Thrall of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 4) by Bella Klaus (namjoon book recommendations txt) 📗

man whose pulse I hadn’t been able to feel. The center of his chest was all ash but the rest of his body appeared untouched. The blazing sword had now reduced to the size of a dagger.

I choked on thin air. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

Kresnik turned his head and met my gaze with irises that blazed paler than the hottest flame. Gone was the iridescent mother of pearl, replaced by an anger that threatened to burn me from the inside out. He stood with his legs far apart, his arms folded across a broad chest. His white shirt lay open, revealing bronzed skin that glowed with his inner light.

All the moisture left my throat. I didn’t need mind powers to know what he was thinking. His phoenix powers were too weak to burn a man’s body, when days ago, he had resurrected Brother David and numerous other dead warriors.

My throat dried. What if a phoenix had to rest between burnings to replenish its power? What if that kind of magic wasn’t supposed to be used to raise the dead or near dying? The answers were endless, but only one of those made any sense.

That sound healing session had weakened the connection between Kresnik and me. It was why I was able to produce sparks earlier today when I’d been annoyed by Hades. It was also why Hades had implored me not to speak about the return of my magic.

The accusation in Kresnik’s eyes made my stomach plummet, and I resisted the urge to run. It was safer here with Valentine, who at least wanted to keep me alive.

“Bring out General Sargon’s blood,” Kresnik said, his gaze burning the side of my face.

“What for?” Healer Calla’s voice echoed on the edge of my consciousness.

“Just do it,” he replied. “It’s time to start building our preternatural army.”

Cold shock filled my stomach and spread through my insides like a storm. Kresnik had sent all those magicless people out so he could blame the Supernatural Council for their injuries and play the hero by bringing them back with phoenix flames.

When that didn’t work, he would order Healer Calla to turn them into preternaturals.

He could scowl at me all he wanted. Now that my power was returning to me, I wouldn’t give it back.

Chapter Nine

I broke eye contact with Kresnik first. Mostly because the power radiating off the man felt like standing in front of a leaky microwave, and partially because this wasn’t a staring contest. At my current magical level, I was in no position to challenge anyone, let alone a Lord of Light.

The infirmary’s white walls closed in on us, reducing my surroundings to just Kresnik and me with a hint of Valentine’s magic in the background. Palpitations echoed across my ribcage, and my skin crawled with the residual disgust from his continual stare. This wasn’t the time to attract any more of his attention, and I didn’t want him to suspect that my power might be drifting back to me.

Inhaling a deep breath, I focussed on surviving the next few minutes. Right now, I needed to keep my head down, work from the shadows and identify a way to free Valentine from his influence.

Healer Calla rose to her feet and bustled around her counter, presumably to fetch the vampire blood. I glanced at Valentine, who stood between Kresnik and me, his features held in a neutral mask. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling.

When we stayed together in the penthouse, Valentine hadn’t felt the need to turn others into preternaturals. Then after I’d uncovered his stash of human males, he’d stopped drinking from the vein. Now they were turning people without his consent. If Valentine was in his right mind, he would be upset.

At the very end of the infirmary, Coral clutched at her belly, looking like she was going to hurl the contents of her stomach over the injured fire users.

A door opened with a hiss, and cold air swirled from across the counter, making my skin tighten. I couldn’t look down at the people Kresnik had sent out to Logris to get injured. They’d already been betrayed—three times. Once, when Kresnik had brought them into existence as vessels of magic. Again, when his people helped them harness those powers only for Kresnik to steal them away. The latest betrayal was the mission that nearly got them all killed.

And now their souls would be trapped in preternatural bodies?

My pulse fluttered in my throat like a pair of tiny fists hammering through my insides. Blood roared through my ears, screaming at me not to stand there like a coward while these people got violated for a fourth time.

Healer Calla emerged from behind the counter, holding a bottle of blood and a syringe. The old woman stuck the needle in the bottle’s metallic top and pulled out the plunger to fill the barrel with dark red liquid.

A scream caught in the back of my throat. The urge to scream at her to stop swelled through my insides and pushed against my lungs, my heart, my diaphragm. It closed down on my throat, choking me with guilt and cowardice and rage until the words tumbled out of my mouth.

“Just heal them!” I yelled.

Everybody in the room stiffened, including me.

Kresnik stepped closer, placing himself between Valentine and me, seeming to expand with each passing second. Light reflecting off his white shirt and pants shone bright enough to burn my retinas.

Anxiety rippled up and down my spine, settling in my fluttering heart. Even though Valentine hadn’t moved, his muscles tensed the way Macavity’s might when he was waiting for the right moment to strike. Smoky magic wrapped around my body like a cocoon. It was both protective and a warning that I should be careful of what I said next.

Kresnik steepled long fingers in front of his chest, their ends shining with hints of pale fire. Thick muscles bulged from his white shirt, making his physique appear inhumanly large.

Shallow