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

rich and thick and creamy liquid. “Kresnik sent a team down to Hell to look for me.”

His brows furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Valentine told me yesterday.”

Hades leaned back in his seat. “So, he was faking all along?” He shook his head. “How does this crack-team of fire mages intend to get out of my domain?”

“It was a one-way trip for them.” I brought the cup to my lips and inhaled chocolatey perfection with a tiny hint of pepper that gave it an extra dimension.

I took a slip, letting the warm liquid spread across my tongue. Whoever made this knew chocolate—this was richer than Green and Black’s 85%. Hell, it was more decadent than a 100% blend Beatrice had once brought back from Madagascar. Despite the insane cocoa content, the hot chocolate still managed to be creamy and sweet.

Hades stared at me over his glass of amber liquid. “Did King Valentine make any progress on finding Kresnik’s weaknesses?”

“Only that Kresnik is looking for a specific fire user with immense power, who he thinks has a fifth chamber large enough to store massive amounts of power.”

“Which one?” Hades leaned forward, his eyes sharpening.

My brows drew together. Jonathan left the Flame before Hades attacked with his enforcers. But then Jonathan had been at my side when the Demon King lured us into that trap. “Do you remember Jonathan, the blond man who wielded black flames?”

Hades leaned back in his seat, seeming to deflate. “The one with the weak hellfire? I don’t recall seeing him in the hideout.”

I shook my head. “Captain Zella and I have a few leads. Her team is waiting for a broker to arrive who might lead us to Jonathan.”

He gave me an absent nod.

“Thanks for the shortbread and chocolate.” I rose to my feet and rubbed my stomach as though I’d just eaten the most satisfying Christmas dinner. “It was absolutely yummy. I’ll just let myself out and—”

The air thickened, making it impossible for me to move. A palpitation of panic pulsed along my pulmonary artery.

“Not so fast, Miss Griffin,” he said in a voice as slippery as melted cocoa butter. “You and I have unfinished business.”

Chapter Fourteen

I pushed against the thickened air but it was like being encased in glass. Hades had found a loophole. He wasn’t technically touching me—just altering the environment so it wouldn’t register as a direct attack.

My eyes rotated toward the fireplace but the demon had positioned himself too far behind me for me to catch a glimpse of him.

Silence spread out across his office, broken only by the quickening of my pulse. Behind me, the fire snapped and crackled and popped, and brimstone-scented air snaked around my limbs like tendrils.

The back of my throat spasmed with trepidation. Hades couldn’t hurt me—he wouldn’t. He hadn’t done so in Hell while he thought I was at his mercy, but I hadn’t outsmarted him then or caused affront to his position as the Demon King. A clock that I hadn’t noticed before ticked, its hollow sound making my nerve endings tremble.

Lights flared from the chandelier hanging close to the mezzanine where Hades kept a circular bed beneath a mirrored ceiling. My gaze trailed down the two sets of wooden stairs toward a pair of bronze statues depicting women frozen with fear. Anxiety knotted through my intestines. They probably weren’t works of art.

His footsteps echoed across the wooden floors, the reverberating sounds growing as he approached and drowning out the thud, thud, thud of alarm battering my eardrums. What was this about? Hades’ list of my supposed grievances against him were probably mounting by now.

The most serious of all was using my blood to resurrect him from the ashes, which meant he couldn’t cause me any harm. Someone more evil than me might even use that magic to manipulate him. Hades might also take issue with my continued rejection of his advances, the fact that I just tricked him into wasting one of the meals I’d promised to share with him by eating shortbread in his presence, or something he’d imagined?

Shallow breaths rasped in and out of my throat, giving me barely enough oxygen to stay conscious. He was drawing out this confrontation on purpose.

“I will not tolerate being taken for granted,” he said in a voice cool enough to cause freezer burn.

“What are you talking about?” I whispered.

“You haven’t thanked me for your mother.”

Some of the tension around my chest loosened, allowing me to breathe. Moments after Kresnik had killed Aurora, Hades had told me her actions had earned her a place in Hell and he assured me that she wouldn’t suffer. I thought I had thanked him for that.

“You found her?” I asked.

“She now dwells in a modest room in my palace and works in my administration, which is a vast improvement on the enclosures I reserve for fire users.”

A lump formed in the back of my throat, and the skin around my eyes warmed. Perhaps Aurora would hate doing paperwork all day, but at least she wouldn’t spend an eternity being tortured by demons.

“Thank you,” I said, meaning every single word.

“Thank you.” His words were flat. “Your outpouring of gratitude is overwhelming.”

“If you want a hug, you’ll have to release me,” I muttered.

The atmosphere loosened enough to adjust my awkward position but not enough to walk away. Hades walked around my still form, standing close enough for me to smell the cypress clinging to his skin. He shifted the air enough to tilt my head up so that our eyes met.

His usual smirk was gone, replaced by the hard-eyed expression his older self had employed during my trial at the Supernatural Council building. The lining of my stomach fluttered with nerves. This wasn’t about Aurora—mentioning her was a prelude to something else. He wanted a favor, and I wasn’t sure if it was something I could perform.

“I tire of your coquettishness,” he said.

It took a second for my brain to conjure up an image of a woman in a period drama batting her