Wicked Vampire Prince by Bella Klaus
Chapter Eighteen
Caliban’s eyes flashed a dangerous red, and before I could react, he closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the neck. I clenched my teeth and pushed enough magic in my new gloves to activate their protection, but the vampire only winced.
“Do you think I came here unprotected?” he snarled. “You’re weak as shit without those protective gadgets. When I’ve finished with you, all that will be left of you is a dry carcass.”
A scream tore from my lips, but he threw his head back and laughed. “Make all the noise you want. We’re the only people in this building.”
“Draco?” I cried into the bond. When he didn’t answer, I turned my attention back to the vampire, who now raised me two feet in the air. “My mate is coming.”
Caliban curled his lip. “Is he, now?”
“Yes,” I hissed. “He’s killed, and he’ll torture you if you don’t get the fuck out of here.”
“Then I’d better make sure he doesn’t find out what I’ve done with you.”
In the blink of an eye, we were whizzing through the building’s interior. My stomach lurched, and my surroundings became a blur. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to react, to throw my magic at the furious vampire and escape. But everyone knew it was dangerous to jump off a moving vehicle, and nothing moved faster than a vampire.
I clenched my teeth, bracing myself as the temperature changed from warm to boiling. The air thickened, becoming humid with a scent of mold and filling with ominous rumbles and gurgles. Caliban stopped in a boiler room the size of the suite, illuminated by a brass furnace that looked like it belonged in a crematorium.
“That’s better.” He set me onto an uneven floor. “Now, we can enjoy a more leisurely confrontation.”
My arms splayed out for balance, and I stared up at the grinning vampire. “I’ve just told my mate where you’ve taken me.”
“Mate?” Caliban’s laugh was rough. “Why would fate pair a frigid vampire hater with one of our kind?”
I stepped back, my pulse pounding hard enough to burst every blood vessel in my neck. “Believe what you want, but we have a mental connection. If you so much as touch me—”
“Stupid slut,” he snapped. “Nobody’s coming for you. Even if he did, I’ve moved you to another building on another street. By the time my tenant realizes you’re missing, you’ll be a smudge on the wall.”
Realization settled around my neck like a noose. With Draco still negotiating safe passage out of Logris in the black zone, I couldn’t rely on him to come to my rescue. I raised both palms, trying not to tremble, and asked in my most soothing voice, “Why are you doing this?”
“You humiliated me,” he snarled.
“I was trying to save my Mother Goddess. You and your friends came into the salon, talking like we were your snacks.”
He flashed his fangs and hissed. “What do you expect when you step into a blood salon?”
My lips formed a tight line. “I didn’t hurt you.”
“Do you know what they’re calling me now?” Without waiting for a reply, he snarled, “Fire crotch.”
I stepped back. “Look, I’m sorry, but it was the only way to stop you and your friends from attacking us while we were stuck in that building.”
“Bitch.” He rushed at me with a backhand across the face.
Pain exploded across my skull, and the impact of his blow had me flying across the basement. My back hit the wall with a clang, and I landed on my ass.
My head spun, and I blinked spots from my eyes before placing both hands on the wall and trying to pull myself up to standing. Bloody hell. The stupid vampire was serious.
“Caliban,” I said from between frantic breaths. “Don’t do this. King Valentine will execute—”
“Silence,” he roared.
My mouth clicked shut, and I stared up into the vampire’s glowing eyes. The light of the fire reflected in his pale features, and his hair shone like freshly spilled blood. I gulped over and over, my mind whirring for something, anything, to get me out of this shitty situation.
“I thought about strangling you with my bare hands,” he snarled from the other side of the room. “Squeezing the life from your scrawny body until your eyes bulged and your tongue turned black.”
Shallow breaths whistled in and out of my nostrils. I pushed my magic into my boots and waited for him to come within striking range.
“Have you thought this through?” I stumbled to my feet.
“What are you talking about?” he spat.
“If you strangle me to death and then burn my remains in that furnace over there, don’t you think someone will notice the scent?”
His gaze darted to the boiler, and he licked his lips. “I don’t care.”
“I heard that vampire prison is the worst place to spend the rest of your life,” I murmured. “The blood they give you is synthetic and has barely enough iron to keep a vampire strong.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
I exhaled a long, shuddering breath. Maybe if I continued along these lines, he’d think better of murdering me. “Caliban, those prisons are awful. Every time I rescue a dying Neutral from a blood salon, we take them to King Valentine, and one of his seers examines their memory.”
“So what?” he snarled.
“As soon as the mind mage discovers that the Neutral begged the vampires to stop draining them, he punishes them personally by extracting their fangs.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not planning on allowing you to live to tell the tale.”
“Don’t you think my mate will notice I’m gone?” I said. “Who’s the first person he’ll suspect? He’s powerful and influential.”
“You’re lying—”
“Does it matter?” I snapped. “I belong to that other vampire, and he’s not going to react well to finding out you’ve taken me.”
For the next few heartbeats, Caliban stared at me, his features blank. My gaze darted around the darkened space. Dim light streamed in from a door on the far left, but I had no chance of reaching it with a vampire capable of catching me in an instant.
I pressed my back against the wall and edged away from the furnace toward a stack of boxes in the corner. What did I know about this vampire apart from the fact that he was thin-skinned, impulsive, and a complete and utter idiot?
My throat spasmed, and I placed a hand on my chest to soothe my galloping heart. Caliban was immature, and couldn’t be very old. I doubted that he was even thirty, which meant he wasn’t yet capable of attacking from a distance.
“What are you really doing with that other vampire?” he asked.
“I already told you—”
“You can’t be mated with him.” He flashed his fangs.
“Why are you so interested?” I asked. “Are you worried about what he’ll do? Because when he returns and finds that I’m gone, he’ll smash through your lies with his superior magic.”
Caliban curled his lip and swaggered toward me with his fists raised. “Are you calling me an idiot?”
“Draco?” I said into the bond. “Draco, I’m in a basement somewhere in Lamia with your psycho landlord.”
“Answer me,” he roared, making me flinch.
“I’m only stating facts,” I said from between clenched teeth. “But we’re going round in circles. If you don’t make a move, I might die of boredom, and your so-called reckoning will turn to shit.”
“Bitch.” He rushed at me and grabbed me by the neck.
My stomach lurched. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth, and pushed my magic into my fingertips, activating the needles.
Caliban flinched. “What is this attack?”
“Let go of me, or I’ll turn you into a vampire pincushion.”
He chuckled. “Do you think a few pricks will get between me and my revenge?”
“Probably not,” I snarled.
“You nuns think you’re so pious, picketing our places of leisure as though your shit doesn’t stink.” Spittle flew from his lips as he yelled.
Tuning out his rant, I squeezed my eyes shut and focussed on the metal tabs within the gloves. If I could channel the electric shock I’d received from the day before, I could magnetize the metal and turn the needles into a deadly weapon.
“Answer me.” Caliban gave my neck a hard shake.
My eyes snapped open, and I met his livid red irises. “What do you want me to say?”
Caliban breathed hard through flared nostrils. “Take off your clothes.”
“Why?” I rasped.
“I’m thirsty, and I want to taste a nun.”
“So, you’re going to drink my blood before you kill me and burn my corpse?”
He flashed me a grin. “What can I say? Maybe then you’ll think twice about interfering in vampire business.”
“But I’ll be dead,” I snapped.
“That works for me.”
I needed to stop engaging with this dickhead and focus on drawing out this vampire’s source of power: the iron in his blood. By now, the needles would have burrowed into his skin, making contact with veins and capillaries, and hopefully an artery.
With an inward breath, I pulled my magic back into the glove.
Caliban jerked forward, his eyes wide. “What was that?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.
He slammed me against the wall. “You did something.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie.” Caliban backhanded me across the face, making me slam the back of my head against the wall.
An explosion of pain turned my vision white, and I was sure I’d cracked my skull. I couldn’t falter, couldn’t succumb to the agony. My enchantment was working, and I needed to double down on pulling this vampire’s power from his veins.
He staggered back, his movements tugging on the magical connection. “I don’t feel well.”
I stepped toward him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Caliban narrowed his eyes and stared down at me with a hatred that burned hotter than the furnace. “You’ve bewitched me.”
I pulled harder on the magic, making him fall to his knees with a groan. He placed both palms on the floor and panted like a dog.
“What’s happening?” he croaked.
“You should have left me alone,” I murmured.
His head dropped forward. “What have you done to me?”
I threaded my fingers into his red hair and yanked his head up so our gazes met. “Answer my questions, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
“What do you need to know?” he hissed.
“Did you call the enforcers?”
He blinked up at me, his features clouding with confusion. “Why would I report myself?”
I gave him a satisfied nod. He hadn’t worked out that this younger-looking version of Draco was the wanted man. And even if he was aware of my wanted posters, he hadn’t bothered to call the enforcers on a hunch that he had caught my scent.
“What were you planning on doing to me?”
“Nothing,” he blurted. “Just a little fright to teach you a lesson for setting my balls on fire.”
“It was an illusion,” I snapped.
“Yes,” he said, but the word came out more like a wheeze. “I realize that now. Please could you stop doing that?”
I raised my brows. “No.”
His mouth dropped open. “What?”
“The moment I release you, you’ll come after me.”
“That’s not true—”
“If you would murder me in a basement for making you look like a wanker in front of your friends, you’ll do worse for this.”
“But you haven’t even told me what you’ve done,” he rasped.
“Do you feel dizziness, fatigue, irregular heartbeats?” I asked. “Have your hands and feet turned cold?”
As he struggled on his hands and knees I stared down at him, feeling numb. If I hadn’t defended myself, this vampire would have battered me until I removed my hood and exposed my neck to his fangs. When I refused, I would die, but either way, he planned on killing me and disposing of my corpse in that furnace.
Caliban coughed out a mouthful of blood. “Is this a curse?”
“Those are the symptoms of anemia,” I said, my voice flat. “Every so-called blood cow who works in a salon feels one or more of those sensations every day.”
“What. The. Hell?”
“Headaches, shortness of breath, chest pain.”
“How are you doing this?” He stared up at me through wild eyes.
“Did you know you can turn any piece of metal into a magnet with enough of an electrical charge?”
“The needles?” he squeaked.
I nodded. “That’s part of it.”
His head flopped down, and the arms propping up his body collapsed so he now rested his weight on his elbows and forearms. “But why would a magnet affect me?”
“I’m drawing out the iron from your blood. What you’re feeling now is the torment you wanted to inflict on me. It’s how the victims of vampires feel when you overfeed.”
His breaths became ragged, and he raised his head, revealing the capillaries on the surface of his skin had turned dark. “How do you expect vampires to live without blood?”
“You only need a mouthful to be healthy, yet some of you guzzle it like soda,” I snarled, remembering every victim we had carried out on stretchers. Not all of them had survived, and there wasn’t a thing we could do to bring their murderers to justice.
“Don’t blame me,” Caliban whispered. “If the cows didn’t want to be bitten, they wouldn’t have worked in a blood salon.”
“Is that any reason to take advantage of their poverty?” I snapped.
Caliban’s breaths quickened, and even the blood vessels on his eyes darkened. I was taking too much iron from his body—the one nutrient vampires couldn’t extract from food. If I continued like this, would Caliban die or would he turn into a dried husk?
“Please.” His voice carried across the air like a ghost. “I’ll give you anything.”
I swallowed hard. Caliban was just saying that to stay alive. Just as I had pleaded a few moments ago when he had me at his mercy. The instant I stopped, he would come after me again.
“Make a blood oath,” I said. “You won’t report me or my mate to the enforcers, and you won’t come after either of us in this life or the next.”
“Never,” he snarled.
“You’re such a stupid bastard.” I sucked in a deep breath, pulling the magic connecting Caliban to my gloves like the strings of a marionette.
The large vampire rose a few inches off the floor, his features twisted in a rictus of pain. By now, his pale skin was a network of burst blood vessels, and the whites of his eyes had turned black.
“I’m going to die,” he croaked.
Ice encased my heart. It was the only thing keeping me sane right now, because if I thought about how I was draining Caliban the way vampires drained innocent Neutrals, I wasn’t sure if my mind would remain intact.
“None of this needed to happen,” I said, my voice sounding far away.
“Hypocrite,” he rasped.
“Maybe I am,” I murmured. “But you’ve given me no choice.”
Caliban let out a rattling breath that sent a shudder across my nerves. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to close my eyes, so I wouldn’t watch the vampire die. I ground my teeth and forced myself to stare into the depths of his soul. It was the least I could do, since I was condemning him to death.
My muscles stiffened, and my chest rose and fell with harsh breaths.
From this moment, I would be a murderer. No different from the vampires I despised.
This was taking too long. I needed to put him out of his misery. With a hard yank, I pulled the rest of the iron from his body, and released it in a spray of fine powder.
Caliban fell face-down on the floor with a heavy thud. I dropped to my knees, placed my hands on his neck, and felt for a pulse. He was warm and still, without a sign of life.
“Shit.”
I rose to my feet, hooked my hands beneath his armpits and dragged him to the other side of the basement, where a pile of boxes sat atop four shipping crates.
My arms strained, and the muscles of my stomach ached from the effort. Sweat gathered beneath my armpits, beaded on my brow, and streamed into my eyes. Disposing of a body would be a hundred times easier with the help of my mate.
“Draco,”I hissed into our bond.
There was still no reply.
“Bugger it.” I didn’t have the physical strength to place Caliban in a container. Nor did I have a wand or any other type of foci to raise him with magic. I placed the body beside the crates and covered him in cardboard boxes.
After wiping my hands on the fabric of my catsuit, I sprinted toward the exit without a backward glance. The door opened into a dimly lit stairwell with spiral steps that wound up toward another door twelve feet above where I stood.
I took the stairs two at a time, cursing myself for being so ruthless. In my panic, my mind had gone straight to the most lethal way to break free. I suppose this was what happened when all I’d read in my spare time were ways to defend myself in case the mate I’d ensorcelled with voodoo broke free from his curse.
The door led to a hallway of ivory walls, gray marble floors, and high ceilings with ornate cornices. Sunlight streamed in through arched windows that overlooked a pond within Richmond Park.
Outside, a family of red deer gathered at the waterside and dipped their heads for a drink. There was no time to marvel at the beautiful sight. Not when I’d killed a vampire. I tried every door until I found our suite.
“Draco?”I said in my mind. “Are you there?”
By now, I wasn’t expecting an answer. He was probably still haggling with the wardbreaker to get us out. If any of Caliban’s friends came looking for him and decided to search the basement, we were screwed.
The enforcers would catch Draco and hand him to the phoenix, they’d execute me for murder. And worst of all, since I was guilty of harboring a fugitive, the Council would punish every Sister in the temple.
I rushed to my trunk, yanked open the drawer and threw our purchases inside. Some of the boxes they came in were too large, so I had to tear them open.
The last of the packages was encased in brown paper, secured with red twine, and thrummed with a familiar magic. I untied the string and unfolded its wrapping to reveal a wooden box the size of a large pencil case.
Inside it lay an eight-inch-tall wax doll, complete with a chest cavity filled with blood and a full head of curly hair that was a miniature of mine. I tugged one of the strands, only to feel a burning ache on the side of my skull.
“Fuck.”
I pulled the doll from the box, revealing a printed photo from my Supernatural Media profile. It was the same one the enforcers had used for the wanted poster, with features still and my hair covered by a veil. A shudder ran down my spine, and the sensation of disgust spread across my ribcage before settling in my roiling gut.
This doll was controlling me.
I turned the box around and examined the inscription.
ENCHANTED BY VOODOO SORCELLERIE.
The voice of dissent that had sunk to the depths of my mind rose to the surface, and I stared at the smiling doll. While the one I had made of Draco had been pale, this one was brown to match my skin tone. Its features also mirrored mine, except for the face.
The doll was smiling. I, however, was not.
A sharp blade of betrayal sliced through my chest and embedded in my heart. I ground my teeth. This doll was the reason why I yearned for a vampire I was supposed to despise, the reason why I obeyed his commands, even though I disagreed with his every opinion.
Draco hadn’t put me to sleep last night to stop me from jumping on his dick while I was under the influence of his blood. His reasons were far less gentlemanly.
His Majesty, Prince Draconius the blood-sucking bastard, needed to take samples of my hair and blood so he could control my free will with a voodoo doll and smuggle me out of Logris.
