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

when she finished, she rose from the table and retreated back into the shelves.

Kresnik picked up a cup and pressed it into my hands. “You were telling me about your hostile attitude.”

The muscles of my neck tightened with indignation. No, I bloody well wasn’t. I pulled my lips into a bland smile and said the first thing that tumbled through my mind. “The past few weeks have been hard with the Supernatural Council trying to hunt me down for having fire magic. Those people really messed with my head.”

He emptied the entire bowl of sugar into his cup and brought it to his lips.

I took a pretend sip of my coffee and hummed my approval. “Thank you.”

Kresnik inclined his head. “Continue.”

“I’m so glad that Valentine is free from the Mage King.” I set down the cup, reached across the sofa and forced myself to place my hand on his forearm. The power coursing beneath my fingers made my insides tremble. “It’s wonderful that we’re finally together.”

“Everything I do is for my children.” He turned to me with misty eyes, looking on the verge of wanting a hug.

“I know, Father.” My voice wobbled, and I blinked a few times before dipping my head to wipe away an imaginary tear. “And I thank you for the wonderful home you’ve prepared for us.”

Kresnik rose off the sofa and offered me his hand. “Come, I wish to show you something.”

I let Kresnik pull me up, still not knowing why the hell he brought me here. At first, I thought he wanted me to tell him what I thought of him, but he didn’t linger too long on that subject and appeared to be looking for ammunition to break things up between Valentine and me.

He walked me across the room and toward the corner of the bookshelves where Martika cowered. Fear rolled a rapid beat over my eardrums, and my insides cringed at his touch. After shooing her to the side and making her scamper away, he placed a hand over one of the books, and a door clicked open.

“Are we going to a ritual room?” I asked.

“What I have to show you is far better,” he said with a cold laugh.

Without Valentine’s thrall keeping me subdued, I might have collapsed with terror or thrown up a bellyful of acid. We continued down a darkened hallway and down a set of stairs that led to a chamber illuminated by wall sconces.

It was about the size of the cafeteria but with sacks piled against the walls. Hundreds of figures stood in rows, some dressed like Supernatural Council enforcers, others wearing prison uniforms. Their red eyes reflected the light of the flames, but none of them appeared to blink.

A breath caught in the back of my throat, and I placed a hand over my mouth. I saw a documentary once about an army in China made up of terracotta soldiers. The emperor who had commissioned them wanted the figures to protect him in the afterlife, but what stood before me weren’t statues.

Kresnik stared down at me, his rasping breaths filling my ear. I held still, waiting for the moment he would blast me with his immense power and turn me into one of the undead.

Instead of attacking, he walked through the rows of mostly men, examining them like he was a drill sergeant making an inspection of his underlings. “This is my second-tier fighting force. The soldiers standing in the middle have already transitioned and those lying around the edges have yet to be turned.”

My gaze darted to the side of the room, where the piles I’d originally thought were sacks now took the shape of slumbering people.

“Father?” I turned back to the row of zombies, but couldn’t find Kresnik anywhere.

“Yes?” His voice echoed across the chamber.

Shards of anxiety tore through my insides like blades. “Why do you have so many?”

“We don’t have just the enforcers to contend with,” he replied from the far side of the room. “The British army will fight back. As will the Royal Navy, Royal Air Force and whoever else the government can enlist for the upcoming wars.”

My brows drew together. Someone once told me there were nearly two hundred thousand people in the armed forces. Even without factoring in the police and humans willing to fight against Kresnik, this battle seemed lost before it even began. I rose onto my tiptoes, looking for signs of the man but nothing stirred, not even on the edges of my vision.

“Why are you confiding in me?” I asked, trying to sound like a clueless Neutral. “Do you want me to look anything up for you on the internet?”

Kresnik emerged from the shadows, placing his hands on my shoulders and rooting me to the ground. “Don’t play coy with me, daughter. I think you know exactly what I need.”

Dread rolled around my belly, waiting for him to make his demand so my stomach would drop.

I stared into his white shirt. “Please, tell me.”

His cool hands gripped my chin and tilted my head up to meet his glowing eyes. Kresnik’s lips parted into that abnormally wide smile, and he released my chin, letting everything but those eyes and those terrible teeth fade into the gloom.

This was a trick of shadow and light magic—something Clarence and the twins could do when they had their power—nothing creepy or terrifying, apart from the man glowering down into my eyes.

I tried to pull my gaze away from his, but couldn’t. Somehow, he had managed to ensnare my consciousness the way an injured bird might be caught in the gaze of a king cobra. As his sharp power sliced into my mind, my knees buckled, but cold shadows wrapped around my neck and held me steady.

As he rifled through my thoughts, all I could think about was Valentine. The way he kissed me, the way his fangs sliced through my veins and how his soft lips felt against my veins as he drank.

“Tell me truly.” His voice echoed through my skull