Bonds of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 7) by Bella Klaus (romantic books to read TXT) 📗

quickened her steps and disappeared into a room. My insides burned with the urge to chase after her, but the thought of Kresnik being out there poisoning humans’ minds against the Supernatural World forced me to focus on the bigger issue. I placed a hand on the wooden door, and the wards’ magic curled around my wrist, reminding me of the enchantment of the penthouse.

I pushed open the door to find myself standing in the sauna-like room that contained an entire wall of mirrors and the slimline one that I had stepped through when I arrived. Unlike the mirrors in the palace, and everywhere else I had seen the devices, these had no frames.

“How the hell am I going to work this?” I muttered under my breath.

Placing a hand on its surface, I said, “Take me to the Supernatural Council room.”

Nothing happened.

“Of course it wouldn’t work,” I said to myself. “It’s not like I’m authorized to enter one of the most secure rooms in Logris.” I turned to the mirror. “Take me back where I came from.”

Its surface rippled, and I stepped through to the palace’s mirror room, where one of the armed guards helped me set the mirror to Beowulf’s office. When I stepped in again, it was to find myself in a small office similar to Namara’s, decorated with a lion pelt on the wall.

A pink-haired woman rose from behind a desk, wearing denim shorts and a plaid top that exposed her tanned midriff. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for King Beowulf.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she placed her hands on her hips. “What do you want with the alpha?”

“It’s related to something he’s doing for the Vampire King,” I replied. “Could you let him know I’m looking for him?”

The woman cocked her hip to the side, her gaze sweeping down my outfit. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m Wolfie’s personal secretary, and I’m not letting you see him until you tell me exactly what you want.”

“That information is classified.” At her glower, I raised my shoulders. “But it’s a matter of national security.”

She pushed a notepad and pencil across the table. “Fill in this request form, and I’ll add you to the waiting list.”

Every muscle in my shoulders and neck tightened, and I clenched my teeth to stop myself from saying something that might result in a fight for dominance. Sometimes, I really hated the Supernatural Council’s billion layers of belligerent bureaucracy.

The door opened, and Beowulf poked out his head. “Come inside.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. Without glancing at the pink-haired woman, I strode toward the Shifter King. “Thanks.”

Beowulf’s office wasn’t the huge penthouse space of Hades’ but I supposed that was because the Shifter King already had a permanent residence in this realm. It was about the same size as his assistant’s room, with a punching bag on its right side, a bench press, and a set of iron dumbbells the size of tires.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the main courtyard of the Supernatural Council building and the lake beyond. On the far left stood an imposing throne behind a large leather desk, and behind them hung a watercolor painting depicting a black wolf with mismatched gold-and-silver eyes.

I pushed aside my speculations that this was his shifter form and inhaled a deep breath. “Why are some of the women in your hideout not allowed to use the mirror room?”

Beowulf whirled around, his shoulders broadening, and a snarl curling his lips. “Is there a point to this line of conversation?” he growled, his eyes turning amber. “I let you in because of King Valentine, not to listen to your feminist rant.”

My stomach plummeted like a boulder, leaving me reeling from his abrupt change in temperament. I blurted, “It’s time for the Council to release him from prison.”

He folded his arms across his broad chest, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and stared down at me with eyes hard enough to hammer a woman into submission. “Anything else?”

Something deep inside me reared up, wanting to rage at him for Lydia’s position, but I held back. I didn’t know all the facts, and Beowulf didn’t seem like the type of man who would listen to reason if it came from a woman, and there was the much larger issue threatening the safety of the Supernatural World and beyond.

“What is the Council doing about Kresnik?” I asked.

Beowulf’s hard gaze finally released mine, easing some of my tension. The corners of his mouth twitched with annoyance. “Kresnik killed the first wave of enforcers I sent. A group of ward masters are surrounding the studio to shut off the broadcast and contain Kresnik.”

“The TV show was still running ten minutes ago when I left,” I said. “If ninety-nine wards that were set up when he was unconscious didn’t work, what makes them think that these new wards will?”

Beowulf bent his neck from one side to the other, making his bones crack. My skin tightened into goosebumps, and every nerve in my body twanged at the sound. I held my features still, trying to keep a neutral expression.

“The Angel King seems to think that combining the magic of his underlings with demonic wards might make a difference.”

“Maybe someone needs to attack Kresnik directly,” I said.

“Tell them that yourself,” he muttered. “I left those bastards a moment ago.”

“Can you take me through, please?” I clasped my hands. “Valentine shouldn’t be behind bars at a time like this.”

He grunted his agreement and walked out into his secretary’s room. I followed after him, meeting the pink-haired woman’s gaze.

“Wolfie?” she asked.

“Later.” He placed a hand on the frame of the mirror and made its surface ripple.

Captain Zella poked her head through and furrowed her brows. “Are you ready to return, Your Majesty?”

Beowulf hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Plus one guest.”

The captain offered me her hand. I took it, letting her pull me into the meeting room.

As I stepped through, I met the usual Council Members around the table. The Angel King sat between the Witch Queen and an empty space. Beside the Witch