Wicked Vampire Prince by Bella Klaus

Chapter Twenty

Istiffened in my seat, my eyes widening as King Valentine strolled into the examination room. He was about the same height and build as Draco, but there was an air of menace to the monarch that my mate lacked. I shook off that thought. Draco was certainly no mate of mine. The vampire was nothing except for a blood sucker addicted to kidnapping and controlling me.

“Sister Iyana Torchbearer?” he asked in a smooth voice.

“They told me to wait here for a healer.”

The corners of his lips tightened. If he was anyone other than the Vampire King, I would have interpreted that expression as awkwardness with a touch of guilt. But his kind didn’t feel such emotions—he was most likely annoyed that I hadn’t answered his question.

King Valentine lowered himself into the seat beside the cot and placed his hands on his muscular thighs. I relaxed a little, even though the distance between us meant nothing to a creature who could move before I could even blink.

“I heard from Lerna Bank that my uncle mated with a Sister from the Temple of Light. Are you Iyana Torchbearer?”

“That’s me,” I rasped.

“Hecate also showed me the voodoo doll and said you were in need of help.”

Gulping, I tore my gaze away from his face. Of all the people she could call, why was it the very man who would execute me for harboring a fugitive?

“Miss Torchbearer,” he said, sounding like a wolf dressed like a less dangerous wolf. “My uncle is a very dangerous vampire.”

“He told me you were under the control of a dangerous phoenix,” I blurted.

The silence that followed filled the room with an atmosphere so thick that it pushed down on my lungs. I forced my gaze from my lap and trailed it up the Vampire King’s athletic form.

He even dressed the same as Draco. King Valentine’s suit was as blue as the midnight sky, which he wore with an indigo shirt buttoned to the collar. Even if they hadn’t shared similar features, it was clear that Draco and the king had once been close.

When I reached his face, the fury in his eyes turned my blood to sludge. Apparently, I had touched on a sore point. Without meaning to, I shrank in my seat, but I still managed to hold his gaze.

“What did he tell you about Mera?” he asked, his words measured.

My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. “Only that she murdered you, raised your corpse and did unspeakable things to it.”

His brows raised in a silent prompt to continue speaking.

I gulped. There was no way I would talk to someone so regal about necrophilia. “When she finished with you, she burned Draco and scattered his ashes before bringing you back to life with her flames.”

“Draco?” he said, his voice flat, his head tilted to the side with incredulity.

“You don’t expect me to call him His Highness or Prince Draconius?” I said from between clenched teeth.

“Where is he hiding?” he asked.

I clamped my mouth shut.

The vampire’s eyes flashed. “Sister Torchbearer—”

“Are you going to sacrifice his soul to Tartarus?” I asked.

King Valentine went still. “Is that what my uncle told you?”

I nodded.

He leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. “You should understand that Prince Draconius is extremely dangerous and isn't capable of love. Associating with him will only result in sharing his punishment.”

My spine stiffened. King Valentine hadn’t answered a single one of my questions, yet he’d extracted information from me and managed to imply that abandoning Draco was the only way I might save my neck from the executioner’s blade.

An ache formed in my heart, and I pressed the heel of my hand into my breastbone. What the bloody hell was I doing, feeling anything for the vampire who tried to steal my free will and traffic me out of Logris? He needed sanctioning, not sympathy.

“Can you divulge his location?” he asked.

I nodded again.

“Where is my uncle hiding?”

My lips parted, but the words stuck in my throat. I placed a hand over my mouth. If King Valentine threw Draco’s soul into Tartarus, surely mine would follow?

I cleared my throat. “How can you expect me to condemn Draco, when we share the same soul?”

His eyes softened, and the corners of his lips lifted into a smile he probably thought was sympathetic. “I’m aware of that.”

“Then why do you keep asking me these questions?”

“I have a healer who can break bonds.”

A sharp breath whistled through my teeth. “Does it hurt?”

“According to reliable sources, the severing of a soul bond only prickles,” he replied. “If you can help me capture my uncle, I will arrange for your separation before his punishment.”

I dropped my gaze back to my hands. Could I do this to Draco? My mind drifted back to the day we first met—not on the street outside Salon Sinn. Years before then, when his minion abducted me from the ambulance and shoved me into a boudoir.

Draco had been an unfeeling monster who hadn’t listened to a word I’d said. He had broken through my protective contact lenses, taken control of my mind and injected me with enough thrall to make me crave his bite for months.

I’d only gotten free from him by stooping to the darkest magic, something that he’d later used against me when he got the chance.

“Surely you don’t want to spend the rest of your existence under the control of a creature as ruthless as my uncle?” King Valentine asked.

My teeth scraped at my bottom lip. “Of course not.”

“Why are you hesitating?”

I shook my head.

Draco would have snarled or hissed at me to speak up, but King Valentine held his silence. When I wasn’t disparaging his phoenix, the younger vampire seemed kinder and more patient than the average vampire. I rubbed the base of my throat, trying to work through my reservations.

“He won’t stop coming after you,” he said.

“I know,” I whispered.

“Uncle Draconius imprisoned my nephew, tried to abduct my fiancée, and sent assassins to me at my most vulnerable,” King Valentine murmured. “Any politeness or charm or affection he displayed to you was a façade.”

My throat tightened. I knew all of this because the monster I met that first time had been the real Prince Draconius.

“But I don’t trust any vampires, so why should I place my faith in you?”

His chuckle made my head snap up, and I met his violet eyes, which sparkled with mirth.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Uncle Draconius is the quintessential vampire,” he said. “He’s ruthless, deadly, efficient, and he won’t stop until he gets what he desires.”

“He said the same thing about your phoenix, yet you’ve carefully avoided answering any questions about her.”

The amusement in his eyes faded, and he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his spread thighs. It was an almost human gesture, but nothing about the creature watching me said that he was anything but a predator.

“Mera Griffin is my fiancée, and she single-handedly defeated the most dangerous threat to the Supernatural World,” he said, his voice tight. “She did this while Uncle Draconius plotted to tear her soul from her mortal body and keep her as his pet.”

My lips tightened. “Why would he do something like that?”

“Because she’s the only phoenix in existence.” King Valentine straightened. “A rare and sought-after creature that men as powerful as he would want to possess. My uncle only saw her as a means to expand his influence and wealth.”

My mind drifted back to the safe containing enough wealth to sustain a city as large as Logris. What if that massive gold tortoise had once been a living creature? My first encounter with Draco had proven him capable of treating living beings as objects.

“Sister Torchbearer, what is your decision?” asked the king.

“I want to be free of him,” I said. “But I need assurances.”

King Valentine nodded. “Name them.”

“First, I want a pardon for all crimes I may or may not have committed while associated with my mate.”

His brows drew together. “The Supernatural Council will understand you were working under his influence.”

“No.” I rose from my seat. “I want a written pardon that extends to all the Sisters of the temple and any known or unknown blood relatives.”

The Vampire King stood but didn’t move from his spot.

I placed a hand over my chest and forced my breaths to remain calm. “If Draco really committed all those crimes against the Supernatural Council, then you’ll give me that pardon.”

His nostrils flared, and he pressed his lips together in a firm line.

I raised my chin and tried not to gulp. If I revealed Draco’s location, then it would only be a matter of time before the enforcers found where I hid Caliban’s body.

The prime suspect would be me. Caliban’s friends would remember me from the time I set his crotch alight, and the greasy manager of Salon Sinn would back them up in court. Only a witch or a metal mage was capable of removing the iron from a vampire’s blood.

It didn’t matter that Caliban had attacked me and wanted me dead, vampires took care of their own. Nobody would care that I killed Caliban in self-defense.

“Where is Prince Draconius hiding?” King Valentine asked in a voice of steel.

My muscles stiffened, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. As frightening as this Vampire King appeared, Mother Hecate wouldn’t have called him if he was truly dangerous.

“I’ll tell you everything when I get a pardon,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

He exhaled an exasperated breath. “If it comes to it, I swear to advocate on your behalf in court.”

I shook my head. “I need the pardon in writing, signed by all seven monarchs of the Supernatural Council.”

King Valentine stepped toward me, his eyes narrowing. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re hiding something, Sister Torchbearer.”

My heart beat hard enough to rattle my bones. He had to know by now that my soul was as tarnished as his uncle’s. Why else would we be fated mates? I forced myself to sit straighter in my seat, and I met his violet eyes with a glower.

“After everything I experienced at the hands of your uncle, after everything that scoundrel made me do, could you blame me for being cautious?”

His chin dropped to his chest, and his gaze fell away from mine. He almost looked ashamed. “Do not leave this room until I return with the pardon.”

“Fine.” I relaxed back into my chair.

King Valentine opened the door and stepped out, revealing a hallway filled with people in charcoal gray armor a few shades paler than the enforcers’ black.

I rushed out of my seat. “Who are these people?”

He spared me a glance over his shoulder, still not looking me in the eye. “Hired mercenaries who will keep you safe while I get those signatures.”

“Safe from who?”

King Valentine continued through the cordon of mercenaries, and a quartet of women stepped forward, blocking my view of him. The tallest of them placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me back into what was beginning to look like my temporary prison.

“Take a seat, Sister,” said their leader, a pale woman about the same age as me with vivid blue eyes with flecks of neon.

I folded my arms across my chest. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

One of her companions closed the door, sealing me in the room with a pop of magic.

“I’m Sergeant Cinder, and here’s how it’s going to work,” she said. “We’re going to keep you safe until you help our client track down his uncle.”

I tilted my head. “Say what you want but nothing’s happening until King Valentine holds up his end of the bargain.”

A loud bang sounded from the other side of the door, making all five of us jump. I clapped a hand over my chest and gasped.

“What’s happening?”

The tall woman tilted her head to the side, her eyes turned upward as though she was listening to a voice in her head. “Enforcers from the Supernatural Council arrived to make an inspection. The goddess tried to keep them out, but they’re pushing through.”

One of the other women turned to me with a scowl. “Now, will you take a seat and let us protect you?”

I stepped back, my legs trembling. “Why would King Valentine send enforcers—”

“It’s the Witch Queen,” said the tall woman. “She’s trying to break in.”

My entire posture sagged, and I staggered back to my seat and placed my head in my hands. “They can’t catch me here, or she’ll execute Mother Hecate,” I said with a moan. “At least not until I get that pardon.”

She gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Mortem Mercenaries will protect you.”

“Mortem?” I shuddered. “You sound like a bunch of undertakers.”

The banging and crashing continued, making me flinch with every sound. How on earth were the patients coping with the battle, and what about my Sisters?

Sergeant Cinder tilted her head to the side. “The enforcers have sent an envoy. Do you know a cadet called Willa? She says you’re friends.”

I placed a hand over my chest. The last Willa had seen of me, I’d been acting erratically, and now I had a wanted poster. My heart yearned to reach out and tell her I was safe, but they were probably using her as a means to lure me out.

My gaze dropped to the floor. The Witch Queen was itching for a way to bring down Mother.

“If I answered that question, then the enforcers would know I was here for sure,” I said from between clenched teeth.

The sergeant threw her head back and laughed. “You’re no ordinary nun.”

“Apparently not.” I folded my arms across my chest.

The firing stopped, and silence spread across the room. I glanced from Sergeant Cinder to the rest of her companions, waiting to see if their colleagues on the other side of the door had updated them on the latest events.

When none of them spoke, I asked, “What’s happening?”

“The enforcers are retreating,” she said.

“Do you know why?”

She shook her head.

I leaned back in my seat and blew out a breath of relief. Perhaps Valentine had convinced the Witch Queen to sign my pardon?

A knock sounded on the door, and a high priestess wearing a white habit stepped in, her lips pursed with disapproval. It was Sister Alus, the temple’s dour-faced Head of Healing Arts. “Mother Hecate would like me to check you for injuries.”

“Thanks.” I rose from the seat and moved to the cot, having sat through enough of these procedures to know where the healer would want me to sit.

The mercenaries all shifted to the other side of the room to give Sister Alus space, and she stepped in front of me and raised two wands. White magic streamed down from their points, creating an arc that stretched down to the floor to create a sphere.

“Periorbital hematoma,” she murmured. “A hairline fracture of the skull, multiple contusions and soft tissue injuries to the back and limbs and temples, and elevated adrenaline levels. Your hymen is still intact, despite a marked rise in estrogen and oxytocin, which correlates with sexual activity or arousal.”

The women at the wall snickered.

I cringed in my seat and shot Sister Alus my filthiest glower. When the mercenaries continued to laugh, I snarled, “You should know that the Temple of Light’s guiding principle is chastity.”

“And so is charity,” Sister Alus muttered.

“I’d like to see you remain chaste after being abducted by a vampire and swallowing his blood,” I snapped.

Sister Alus’ light flared, changing from white to pink, and became so bright I couldn’t see her reaction. Healing magic penetrated my skin and raced toward the aches and pains from my encounter with Caliban. My bruises tingled with the sensation of pins and needles before the feelings faded to a sense of wholeness.

The bubble popped, and the healer lowered her wands. “You should have reported that vampire bite earlier,” she said, her voice gruff, the disapproval in her eyes giving way to compassion. “Then you wouldn’t have had to suffer in silence through your withdrawal.”

I gave her a tight smile. “At the time, I didn’t know who to trust.”

She nodded and stepped out of the room.

It took another hour for King Valentine to return with a document containing seven signatures, and a vampire lawyer who assured me that it was worded to protect me, Mother Hecate, the Sisters of the Temple of Light, and all my blood relatives from any crimes committed in association with Draco.

The Vampire King turned to Sergeant Cinder. “Is your communication device broadcasting me to all your operatives?”

Her brows drew together. “It is now. Go ahead, sir.”

“I want everyone to exercise caution as they approach Prince Draconius. Despite his appearance, he is ancient, experienced, and potentially one of the most powerful vampires in the Supernatural World.”

“Are there any abilities we need to be concerned about?” the sergeant asked.

“The usual with vampire ancients—strength, speed, agility, mind control. My uncle is particularly talented in astral projection, but I doubt that he will use it to escape his body if surrounded.” King Valentine turned to me. “Sister Torchbearer, please divulge his location.”

“He’s still in the black zone,” I said.

King Valentine raised his brows. “How do you know this?”

“Draco can speak into my mind,” I said. “He would have contacted me the moment he stepped out.”

“When will he exit?” the Vampire King asked. “Which portals is he using?”

I raised my palms and shook my head from side to side. “Until he abducted me, I had no idea that such a place even existed. He just left me in a suite in Lamia.”

King Valentine’s features tightened. Probably because his fugitive uncle was hiding so close to the palace. In the end, we agreed that I would return to the suite, and Valentine’s team would follow close behind and wait for Draco to arrive.

He stepped out of the room to allow the mercenaries to fit me with trackers. Sergeant Cinder pulled on my earlobe. “Don’t you have any piercings?”

I shook my head.

“Stick one up her twat,” said one of the women.

I stepped back. “No way.”

The sergeant rolled her eyes and clipped a cuff on my ear. “Take no notice of her.”

I pulled out the cuff. “If I’m not wearing a veil, Draco will notice something like that in an instant and get suspicious.”

She swept her gaze up and down my form. “Then we need to pierce something. Prince Draconius could rip off your clothes and toss them on a passing car.”

A growl reverberated in the back of my throat. What kind of mercenaries didn’t know how to disable a vampire? I shoved past the woman and walked to the corner, where two small cabinets hung on the wall.

“There’s a way to capture him that doesn’t involve mutilating anyone’s body,” I said.

“What are you doing?” the sergeant asked.

I opened the door and extracted a small box containing little red pills. “Taking enough bloodbane to fell a vampire. As soon as he steps through the door, I’ll get him to bite me, then you can come in and drag his unconscious carcass to jail.”

An Überwald ride later, I returned to Caliban’s mansion. The sun had set, and tall streetlights illuminated a tree-lined road that now smelled of wet leaves.

The red brick building looked imposing in artificial light that didn’t quite reach its upper floors. Suppressing a shudder, I ascended the stone steps, feeling the eyes of every mercenary and enforcer who had surrounded the building in anticipation of Draco’s arrival.

King Valentine had been concerned that I was willing to let Draco bite me, but had overall approved of my plan to weaken him. At least that would make his arrest less bloody.

I pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway. The lights were off, but moonlight streamed in through the windows, making the marble tiles glow silver. Whoever was in charge of tweaking the wards of Logris had overdone the metallic tint. I shook off that thought and focused on my mission.

Inside our suite, the faint scent of cheese and herbs hung in the air from my breakfast. I strode toward the coffee table that contained the trunks. Everything lay untouched, with the catsuit still on the floor where I’d left it.

“Draco?”I asked into our bond.

He didn’t reply, and I rubbed the back of my neck and frowned. Surely it didn’t take that long to negotiate a few tickets out of Logris?

“Yana,” said a deep voice from behind.

Adrenaline exploded through my system, making my heart spring to action. I spun around to find Draco standing in the doorway, still dressed in his black suit.

“Don’t frighten me like that.” I placed a hand on my chest.

He stalked toward me with the grace of a panther, his turquoise eyes glinting in the semi-darkness. “Where have you been?”

“I—”

“Why do you smell of another vampire?” he hissed.

My eyes widened. King Valentine hadn’t even touched me. “Draco, I can explain—”

He placed a finger on my lips. “Be careful how you answer that question. Your blood pressure, heart rate, and micro expressions make you as easy to read as Ancient Greek, and I will not tolerate any lies.”