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a circle with my wings outstretched and dove toward the ancient vampire, daring him to hurl that trident. If it really was the artifact wielded by Poseidon, it might have the power to negate my fire magic. But once he threw the weapon, it would be out of his hands.

Prince Draconius pulled back his arm, and I flickered to the other side of the palace, landing by the trees. The trident flew through the air and landed in a pillar.

I charged at him from behind, this time without a war cry. He spun, ducked, and ran toward his trident, but a silver-haired vampire was already holding it aloft. It was one of Valentine’s brothers, Sylvester.

“What do you think?” He turned to his blond sibling. “Real or replica?”

“I say it’s a fake,” Constantine drawled.

Ferdinand stepped out from behind the line of guards. “I say we should test it on Uncle Dracs and see if he fills with water.”

“How dare you mock me when I mentored you ingrates,” Prince Draconius snarled.

The three brothers exchanged amused glances, and Ferdinand snorted. I clacked my beak. How typical of them to turn up after I’d tricked their uncle into losing his weapon. Not that I was complaining. If the trident really had been made by the same person who had created the Helm of Hades, we had another weapon we could use against Kresnik.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately, Dracs?” Sylvester stepped into his uncle’s personal space.

The two vampires were of an equal size, but Prince Draconius’s magic flared a little more powerfully than Sylvester’s. Fortunately, Constantine and Ferdinand stood at his side, providing backup.

A rumble sounded in the distance. I glanced to find King Beowulf riding toward us down the drive. He stopped behind the limousine but didn’t dismount, instead watching the spectacle playing out between the brothers and their uncle.

“That trident belongs to me,” Prince Draconius snarled.

“Then we’ll take it to pay for the property damage.” Sylvester bounced it on his hand. “Any funds left over from pawning this relic will of course be returned to you wherever you’re staying.”

“You cannot treat me with such disrespect.”

“You’ll find that we can, Uncle.” Sylvester said the word like an insult. “We tolerated you when this branch of our Royal House fell into disgrace after our father died, but Valentine is the only vampire in history who has been cured of preternaturalism.”

“Of all the beings in the Supernatural World, he has won the loyalty of the phoenix who will bring down Kresnik,” said Ferdinand.

If I had brows in this form, they would have drawn together at the prince’s words. Did he and his brothers think I had special powers that could work against Kresnik? I barely understood the ones I’d started to master, and Kresnik was as old as sin. I flew overhead in a circle, trying to look as menacing as I could without damaging any more property.

“Alright,” Prince Draconius said. “That fiery harlot can’t guard this palace forever. When I return, it will be on the authority of King Sargon de Akkadian himself.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Constantine stifled a yawn. “Valentine was struck off the family tree. Lamia is no longer associated with the Royal House.”

Prince Draconius stiffened. “What?”

Ferdinand chuckled. “It would seem that Grandfather didn’t deem you worthy enough to receive notice of your own expulsion.”

Valentine’s uncle glanced around at Caiman and the guards, stepping backward down the stairs toward the limousine. I’d once been in a position like that—disturbed, shocked, humiliated by such a brutal rejection that I’d been rendered speechless. My heart ached. Not for Prince Draconius, who deserved everything he’d gotten and worse, but for the time Valentine and I wasted while being torn apart by the machinations of Kresnik.

“This is not the last you’ll hear of me.”

“I sincerely hope not, Uncle,” said Ferdinand. “You’re much more fun as a disgraced outcast without allies.”

Constantine clapped him on the back.

Prince Draconius stalked toward the limousine, his hands balled into fists. As he opened its door, he turned to his nephews and snarled, “One day, Valentine will see you three for the resource-draining reprobates you are, and you will also be as destitute as I.”

Sylvester placed his hands on his brothers’ shoulders and walked down the steps. I perched atop the palace’s portico to watch the last section of the showdown.

“Leave Logris while you still hold a shred of dignity.”

Prince Draconius bared his teeth. “My ally on the Supernatural Council assures me that plans are in place to secure my rulership of Lamia. When that time comes, I will strip you and your useless brothers of everything, including that den of iniquity you call a nightclub.”

“Then we had better make sure you die before you get the chance.”

The older vampire raised a hand, the force of his magic throwing Sylvester up the stairs and into his brothers. I lifted my wings, rising toward the sky, not knowing if I should attack, or wait and see what would happen next.

Bolts of magic raced down the stairs, hitting Prince Draconius on the chest and arms and legs. Without waiting for his limousine, the ancient vampire sped down the driveway and out through the palace gates.

The limousine pulled out and followed.

I swooped down beside Beowulf and folded my wings across my back.

“Well, well, well.” The Shifter King’s gaze swept up and down my plumage with a leer that ruffled my feathers. “So that’s why King Valentine is so attached to you.”

I squawked at him to be quiet, raising my wing toward the storage compartment within the back seat.

“You want your cloak?”

I bobbed my head up and down.

The wind shifted, and Caiman stepped to the motorcycle’s side. “Allow me, Your Majesty.” The butler turned to the guards and vampire princes on the palace steps. “Please give Our Lady Phoenix privacy to revert back to her alternative form.”

Beowulf huffed, keeping his gaze to the handlebars, and the guards around the palace’s double doors turned without a word. The three vampire princes stood in a line with their

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