darkened hallway that smelled of mildew. I suppressed a shudder and reminded myself that enchantments existed to freshen the air. These people probably wanted their customers to feel like they were walking into some kind of ancient vault. The smell only added to the mysterious ambiance.
“After you.” With the sweep of his hand, Mr. Hyde turned on green lighting that illuminated a tunnel of arched brick walls that stretched downward to a metal elevator.
“This looks like the belly of a snake,” I whispered.
He placed both hands on his belly and chuckled. “How very droll, madam.”
My eyes narrowed. Was he making fun of me or laughing along because the Fates had confirmed my claim on the prince’s fortune? With an inward breath, I gathered my courage and stepped into the hallway. “Why doesn’t this part of the bank look as upscale as the public area?”
“Some of our clients are resistant to change and remember how our institution looked in the early days,” he murmured.
“So, this is part of the mystique?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” he said. “I should warn you that we’re entering a black zone.”
“What’s that?”
“No communications are permitted, magical, electronic, or through soul bonds.”
We continued down the hallway, our footsteps echoing as though the space was much larger than it appeared. Mr. Hyde activated the elevator door with a flick of his hand, and we stepped into a narrow space with carvings of multiple-headed snakes.
The doors closed, and I wrapped my arms around myself as the cab sank for what felt like ten minutes.
“How deep are these vaults?” I asked.
He tapped the side of his nose. “We tend not to answer questions such as those in case the answer falls into the wrong hands.”
“You’re worried about bank robbers?”
He inclined his head. “Quite.”
The elevator stopped, and the door hissed open into a fifty-foot-square chamber that looked like it had been carved from stone. Taking up the wall opposite was a metal panel the size of my cell with a round door. In the middle of it was a six-foot-wide lever with six spokes.
I rubbed the back of my head through two layers of fabric and turned to Mr. Hyde. “Am I supposed to know the combination?”
“We can take an imprint of your soul if His Majesty didn’t give it to you before his untimely demise.” His hand hovered behind the small of my back, indicating for me to step out of the elevator.
My legs went rigid, and a tight band wrapped around my chest. “What does that entail?”
“You simply push your magic into the eye of the door, and it will take a reading. If the imprint matches His Majesty’s, then open sesame.”
Enough of the tightness around my lungs loosened for me to exhale, and I stepped out into the stone room. A steady hum sounded from above, and I tilted my head up to find the entire ceiling consisted of ventilation grates filled with tiny lights.
When we reached the door, Mr. Hyde rapped his knuckles at a disc in the center, which parted to reveal the green eye of a snake.
“What is that?” I whispered.
“The soul reader,” he whispered back. “Would you like to infuse it with your magic so we may reach His Majesty’s vault?”
Heat rose to my cheeks. Somewhere within the polite delivery of his words was a trace of sarcasm. I placed my hand on my chest, and turned to the bank employee. “What happens if there isn’t a match?”
“There shouldn’t be a problem with opening the vault, since the Fates confirmed your identity.” His thin brows drew together. “Is there something I can do to smooth the process?”
“Tell me why there’s added security, when one employee examined my bite and another checked my claim to the money with a goddess in Hell.”
Mr. Hyde exhaled a sharp breath, his features pinching. “Lerna Bank is the oldest and most financially secure institution in the world. We will do everything within the realms of magic to uphold this reputation.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” I said through clenched teeth. “What happens if the door doesn’t deem me worthy?”
His nostrils flared, and a muscle in his jaw flexed. “If the guardian believes your claim to be fraudulent, the door will not open. It will suck your body into the vault, where His Majesty can retrieve you at his leisure.”
“What was the point of all those tests and questions if the door was the ultimate decider of who would access his funds?”
Mr. Hyde opened his mouth, presumably to repeat the spiel about the bank being the most secure, but I raised a hand. “Is he the only person who can rescue me?”
He shook his head. “Anyone he has authorized could open this door.”
“Will my phone work down here?” I asked.
His lips tightened, and his cheekbones rounded with the beginnings of a smile. “Hardly.”
What a complete and utter banker. Was he trying to get me stuck in the vault until some relative of Draco came to collect my bones? I glowered at the green eye, whose slitted pupil widened under my attention.
My shoulders sagged. It wasn’t like I had many options. I could tell the Supernatural Council I was harboring their most wanted criminal, but King Valentine might do something to Prince Draconius’ soul that affected my existence. The only other option I could think of was to gather that money, help the Vampire Prince to escape, and forget he ever existed.
“Alright.” I hovered my hand over the eye and shot a stream of magic from my palm.
Nothing happened for several moments, and I wondered if this vault guardian had fallen asleep. Then four sharp pricks pierced my skin, and I jumped backward with a scream.
“What was that for?” I clutched my hand to my chest.
Mr. Hyde tilted his head to the side. “It would appear that you’re borderline. Have you fully embraced your soul bond?”
“Of course not,” I spat.
“That would explain why it needed the additional blood sample.” He wiggled his fingers, and the handles of the door turned left, then right, then right again in a sequence of patterns that made no sense.
I ground my teeth. “Could you at least have warned me?”
“My apologies, madam, but most young women fated to mate with powerful and handsome vampires do so without hesitation.”
There was a reprimand somewhere in his voice, but I ignored it and turned back to the door, which opened with a click. Mr. Hyde grabbed the handle and pulled with all his might. I could have helped him with my magic, but I wasn’t feeling too charitable toward the man.
Once he’d pulled the door open, it revealed another door set within a wall of railings. Beyond it was a hallway of arched stone walls with corridors. It stretched at least five hundred feet with openings that led to large chambers. Glass display cabinets lined the way, each containing crowns, old paintings, and ancient scrolls.
I stepped through the second door, my eyes wide, my head turning from side to side. “Which one belongs to Prince Draconius?”
“This entire space is his vault,” Mr. Hyde said.
“But it’s a whole basement.”
He inclined his head. “A vampire of his age and rank accumulates much over numerous millennia.”
I paused at the first chamber, which was the size of our temple’s hospice and contained statues, coats of armor, and huge leather trunks. In the center of the space sat a golden tortoise, blinking at me through diamond eyes. One of the containers was so filled with coins that it couldn’t even close.
Wandering inside, I tried to close my mouth, but my jaw remained wedged open. “How can a person keep so much stuff?”
“I can assure you that there are those whose vaults span dozens of floors,” Mr. Hyde replied. “This one is modest in comparison, and it contains all the deposits His Highness made over time and across branches all over the world.”
“How does that work?” I glanced around for a container large enough to fit enough gold coins to both clear my debt and pay a smuggler to help Prince Draconius through the wards.
“All branches of Lerna lead to the same pocket dimension in Hell.”
His words hit like a kick to the head and I whirled around to meet his slate-gray eyes. “We’re in the world of the dead?”
“Not quite,” he replied with a nervous laugh. “These vaults exist between worlds. You are quite safe from demons.”
My gaze landed on an empty wheelbarrow which had been turned to the side. “How am I going to transport the money? I can’t walk around Logris with so much cash.”
“We can convert any amount to digital gold, subject to a one percent transaction fee,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “The bank our temple uses does it for free. Maybe I should move my new fortune to them.”
The corners of Mr. Hyde’s lips curled into a smile. “Then we will endeavor to bring down our fees to match those of our competitors.”
“Good.” I pulled out my wand and pointed it at the wheelbarrow, making it right itself. With a flick of magic, I lifted up the trunk and floated it across the chamber.
“Miss Torchbearer?” said Mr. Hyde.
“Yes?” I placed the trunk on the wheelbarrow.
“We don’t require your help in converting physical gold to virtual, but if you’re looking to withdraw a large quantity of coins, you may wish to use our discreet pouches.”
“How much will that cost?” I cringed as I said the words. Here I was, standing among more money than I knew what to do with, and I was quibbling over the cost of a magical purse.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension in my muscles. This wasn’t really my money. It belonged to Prince Draconius, who was very much alive. Just because he had lots of cash, it didn’t mean I had to spend it unwisely.
Mr. Hyde held out a suede pouch embossed with a logo of a nine-headed snake. “There is no charge for our oldest accounts.”
“Thanks.” I floated the wheelbarrow’s contents into the pouch, guessing that Prince Draconius could redeposit any money he didn’t need when he returned to New Mesopotamia.
After Mr. Hyde had transferred enough money into my Hatch account and added extra in case Prince Draconius needed to spend more, I placed the pouch in my coat’s inside pocket and followed him out of the vault.
As we walked through the hallway lit by thousands of tiny bulbs, I rubbed my chin. “Do the wards of Logris extend down here?”
“We’re in another dimension,” he replied.
“I know, but the part of the vaults that link to the bank—”
“Traverse all known wards, including those of Logris,” he replied.
“How is that possible?”
“Lerna Bank is tens of thousands of years old, and we existed long before the supernatural races decided to form settlements.”
I nodded, my mind whirling with possibilities. “Could you use these passages to travel from one branch to another?”
“This is a mode of international transportation for our employees,” he said, his voice guarded.
“How much would you charge to let one person travel from Logris to New Mesopotamia?”
Mr. Hyde paused in the middle of the hallway and stared down at me, his features a blank mask. “What you’re asking contravenes every treaty we hold with supernatural governments all over the world.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Lerna Bank is the bearer of ancient wealth, the lender of last resort. In the days of Prometheus and the Titans, our founder stored gold for clients in his belly. When the Titans fell, we served the Olympians. And when a disaster of untold magnitude tore them asunder, we held strong because of our principles.”
My lips parted to release a gasp. I hadn’t realized the bank was so important. The vaults were the perfect opportunity to get rid of Prince Draconius, and I had to ask.
I smoothed down the lapels of my coat and tried to expel the feeling of awkwardness in an outward breath. “Thanks for explaining. May I return to the surface?”
Mr. Hyde swept his arm to the side and guided me back to the elevator. “This will take you to our back door, which leads you back to the arcade.”
“Why can’t I exit through the main room?”
He stared down at me with a tight frown. “We have another customer.”
I gaped up at the peculiar man and didn’t bother to ask why on earth they would arrange a bank so that it only served one customer at a time. It was probably something to do with their desire to appear exclusive.
We rode the rest of the way in silence, until the elevator doors opened into another hallway of curved walls but filled with the sound of dripping water. Mr. Hyde swept his arm toward a set of double doors.
“Thank you for banking with Lerna,” he said with a deep bow. “We look forward to your return.”
“Thanks for your help.” I stepped out into the hallway and toward the exit.
The elevator doors whirred shut behind me, and I pulled the lapels of my coat together. After today, I would have no need to return here. Fated mate or not, I was ready to end my association with the Vampire Prince.
I placed a hand on the door, which swung open to reveal the boutiques and cafés I’d seen earlier. Daylight streamed in through the arcade’s vast doors, looking like it was close to lunchtime. I placed a hand on my belly. Perhaps I could buy a hemp burger and order an Überwald back to the temple.
“Sister Torchbearer?” said a voice from behind.
The shadows parted, revealing the enforcers from earlier.
I took another step through the exit, only to find my leg stuck to the floor. Something snaked around my boot, and squeezed. My pulse quickened, and all the moisture evaporated from my throat.
“What are you doing?” I reached for my wand.
The enforcers stepped toward me, looking even larger and bulkier in the gloom.
“Please move your hand from the door,” said the paler man.
My stomach roiled, and my heart galloped toward my ribcage. Since when did enforcers ambush people in dark hallways when they could just arrest them or bring them in for questioning? Whatever was around my boot tried pulling me away from the exit, but I sent a stream of magic out through my wand to create several wedges under the door to hold it open.
“What do you want with me?” I asked.
“We have a few more questions,” the first enforcer replied.
I glanced out into the arcade and sent out a flare of light, but it stopped against an invisible barrier. My throat dried. This had to be light magic and not a ward. If they’d erected something solid enough, they wouldn’t have restrained my feet.
“If you want to know anything, I’ll come with you to the Supernatural Council, where you can ask whatever you want in front of your superiors.”
The paler of the pair swaggered forward, his purple eyes glinting with malice. “What did you take from the Vampire Prince’s vault?”
“How is that any of your business?” I asked.
“There’s a ten thousand gold crown reward for anyone who locates the whereabouts of Prince Draconius,” said the darker enforcer. “You’re the last person who was seen with him and here you are with your fingers in his vault.”
His partner nodded. “One would think the death penalty for harboring him would make her think twice about sheltering such a dangerous criminal.”
The dark-skinned man wagged his finger. “But what if the prince bribed her with enough gold to make it worth the risk?”
“Like the contents of his entire vault?” asked the other man.
My heart stuttered. That was almost what had happened the other day, except from the part where he told me that the phoenix would sacrifice his soul to Tartarus and mine would be dragged along for the ride.
I licked my dry lips, trying to think up something to say, but my mind went blank. All they needed to do was raid my cell and bring a wardmaster whose magic could overpower the imps’ security system, and they’d find the prince.
A shiver ran down my spine. Not only would they find him, but the Supernatural Council would execute me for harboring a fugitive. Since the Witch Queen was also one of them, she would probably make sure something terrible happened to all the Sisters.
“This isn’t what you’re thinking.” I pointed my wand at my foot and shot light at the floor. Whatever was holding my foot slithered away.
The paler enforcer bared his teeth. “Are you resisting arrest as well as harboring a fugitive?”
“You haven’t arrested me yet,” I blurted. “All I see is a pair of weirdos.”
“We just want to come to an arrangement,” said the dark-skinned enforcer.
“What kind?” I asked.
“Close the door, and we’ll tell you.”
Cool magic snaked around my wrist. I glanced down to find a shadow wrapped around my arm, indicating that my suspicions about the paler enforcer had been right. He was a shadow mage and was trying to take control of my body.
Shadows wrapped around my trembling fingers, slipping between my skin and the door. I pointed my wand at my hand and illuminated it with magic, making the shadows fade. Another set wrapped around my ankles and yanked me back, making me have to hold onto the wall to stay upright.
“She’s forced the exit with her magic,” one of the men snarled.
Darkness engulfed my body, tearing my wand from my fingers. The crack of wood filled the air. One of those bastards had snapped it in half.
I opened my mouth to scream, but shadows slithered down my throat. For the next frantic heartbeats, I couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
This part of the bank had to be some kind of blind spot, where nobody would see the enforcers coerce me into making this so-called arrangement. It was why they were so desperate for me to shut the door.
I raised my chin and gasped for air. “What kind of cowards trap a woman in the dark—”
“Stupid bitch.” The paler enforcer rushed through the shadows with his fist raised. “One word from us, and the Council will have you executed for harboring a criminal.”
Flinching, I tried to step back, but the shadow kept me rooted to the spot. The enforcer grabbed my chin and squeezed. Every instinct in my body urged me to slam a knee into his crotch but it would only land in his armor. Besides, he still had me restrained.
The shadows melted away, and the man in front of me stepped aside to let his partner point his wand at my heart.
“Empty your pockets,” he snarled. “Put the gold and anything else you withdrew on the floor. Fuck with us in any way, and you’ll wake up in Hell.”
My throat thickened. They didn’t care about catching Prince Draconius. They just wanted his money. Regret rolled around my chest like a boulder. If I had worn my usual habit, I would have a dozen ways to fight back. Right now, I would even welcome the heavy veil that sprayed pepper.
If I handed them the gold, they would either kill me or do something to make sure I’d never talk. It would be worse than being dead.
I gathered up a wad of my saliva and spat on the darker man’s face.
With a furious roar, he blasted me with a ball of red magic. I raised a hand to deflect it, but it burned through my glove and into my palm. Agony seared through my bones, filling my eyes with tears. I hissed through my clenched teeth, and searched in the dark for my wand.
Wind rushed behind me, pulling the door shut with a loud slam. I was trapped. Trapped with a pair of corrupt enforcers who weren’t afraid of hurling painful curses.
The paler man grinned and raised his hands, filling them with ropes made of shadow. “Attempted assault of an enforcer of the law? Tut-tut. Sister Iyana Torchbearer, you are under arrest—”
His arms flew to the walls, spattering them with blood.
