Wicked Vampire Prince by Bella Klaus

Chapter Thirteen

Iplaced my palms on the window and stared at the wanted poster displaying my face and the thousand-crown reward for information leading to my capture. The women at the bus stop also looked at the image long enough for one of them to miss her bus.

“Shit.” I pulled away from the window and paced the room. When I reached the nest of cushions, I kicked one to the side. My situation had gone from dire to deadly. The Supernatural Council never offered rewards unless a person had done something worthy of execution.

The collar of my neck tightened like a noose, and I tugged at my coif, which was now drenched in sweat. I had to get out of this cottage before Prince Draconius returned. He thought he was protecting me, but each encounter I had with him brought me into deeper levels of trouble.

I glanced around for something to help me escape, but I couldn’t think. Blood roared through my ears and palpitations boomed across my chest with a force that rattled my ribcage. There was nothing on the walls, nothing on the window, no curtains, no light fittings, nothing except for a stack of pillows Prince Draconius had purchased with money he’d borrowed under my account.

My gaze dropped to the half-empty bag of Dharma salt. Pink crystals spilled on the floor, giving me an idea.

We used Dharma salt for absorbing dark magic. If the imps had created the wards imprisoning me in this cottage, then maybe I could create a hole big enough to cry for help? If I took off the coif and veil and let my hair loose, nobody would even know that I was the wanted nun.

“Let’s do it.” I clapped my hands together, picked up the bag of salt, and brought it to the window.

Electricity crackled from its handle, indicating that this was where the imps had concentrated their magic. Since it was bonded to metal, I needed to attack the wards via another element, such as wood, which surrounded the glass.

“Fire melts metal, but wood feeds fire.”

I placed my fingers at the bottom of the frame and felt a much weaker fizzle of power. “Wood transforms to fire and weakens the binding of this spell.”

Pushing down my trepidation with a deep breath, I poured the salt at the furthest point of the frame from the handle, and stepped back.

Nothing happened. Not even a pop or the shimmer of air associated with pulling down wards.

“Maybe it needs actual fire.”

I left the empty room and walked toward the bath chamber. The door next to it led to a kitchen the size of my cell consisting of three walls of walnut units, black marble worktops, and a white butler sink. Daylight streamed in from a window that overlooked a narrow patch of land that backed into the exterior of small cottages stacked on top of each other.

On the left of the room stood a white cooker. “Please let it be working.”

When I reached the stove, I placed my finger on the ignition and infused it with magic. A few sparks spat out of the burner before receding back into its metal holes.

“One more,” I told myself.

On the second try, I pushed even more power into the stove, generating a flame the size of my fingernail. I reached out for it with my other hand, but it disappeared with a pop.

“Shit,” I hissed.

It was that spell I’d performed earlier. That and not having had breakfast in the morning, and all the excitement of trying to fight those enforcers. Prince Draconius had been right to say I didn’t have a natural affinity for healing. Even with his magic helping things along, I was too depleted to power a stove.

I shook off that thought. The longer I stayed in this cottage, the more the Supernatural Council would believe I was his accomplice, rather than his victim. I wasn’t sure how I would explain things when I eventually escaped, but this time, I wouldn’t hold secrets. It would tell Mother Hecate the extent of my problems and hope she would help me find a solution.

“Here goes nothing.” I squeezed my eyes shut, gathered all my strength and determination and desire to return to the temple, and pushed it into the stove.

Warmth fanned across my face, and light seeped through my closed eyelids. I parted them to find a flame the size of my hand. It was a deep orange, which meant it wouldn’t be so hot, but it was vibrant.

“Will you come with me?” I cupped my hands and brought them close to the burner.

The flame leaped into my palms, reducing in size by half.

I hurried out of the kitchen, through the small hallway, and back into the room that overlooked the street.

“Fire, melt the metal, loosen the wards, and let me cry for help.” Separating my cupped hands, I dropped the flames on the Dharma salt.

A fork of lightning surged from the handle, hitting me straight in the heart and spreading molten agony across my chest. The surge of power threw me backward. I cracked my head against the wall, and landed on my side with a thump.

Pain radiated through my skull, turning my vision white. For the next several seconds, I couldn’t do anything but lie twitching on the wooden floor. Most wards either kept people in or out or they made things invisible. These bloody wards not only fought back, but they were vicious.

I tried to raise my head, but it felt like every bone in my skull was in the process of shattering, so I remained on the floor, cursing the Fates for mating me with someone so diabolical.

Several minutes passed, and the pain showed no signs of subsiding. I cracked open an eye to find the fire still burning at the windowsill. It hadn’t grown any bigger since I had placed it on the salt, but as soon as I rested my palm on the floor and tried to rise, it shot out toward me like a whip.

“Shit.” I skittered backward, only for lightning bolts of pain to spread down my back. “What kind of confinement spell did he place on this house?”

My eyes pulled shut, and my breathing slowed. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, but it seemed to be getting worse.

“Yana?” Prince Draconius’ voice sliced through my drowsy state.

I parted my lips to moan.

“What in the name of Tartarus have you done?” he scooped me into his arms, but the movement made me hiss through my teeth.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

“The wards,” I slurred. “They attacked me.”

My eyes were shut, so I couldn’t see his expression. That didn’t mean I couldn’t feel the burning fury in his gaze. His muscles stiffened, presumably with disapproval that I had dared to attempt an escape.

“That was extremely foolish,” he said.

“The Council put a bounty on my head.”

He placed me down on the cushions. “And you thought you’d hand yourself over to their sweet mercy?”

I clenched my teeth. Even talking was too much of an effort, and what was the point when he couldn’t see my point of view?

“You’re hurt,” he said. “Tell me where.”

“Head.”

Prince Draconius slipped his fingers beneath the collar of my coat, but when he reached my outer veil, the fabric wouldn’t budge. “How do I take this off?”

“You don’t,” I said from between clenched teeth.

An annoyed growl sounded from a mere foot away and made my skin tighten and every fine hair on my body stand on end. I cracked open an eye to meet the red-eyed gaze of a furious vampire and promptly squeezed them shut.

“Yana,”he said into my head.

I stilled, trying to act like I hadn’t heard him.

“Stop denying our bond,”he snapped. “It exists, since you could access my vault.”

My throat spasmed, and I wrapped my arms around my middle and curled into a ball. If it wasn’t for the pain and hunger and magical exhaustion, I would fight this vampire with every method at my disposal.

“I hate you so much,” I snarled.

“Animosity is the sign of a passionate relationship,” he said. “In due course, I will reap the benefits.”

I squinted up at the vampire, wishing I could transfer all the pain I was suffering to his pompous ass. “Return me to the temple.”

He cradled the back of my neck. “Clearly, a concussion is addling your thoughts because a dozen enforcers will have scoured your so-called temple, looking for signs of your presence.”

“Great,” I muttered. “It’s bad enough that you’re ruining my life, now you have to mess up my Sisters’?”

“Let me see your wounds,” he said.

“I’d rather succumb to them than undress in front of you again.”

Prince Draconius growled, and I curled my hands into fists.

“Stop making those animal noises,” I snapped. “They’re hardly going to convince me to remove the last protective barrier I have between lying here unmolested and having you sink your fangs into my neck.”

He remained silent for long enough for me to wonder if he was working himself into a fury. With my chest on fire and a lightning storm of agony striking the inside of my head, I was past caring about the vampire’s feelings.

“It’s not just my fangs I want to sink into you,” he growled.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I wrapped my arms tighter around my middle. “How dare you make innuendos when I’m injured,” I said. “As soon as I recover—”

“Drink.” Prince Draconius brought the mouth of a bottle to my lips.

I tried to jerk backward, but an explosion of pain behind my eyes made my entire body stiffen. “What is it?”

“A general tonic to replenish your magic until we take you to a healer,” he said with a weary sigh.

“Is this healer of yours trustworthy?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” he replied.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere with you until I can fend for myself.” Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself up on my elbows. The edges of my vision darkened, but I pushed aside the sensation.

“You’re being foolish.”

“It’s your fault for installing wards that punished me for trying to escape.”

“You’re an intelligent witch,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “One who should have worked out that the wards’ punitive magic increased with each attempt, yet you continued the futile effort until it rendered you immobile.”

He was right, but what else could I do? Play nice, seduce him, and wait until he allowed me my freedom? That course of action would only get me bitten and addicted to thrall. Withdrawal had been bad enough when I had used the doll to cast him out of my life, but it would be four times as unbearable knowing he was close by and willing to give me another fix.

I lowered my lashes and stared into my lap. “Could I have the healing tonic?”

Prince Draconius raised a brow.

“Please?”

He brought the bottle back to my lips.

It tasted mostly of herbs and chalk, and the liquid poured down my mouth and throat like sludge. I swallowed mouthful after mouthful, letting the magic soak through the lining of my stomach and take the edge off my pain. When I’d emptied its contents, he placed the bottle into a bag.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

I tilted my head from side to side. “It no longer feels like someone’s drilling into the back of my skull, but my stomach—”

The muscles of my diaphragm spasmed, and I hurled the healing tonic onto the wooden floorboards.

Prince Draconius stepped back. “You need to see a healer.”

“What if they betray us to the Council?”

His growl filled the air with a sense of impending doom, and I skittered back into the cushions, feeling even worse than I had from the initial attack of the wards. My breath turned shallow, and sweat beaded on my brow. Perhaps the magic was still punishing me for my defiance.

“Look at me,”he said into my mind.

My gaze rose to meet his crimson eyes, which bore into my soul. The walls surrounding us tilted, but the rest of me remained slumped.

“What are you doing?” My words blended to form an incoherent moan.

“I don’t know what you did to the wards, but they seem to sense your intention to continue escaping.”

All the air left my lungs in an instant. “That’s what I thought.”

“You want to stay here with me,” he said with a push of magic.

“No,” I rasped.

“You are enraptured by my company,” he said into my mind. “You find me endlessly fascinating.”

“You’re a blood-sucking wanker,” I said.

“And you use insults to cover up a desire you struggle to deny.”

I tried shaking my head, but lightning bolts of pain erupted through my skull. “Stop this.”

“It’s the only way to end this torment.”

“Turn off the wards,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Then we’d both be left vulnerable to the Supernatural Council.”

Prince Draconius’ eyes filled my vision, a kaleidoscope of crimsons and scarlets set within teal irises. I tried to jerk my head away, but he placed a large hand on my cheek and held me steady. At the touch of his skin against mine, all the pain melted away, and the tension around my chest eased.

My eyelids fluttered. It was like floating on clouds, or being wrapped in a cocoon of healing and love.

“What are you doing to me?” I whispered.

As his pupils dilated, he brought a finger to his mouth and pricked it with a fang, releasing a bead of blood. “You want to taste me.”

I jerked out of his grasp, and pain exploded across my head. “No.”

He grabbed the side of my face again, his eyes boring into mine. “I have no idea what’s wrong, but if you can’t hold down a healing tonic then you need a trip to the hospital.”

Every butterfly in my stomach thrashed at its lining, making me groan. “I can’t go there—”

“This is why you’ll take my blood. It will heal whatever the wards did to your body.”

“Can’t we do that with your touch?” My voice trembled.

“Yana, you depleted your magic.”

I swallowed over and over, trying to think through my predicament. Damn this vampire for trapping me in a cottage and making me a wanted woman. Damn the imps for installing such dangerous wards. And damn myself for being so desperate to escape them.

Prince Draconius traced the moist tip of his finger over my bottom lip, sending tingles across my skin. “Do you know how much vampire blood would be worth on the black market?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Neither do I because we wouldn’t sell such a precious commodity.” His voice drifted through one ear and danced around my skull before reaching the other side. I couldn’t tell if he was speaking out loud or into my mind because my entire consciousness floated toward the depths of his pupils.

“No vampire would stand still for long enough to allow someone to bleed them. Our blood is that precious.”

“Is that why your kind feeds on others?” I asked.

“Your lips are dry,” he said.

My tongue darted out to moisten my lips, and they tasted like the red wine we drank at festivals—spicy, rich, and complex, with hints of chocolate and vanilla.

“How does it taste?” he asked in a voice like velvet, his bloody finger tracing the seam of my mouth.

Rapture flooded my senses. It was like getting a taste of liquid heaven and being offered an eternity of bliss. I parted my lips, and a drop of blood landed on my tongue. It soaked into my flesh, infusing me with the power I needed to push away the last vestiges of pain. The tightness around my head loosened, giving way to relief, and the charred mess that was my chest tingled with the first signs of healing.

“Suck me.”

My nipples tightened at his command, and I closed my mouth around his digit and ran the tip of my tongue back and forth against the pad of his finger.

He cradled me to his chest and groaned. “You are mine,” he said out loud. “Tell me who you belong to.”

An objection pushed to the front of my mind. The blood was healing my wounds, but accepting it didn’t mean I’d accepted him or our bond. I tried to pull away from the trickle of nectar lavishing my tongue, but my body wouldn’t move. Part of me knew this was the only way to restore my health and magic without ending up before an executioner.

“Yana?” he said.

I tried to pull my eyes shut, but they were locked in his gaze. His pupils were tunnels of black, ringed with the barest trace of crimson.

The part of me that feared vampires knew I was falling. Falling into the depths of his mind magic, falling under his control, and with no way of resisting now that I’d tasted his blood. It skittered to the deepest recesses of my mind and curled into a tight ball.

One day, the vampire would drop his guard, and the warrior in me would rise again.

“Yana,”his voice pierced my mind, skipping over the part of me I’d hidden. “Who is your master?”

“Prince Draconius,” I murmured into the bond.

“Draco.”He pulled his finger out of my mouth and said out loud, “Tell me.”

I gazed into eyes the color of cabernet sauvignon, set within a sculpted face of high cheekbones, a perfectly straight nose, and a strong chin. My hand rose to thread my fingers through his mahogany curls, which felt like the finest silk. Draco’s full lips parted to reveal white teeth with incisors that ended in sharp tips.

A happy sigh escaped my lungs. “My master is Draco.”

“Wonderful.” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Now, take off your veil. I wish to see more of my beautiful mate.”