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

my legs out of bed, knocking aside a Bengal-sized Macavity, who yowled a complaint. How much did I want to bet that Kresnik had sent Valentine to a far-away prison to abduct new recruits for his preternatural army? With no vampire general growling because his toy was under threat, Kresnik would know for sure if I had taken back my power.

Martika glanced down at the cat and smiled before waving goodbye and stepping away from the door.

“Hey,” I said to her retreating back.

She returned to the doorway, remaining beyond the ward. “What’s up?”

“Do you have fire magic?” I asked.

“I’m a manticore shifter.” She turned around, and a scorpion tail emerged from beneath her miniskirt, its stinger glowing with fire. “Why?”

“Just wondering. Wait for me?” I rushed into the dressing room, tore off my nightgown, shimmied on a pair of jeans, and flung on a shirt. After shouldering on my reaper cloak, I stepped out into the hall.

Tiny footsteps padded after me, but I turned and shooed Macavity away. If Kresnik decided to attack, the cat would transform and try to protect me. I couldn’t let that happen. Poor Macavity hadn’t fared well against Jonathan, even though I believed he might win a second round. But even a hellcat couldn’t face down a being with the combined power of dozens of people who could also transform into a dragon.

Martika shot the portraits admiring glances and placed a hand over her heart as though she and Kresnik had spent a lot of time together. I kept my gaze on the wooden floor, not daring to pry in case she told the Light Lord.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I glanced toward the room, finding Macavity standing in the middle of the hallway seeming like he was trying to decide between his instinct to protect me and obeying my order.

“I’ll be back soon with something tasty.” I gave him a cheerful wave.

“Aw, is that your cat?” Martika asked.

“Isn’t he cute?” I said with a broad smile. “He must have followed us in when we left the wards.”

Martika continued down the iron-and-marble staircase. “I’m more of a dog person myself.”

As we descended toward the turquoise downstairs, Martika told me that she came from a pride of lion shifters and had been the odd one out since birth. My eyes narrowed, and I thought about Petra, the little girl we had retrieved from Logris, who was the only redhead among a family of dark-skinned people with black hair.

“What exactly is a manticore?” I asked.

“They’re not supposed to exist, but when I first shifted, my head remained human-shaped, with a lion’s body and a scorpion tail. And my fur was red.”

I leaned back, trying to catch another glimpse of the appendage, but she must have put it away. “So there were no fire users or mythical shifters in your family?”

“None.” She shook her head and laughed. “I can’t tell you what it was like to finally live in peace.”

“What do you mean?”

As we continued through the hallway and toward the basement steps, Martika curled her fingers around red hair the exact same shade as mine. “My dad used to come home drunk, bellowing at my mum for fathering the child of another shifter.” She shook her head. “None of the other women in the pride could stop him once he got started. Was that how it happened with you?”

I blew out a long breath, relieved at my relatively peaceful life with Aunt Arianna. “I didn’t discover what I was until recently. By then, I’d already moved out of Logris and had a life in London.”

“Our Lord says the gift skips generations and that my great-great-a-hundred-times-grandparent must have been a manticore,” she said with a smile.

“Really?” I tried to keep my voice neutral.

Martika opened the stairwell door, and we continued down the concrete steps in silence. If Kresnik could combine himself with Father Jude to produce me with Aurora and had fathered children to mothers outside the Flame, the probability that he or some combination of him and some other sycophant had fathered Martika was looking dismally high. Especially when factoring in that Martika wasn’t just a regular fire user who could make flames—she was special, just like my team members.

As we reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped through the wards, she gave me a gentle nudge on the side.

“What’s it like with a vampire?”

“What’s it like with a Light Lord?” I shook my head. Actually, I didn’t want to know. Before she could answer, I said, “Valentine was my first, so I don’t have anything to compare him against.”

We continued through the white hallway, where a few of the people walking toward us slowed to stare at us, and my gaze darted to Martika, who preened at the attention.

“I’m Our Lord’s second-in-command.”

“Nice,” I said, my stomach tightening.

What else could I say in a situation like this without getting us both in trouble with Kresnik? I doubted that Martika would be so keen on his attentions if there was a hint they might be related. I ran a hand through my hair. It wasn’t like I knew for sure. I could be worrying over nothing.

Martika slowed her steps toward a training room, where about half the people from yesterday ran around in circles. Brother David sat in the middle of the room, clapping a steady beat.

“Did you see him?” Martika asked.

I nodded but didn’t comment.

“Come on then.” She broke into a sprint and disappeared among the runners.

I stretched out my arms and yawned before dragging my feet. For someone who had been fed upon, I wasn’t feeling too wretched. Maybe it was the lack of thrall. After a minute or so of shuffling and having everyone else overtake me, my head cleared a little and I picked up my knees and jogged.

Coral slowed at my side. “What are you doing with Martika?”

“You know her?”

“Where have you been?” Coral snorted. “You’re never at breakfast these days, are you?”

I turned to her and furrowed my