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

“That’s the plan.” He leaned forward, edging over the footboard. “Is it working?”

I yanked on a silk sheet, dislodging it from the bed, and wrapped it around my naked body. After securing its ends around my neck like a toga, I swung my legs off the mattress and landed on the rug.

My feet sank into its soft pile, and I padded around the four-poster bed with the tall windows on my left. Outside, a group of guards stood around a tall pile of branches staked into a pyre. My steps faltered. What on earth were they burning at this time of the morning? I hoped it wasn’t the bodies of the people Kresnik had chosen for his so-called team of elites.

Hades huffed. “It’s too late for modesty. I saw everything last night down to how King Valentine pounded your wet little pussy.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, making me stagger back. Valentine and I had had public sex in Gourmande, but he had rearranged the fabric of my dress so I wasn’t giving the audience a complete show. Besides, it had been part of a charade to prove to Kresnik that I was Valentine’s obedient little blood cow. Last night had been intimate—between just Valentine and me. Valentine had even let Macavity out to give us privacy.

I clenched my teeth, glowering at the ash cloud whirling around my body like the eye of a hurricane. How dare this creature spy on our intimate moments and make rude comments about what he’d seen?

Hades chuckled, the sound like pitchforks scraping over my raw nerves. “King Valentine missed several tricks. I would have pumped you with my seed until it spilled out of all three holes.”

“That’s because you’re a peeping perv,” I snapped. “In your condition, you couldn’t even stuff a pizza crust.”

The whirlwind stilled, and Hades coalesced into the shape of a man standing six and a half feet tall. Brimstone filled my nostrils, and his jagged power lashed against my skin with the impression of thorns.

“I am the Demon King,” he snarled in a baritone that came from the depths of Hell.

All the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and the moisture evaporated from my throat, leaving me gasping. Even when disembodied and with only one-seventh of his ashes, the creature standing in front of me was powerful beyond imagination. I placed a hand over my collarbone and forced myself not to step back or let him see my fear.

Through all the salacious comments and jokes, I’d almost forgotten that this was also the being who had helped enslave Valentine, wanted to tear my soul from my body, and cast everyone in the Flame to Hell.

I gulped. Hades was only in this predicament because Kresnik had taken him by surprise. With the stolen magic of an ifrit, a dragon, a phoenix, and what he’d absorbed from Jonathan, Coral and the others, Kresnik had only managed to destroy the Demon King’s body. Anyone else would have lain dormant in their jars, but Hades was different.

Hades’ power continued to roil, making my palms sweat. Maybe it was the thrall coursing through my veins, because the old Mera might have quaked. Now, I held steady and stared into the face of a demon.

This was the moment that would determine how our association would work. Hades was flexing his power, trying to make me cower from his might. If I backed down now, he would continue to taunt and tease me until I snapped. This was no different from the bullies at the academy. I just needed to stand up to Hades, and let him know that I wouldn’t take his bullshit.

I raised my chin, meeting his dusty eyes. “If you wish to command my respect, then you must earn it.”

Hades snarled, the outline of his incorporeal form trembling with rage. “How dare you—”

“You and I both know that I’m the only person in this stronghold who won’t tell Kresnik you’ve broken free from one of your containers.”

He stilled.

I nodded. He knew I was right.

“Now, here’s how it’s going to work between us.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Before I even consider collecting a single jar, I need you to swear that you won’t directly or indirectly drag innocent fire users to Hell.”

“You don’t understand how Kresnik works,” Hades snarled. “The more of your kind he can bring into the world, the more magic sources he can feed upon to bolster his own power. By the time Kresnik is ready to face the Supernatural Council, every fire wielder in this so-called Flame will be picked clean of their magic.”

Anxiety wound tight through my insides. This wasn’t exactly news—Kresnik had stolen the power of dozens of young people, including me. But I hadn’t thought he would also draw on the power of everyone else.

I hid my shock behind a mask of calm. “Is this why the Supernatural Council hands our souls to you?”

Hades inclined his smoky head. “I keep all your kind locked in a pocket realm, safe from becoming his fuel.”

As his words sank into my skull, nausea rippled through my insides and crawled up my gullet. This was… unimaginable. Hades was probably telling the truth about Kresnik wanting to consume everyone, but I couldn’t believe he took our souls to Hell to keep Kresnik from rising to power. Hades probably ate our souls with chianti or used them to stoke his fires. The notion that the Demon King was protecting the world from Kresnik was inconceivable.

I needed time and space to think. My gaze dropped from the ash cloud, and I walked around his transparent form and headed toward the bathroom.

“Those oafs in denim will never become Kresnik’s army,” Hades said to my back. “They are his fuel. Kresnik means to unleash an army of preternatural beings on Great Britain. Souls that should be bound to the afterlife will remain trapped within their dead bodies,