Passion of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 5) by Bella Klaus (best motivational books txt) 📗

The cat jumped on the kitchen table and yowled.

I raised my gaze, meeting his jewel-green eyes. “Didn’t you get enough to eat at Koffie?”

He shook his head, releasing a plaintive meow.

Istabelle bustled toward the kitchen. “We’d better fix that, then.”

I slumped back into my seat, watching Macavity roll onto his back and purr. That happy little reaction was a classic example of duping delight, a phenomenon I learned about on Youtube. It was a microexpression liars made to express their joy at having deceived someone. I kept my features even. Macavity’s domestic cat stomach could never hold enough food to satisfy his nutritional requirements as a leopard. It was probably why he was always so ravenous.

While Istabelle rifled through her refrigerator for scraps, I told her everything that had happened since the last time we’d met on the Saturday I had brought Kain to the store. Everything had gone wrong for us on Sunday, when my magic had flared, requiring Beatrice to go to the hospital in an ambulance.

“Have you ever heard of a person being able to separate themself?” I asked.

Istabelle stuck her head out of the refrigerator and frowned. “I’m not following.”

“When we stepped out of the taxi, a shadow wrapped around my leg and cursed me with something called a blood lure. It made my blood irresistible to vampires.”

Her mouth dropped open. “The papers said you killed King Valentine. One article suggested it was self-defense, but I thought it was a Supernatural Council cover-up.”

“They don’t want anyone knowing that there’s a curse that turns a person into vampire bait.” I brought the cup to my lips and took another sip, letting the flavors mingle on my tongue. By now, the passionflower had overwhelmed the lemon balm, bringing with it a touch of fruit.

Macavity meowed again and perched on the edge of the table, batting an arm in the direction of Istabelle’s back. I didn’t need to be a cat whisperer to know that he wanted me to stop distracting the old woman so she could fix him a snack.

Istabelle returned to the refrigerator, and I stared into my cup. Leaves and stalks and flower heads settled at its bottom, forming patterns of yellows and pale greens. My mind drifted back to the day Istabelle tried to warn me of a burgeoning power but I’d been too afraid to listen.

“Did you know about me all along?” I asked.

She didn’t speak for several moments, which was enough of a reply. Maybe she wanted to gather her thoughts or put together the right words. I swirled my tea, watching the sediment move about in the base of the cup. If I could read tea leaves, I might be able to see if Valentine and I would ever have a future now that Kresnik had arisen.

Macavity yowled, and the old woman emerged from behind the refrigerator with a heaping plate of cold meats. My eyes narrowed. That was far too much food to give a domestic cat. Istabelle must have known about him, too.

After setting it on the table, she stepped back to let Macavity set upon the food, and turned to me with her arms folded across her chest. “Did you know Napoleon Griffin once saved my life?”

I leaned forward, my mouth dropping open. “My grandfather?”

She inclined her head. “There’s a mine in Wales that contains gold with the most powerful healing qualities. I thought I could navigate the deadly walls protecting the precious metals and failed to account for the traps hidden with Cleopatra stone.”

“Oh.” I remembered Istabelle telling me about the alchemist-created substance that could also mask magic. “What happened?”

She walked around the table to the counter, where a transparent kettle hovered over the stove, containing the same dried herbs as were in my cup. “Tendrils of magic emerged from the cave’s walls and attacked, draining over half my life-force. I would have died if your grandfather hadn’t pulled me free with an enchanted dagger, but the experience doubled my age overnight.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Did you ever regain the missing life-force?”

“That would have meant petitioning the Coblynau clan and having to admit to those faeries that I’d been trying to steal their gold,” she said with a huff. “Napoleon took me back to his tent and nursed me to health. I was glad to escape with my life.”

“Why did you need faerie gold in the first place?” I asked.

“Foolish arrogance and the desire to create the ultimate healing amulet.” Istabelle took the kettle off the stove, brought it over to me, and topped up my cup with steaming tea. “You remind me of Napoleon a little,” she said with a smile. “It’s the expressive gray-blue eyes, and your desire to help others.”

My throat thickened. “So, you knew about me?”

She stepped back and placed the kettle on an iron trivet. “Napoleon contacted me when Aurora started showing signs of fire magic, asking if there was a way to remove her from Logris before anyone discovered her illegal power.”

I leaned forward, clutching the steaming cup with both hands, watching Istabelle reach into a cupboard and extract a terracotta bowl with a glazed lid.

“We kept her powers at bay with a firestone to soak up her magic, and Napoleon applied for her to study mythology at the University of Atlantis.” Istabelle set the lid aside and extracted four chocolate coconut macaroons from the tin. “Your mother ran away from home a month before her course was due to start, and nobody heard from her until you were left on the doorstep.”

All the bitterness from Kresnik’s cruel punishment of Aurora rose up my gullet and settled on my tongue. Someone from the Flame must have gotten to Aurora before Grandfather could send her away. Even when I tried washing it down with a long sip of hot tea, the resentment still remained.

Istabelle walked around the table with the plate of macaroons. “In answer to your question, I knew you also had the potential to become