Wicked Vampire Prince by Bella Klaus

Chapter Twelve

Istaggered back, clutching my injured hand to my chest and gaping at what was left of the enforcers. The arms of the one who had tried to arrest me now lay twitching at different ends of the darkened hallway, while the rest of him slid down the wall.

His dark-skinned companion was an unmoving lump in the shadows, but from the crack I’d heard earlier, it was safe to assume he was dead. A pair of red eyes shone through the dark, and out from the shadows stepped a hooded figure.

The magic rolling off his large body was like smoke, radiating a level of power and fury that would have made me fall to my knees if I hadn’t recognized it from the night before.

It was Prince Draconius.

Somehow, he had sensed my danger and had come to my rescue.

“What the fuck,” the pale enforcer said from his resting-place on the floor. “How can a nun be so powerful?”

“Look behind you,” I said.

Prince Draconius flicked a hand and raised the armless enforcer to eye level. “What were you doing to my mate?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said, his voice trembling. “She could have handed over the money, and we’d have left her alone.”

“Until you needed another infusion of cash?” I asked in a monotone.

“We could have avoided all this trouble if you weren’t so stubborn,” the man sobbed. “Now Gregory is dead.”

Prince Draconius hissed through his teeth. “There’s nothing I despise more than dishonest officers of the law and those who tamper with what’s mine.”

I wrapped the fingers of my good hand around my other wrist, trying to staunch the burning pain. We needed to get out of here before the next customer arrived, found Prince Draconius standing in the middle of the hallway, and reported him to the Council.

Before I could warn the prince, he said, “I was too hasty in punishing your companion, but you need to understand what happens to those who harm consorts of the Royal House of Sargon.”

My nostrils flared. I was an acolyte of the goddess, not anything related to a murderous vampire. The last thing I wanted was to enrage him before he’d retracted his fangs. “Your Highness,” I murmured. “We need to get out of here.”

“Draco.” He turned to me, his eyes still glowing a vibrant red. “Call me by my given name.”

I gulped. Red didn’t just indicate heightened emotions. It was also the color of bloodlust, and there was so much of it lying around. “Draco, could we please leave?”

His eyes softened. “Of course.”

With a twist of his fingers, he broke the remaining enforcer’s neck, leaving him hanging suspended in the air with his head lolling to the side. My stomach churned, and I doubled over, trying not to hurl its contents. This was carnage, and the vampire who had caused this had done it on my behalf. I didn’t know whether to fall down on my knees with gratitude or despair.

Prince Draconius strode toward me and lifted me off my feet. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s a curse,” I rasped. “With the right amount of chanting and Dharma salt, I should be able to cleanse the malevolent effects.”

He stepped away from the corpses and toward the exit. “As soon as the doors open, I will break into my highest speed. Put your head down, and none of the cameras will tell that it’s you I’m carrying.”

“It’s too late,” I murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think the Council will work out we’re connected when they find the bodies? The bank told them I’d come to withdraw your money, and that’s why the enforcers came.”

His mouth tightened into a thin line. “You’re worried about being a suspect in their deaths?”

I nodded. “They’re going to piece things together and know we’re working together.”

“Not if I remove the corpses myself.”

“You’d return there and risk getting captured?”

“If there’s a chance that doing so will save you from being implicated, I’ll have to take it.”

I relaxed in his arms and let him speed out through the arcade. He moved so fast that my system flooded with adrenaline. My stomach lurched, my heart rate spiked, and my eyes went from watery to dry. I squeezed them shut and clenched my teeth against the velocity, hoping nothing would rupture.

When Prince Draconius finally stopped moving, we stood in the empty room of a house that overlooked a road of small, terraced cottages with identical buildings stacked on top of their roofs to form four stories. A single-decker bus slowed and passed before stopping close by.

“We’re back in Striga,” I murmured.

He set me down on a wooden floor and held my shoulders steady while I reeled on my feet. “Nobody will search for you here. Tell me what you need to heal your wound.”

My gaze dropped down to my purpling fingers. Dozens of fine lines branched out from the dark patch, which zig-zagged down to my wrist and fingers. They split into smaller lines like the veins of a leaf, each pulsing with red grains of magic. I had no idea what this curse would do, but I could leach its power with the right ingredients and incantation.

“Get me two eggs,” I said in a monotone. “Make it four. A black crystal the size of my hand and a small sack of Dharma salt.”

Without another word, he sped out of the room, leaving me alone in the house. I walked to the door, which led to a hallway devoid of furniture with pale patches on the wall, which looked like they’d once held pictures. I continued toward the cottage’s front door to a stack of mail that lay in a messy pile on the welcome mat.

One of the letters at the top was an envelope addressed to Mera Griffin and the one beneath it was for a woman of the same last name called Arianna.

The names sounded familiar, but I was in far too much pain to recall why. After dropping the letters back to the floor, I walked back down the small hallway in search of a bathroom.

It was windowless, about twice the size of my wet room, and illuminated by a flickering wall lamp that was clearly in need of a new lightbulb. A four-foot-long copper tub sat at one end that required a small footstool to make up for its three-foot height.

I walked to a copper sink on the left of the room and turned on the tap with my good hand. Nothing happened for several seconds before brown liquid exploded from its spout, making me flinch.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Now I’m jumping at the sound of water.”

It was probably rusty, indicating that the owners of the house hadn’t paid their filtration bill and were now about to receive water directly from the human pipes that ran beneath Richmond Park. Any other time, I would shudder at the prospect of putting something so polluted onto my skin, but the curse burned so badly, and I’d run out of choices.

I placed my hand under the cool stream and chanted a series of incantations to dull the pain. The only thing that could counter a curse like this was a wand attuned to my magic, and the enforcer had torn it away with his shadows.

It took longer than usual to unbuckle my belt, shoulder off my coat and peel off my gloves. By the time I stood in my leggings and short tunic, a presence in the room made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“I brought the items,” said Prince Draconius.

“Did you get rid of the bodies?”

“More or less.” He strode toward me, carrying a small black bag, and frowned at my hand through the running water. “Your wound is getting worse.”

“That’s the nature of short-range curses hurled in anger.” I pulled my hand out of the water, only for the red grains of magic to rise to the surface of my skin.

He hissed. “Are you sure you can handle this on your own? Now that we have gold, I can take you to any number of healers—”

“And have one of them report you for the reward money?” I stuck my hand back under the water and winced.

“Tell me how to help.” He placed a hand on the small of my back, and the pain vanished.

My breath caught. I turned to meet his turquoise eyes. “How did you do that?”

Prince Draconius frowned. “What?”

“Your touch took away the pain.”

He removed his hand, and the agony returned, feeling like someone had injected my palm with acid.

“Touch me again,” I said.

He placed his fingers on my cheek. “Like this?” he said in a deep voice that curled around my senses.

My eyes fluttered shut, and I exhaled a long breath. “That’s perfect.”

“In that case.” He scooped me into his arms, making my heart flip-flop.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I can smell a cocktail of chemicals in that water. It will only make your situation worse.”

“But I need the water to heal the curse.”

“You’re already resonating with my regeneration speed,” he said as he carried me out of the bathroom. “If you can do that without practice, you can channel my power and accelerate your healing.”

Now that I was no longer entombed with a pair of dead and dying enforcers, part of me could relax and savor the strength of the Vampire Prince. Traces of magic wafted through my body, filling me with a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in ages. It was just like yesterday morning, when I had woken up from the most refreshing sleep of my life, curled around his body.

He stepped into the room that faced the road and the four-story buildings, where a small stack of mauve cushions lay by the wall adjacent to the window. I was so content from the absence of pain that I rested my head against his shoulder.

“I never got around to studying soulmate magic,” I murmured.

“What I know is thousands of years old and currently dwells in the recesses of my mind.” He placed me on the soft cushions. “However, a powerful and resourceful witch like you should be able to tap into my magic.”

Prince Draconius reached beneath the cushions and extracted a bag. “What do I do with the items you requested?”

I directed him to set the black crystal on the floor and surround it with the eggs. These would serve as recipients for the cursed magic I intended to expel. I rested the back of my hand on the crystal, uncurled my fingers, and met his eager gaze.

“Now, sprinkle the salt on my hand,” I said.

After tearing open a paper bag with a fang, he poured pink salt on my cursed palm. I directed him to place the eggs in the gaps between my fingers before moving aside.

There was a healing prayer we used in the hospice that helped with detoxification. While it was powerful, most new patients couldn’t withstand it because it stripped their bodies of thrall, leaving them with the symptoms of a painful withdrawal.

I chanted the words in Ancient Greek over and over until steam rose from the crystals, turning them a deep brown. Lightning bolt patterns appeared on the eggs, and the room filled with the acrid scent of burning hair.

Prince Draconius ran his thumb along my cheekbone. “Does that hurt?”

I shook my head. “Your touch is keeping away the pain.”

The eggshells turned black.

“Now, what?” he said.

“I need to perform a levitation spell to remove the salt and eggs without disturbing the skin.”

“Allow me.” The black salt crystals rose off my palm and formed a ball, leaving my skin red with a network of narrow blisters. “How would you like me to dispose of those?”

“The rubbish chute is fine, but I don’t think the owner of the house has paid their bills.”

He nodded, his lips turning down with distaste. “This hovel belonged to the family of that phoenix.”

I frowned. “Aren’t you afraid she’ll return?”

“Why would she want to when she has bewitched my nephews and taken the palace for a stronghold?”

Prince Draconius flicked his fingers and opened the window, letting in a gust of cool air. He floated the ball of contaminated salt along with the blackened eggs into his bag and added the black crystal when I raised my hand.

“More salt?” he asked, his tone gentle.

“Please.”

For the next few minutes, we repeated the process of extracting the curse into the salt until the skin of my palm reverted back to its usual state of health. By the time I finished, spots appeared before my eyes, and my stomach felt like it was digesting itself. I blinked over and over, trying to clear my vision. When that didn’t work, I pulled my hand away from Prince Draconius’ touch.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I just need something to eat,” I murmured. “Some kinds of magic wear me out.”

Prince Draconius stared into my eyes with an intensity that made my breaths still. It wasn’t the usual annoyance or even his aggressive attempts at flirtation. He looked at me with the kind of scrutiny I’d only ever seen from Mother Hecate.

“Has it occurred to you that your strengths might not lie in healing?” he asked.

The lining of my stomach rippled with the sensation of rioting butterflies. “I can perform just as well as the other Sisters.”

“But at what cost?”

“What do you mean?” I blurted.

“Why would the Fates mate you to a vampire when you fight so passionately against my kind?”

I clenched my teeth. “Why are you asking me? That’s a question you need to be asking them.”

His features tightened with disapproval. “You’re a talented and resourceful witch, yet healing magic depletes your power, and you don’t know what that means?”

“Stop using words to coax me away from my path.” I turned my head to the wall. “I’m committed to the light, and it won’t work.”

Prince Draconius exhaled a long, exasperated sigh and rose to his feet. “You cannot return to the temple.”

“Why not?” I asked from between clenched teeth.

“In time, someone will notice that those enforcers are missing, and more of them will investigate what they did today.”

My breath hitched. I couldn’t bear to look at the vampire because what he was saying made sense. “They’re going to link their disappearance to me?”

“Precisely.”

“I started today being suspected of harboring a fugitive, and now I’ll be wanted in association with their murder.”

His nostrils flared. “I killed them to protect you.”

“And whose fault was it that I was in that bank?” I snapped.

Crimson flecks flashed across his eyes, making my pulse quicken. He bared his teeth, the tips of his incisors lengthening into fangs. “Of all the ungrateful little wenches,” he snarled. “Do you know what corrupt enforcers do to beautiful little nuns?”

My breaths quickened, and I tightened my fists. How dare this arrogant prince call me ungrateful when he was the one who’d decided to abduct me. Twice.

“Without your criminal activity, I’d be living a productive life at the temple.”

He leaned forward, bringing his face so close to mine that my nostrils filled with his intoxicating scent. Warm notes of coffee and hazelnut mingled with cedar wood and leather, forming a heady combination that made my mind spin. The pulse between my legs quickened, and I squeezed my thighs together to muffle the sound. My body could react how it wanted to the Vampire Prince’s allure, but I would remain strong.

“You need to leave Logris tonight,” I said. “Because being associated with you is too dangerous.”

His eyes hardened, but he offered me a cold smile. “With the money you’ve withdrawn, I’ll be able to hire a vessel out of Logris.”

I reached for the phone in my coat, but the pockets were empty. “What did you do with my spellphone?”

“It’s at the bottom of the lake,” he said without inflection. “I won’t have the Council track you to this new location.”

Despair cascaded through my chest like an avalanche of jagged rocks. I pulled myself up to sit and felt around for my spare wand, only to remember that I wasn’t wearing my habit.

Prince Draconius raised a hand. “If you’re thinking of escaping while I’m gone, don’t bother. The imps have secured this location so that nobody may enter or leave it without my permission.”

“You ruined my life the first time you abducted me, now you’re destroying what’s left,” I hissed through my teeth.

He stared down at me for several heartbeats, his eyes turning a deep red. I raised my chin, daring him to call me ungrateful or claim that he’d saved my life. The corners of his lips tightened, and he finally said, “I’ll return with food, and if you behave yourself, I may permit you to use a burner phone.” He disappeared with a crack of sound.

My hands curled into fists. The moment the Supernatural Council worked out that those enforcers had been murdered while investigating my connection with Prince Draconius, I’d have an execution order on my head.

While Prince Draconius was out there finding someone to smuggle him from Logris, I would find a way out of this home.

I walked to the window, which he’d left open when he helped to heal my hand. I reached for the handle and tried to pull it down, but electricity zapped at my newly healed hand. “Ouch.” I snatched it away. “Bloody Hell.”

Outside, a line of witches waited at a bus stop two doors down from the cottage, and I slammed my hands on the glass and screamed at the top of my voice. “Help!”

The women didn’t so much as twitch. They were too busy watching an advert featuring a shirtless man drinking a new brand of water from a bottle.

“This is my prison.” My voice rose several octaves. “He’s going to keep me here until he secures a way out of Logris.”

I rushed out of the room, into the hallway, and to the front door. Wrapping my hand in the fabric of my coat, I reached for the doorknob, only for it to send a blast of painful magic to my fingers. Pain radiated up my arm, and I staggered back.

“Prince Draconius is a psycho.” I walked to the kitchen, looking for something, anything to fashion into a tool or a weapon or a means of escape.

Whoever cleared this house had done a thorough job. I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t bolted down.

With a long sigh, I trudged back to the room that overlooked the bus stop, and I stared out of the window.

The advert on the shelter faded away, revealing a wanted poster with my face and a reward for a thousand gold crowns.