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

The mercenaries in our group vanished from sight, reappearing behind members of the crowd of fire users, snapping necks, and tearing off pendants. When some of the fire users dimmed, proving themselves to be made of light, the vampires charged into the fray.

A vampire in black armor and a helmet shaped like a wolf’s head grabbed Snaggletooth around the neck and threw him across the chamber. He landed face-first into the wall, shattering his Cleopatra stone pendant. Dozens of fire users, including all the genies, vanished.

My heart soared, and I shot Valentine a triumphant grin. “It’s working.”

“Kresnik will know we’re here.” He stared down at me, his features solemn.

“There’s no point in hanging around here, then,” I said.

He flicked his head up to the mezzanine’s door. “I’ll take Caiman up with the spheres. You fly up after us.”

Valentine turned to the butler, who gave him a sharp nod and raised the bag containing the warded vessels we intended to use to trap Kresnik.

My stomach lurched, and I clamped my lips shut, not daring to utter my confession. Valentine’s heartfelt words about my beauty and strength had been linked to my new power, but what if it disappeared the moment we banished Kresnik into those objects?

The battle raged on around us, with only half the number of fire users and three-quarters of the creatures from before. Shouts and screams and strikes of weapons echoed through the chamber, adding to the pandemonium.

Every flame that made up my body flickered in and out of existence, and I placed a hand over my chest. If I remained quiet now and lost my power, I would revert to a damsel who needed protection, and I would never be able to help find King Antonius’s lost soul.

“Valentine?” I whispered.

He turned around, fixing me with his intense, violet eyes. “Morata?”

“I can’t shift into a phoenix.”

His eyes bulged. “What?”

Shame squirmed through my insides, along with a slick and slimy revulsion at how Kresnik had violated my soul. Valentine continued staring down at me as though we weren’t in the middle of a battle to save Great Britain from a fire-stealing maniac.

I cleared my throat and forced out the words. “It feels like he’s pulled away my phoenix and filled the void inside me with his stolen power.”

“That’s why you’re an ifrit?” he asked.

My gaze dropped to the flagstones, and I willed myself to nod.

Valentine placed his gloved fingers beneath my fiery chin and tilted my head up so our eyes met. “Never blame yourself for the actions of a madman.”

A rush of emotion thickened my throat, and the edges of my vision blurred with the onset of tears. “What if I never get my phoenix back?”

He shook his head. “You’ll always be my Innamorata, even if you lose your power. No matter what, Kresnik must die tonight.”

I straightened, my muscles tightening in readiness for the fight. There was no time to worry about the future when we were on the cusp of defeating Kresnik.

“You’re right,” I said. “Let’s kill that bastard.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Valentine reached for my hand, but I held out a palm and stepped back. “Wait a minute.”

The only dragon in the chamber who wasn’t an illusion roared with a fireball that exploded into a shower of sparks. Caiman, who stood at Valentine’s left, stared up at it with the tight expression some people make when forgetting their umbrella during a downpour.

Valentine’s brows rose. “What are you doing? We have to attack before he returns to the stage.”

I pulled up my hood. “Would you let me shift back for a few seconds?”

His features clouded. “Mera, I told you—”

“That’s why I want to make sure you don’t come into contact with my flames.” I tucked my flaming hands into my sleeves, trying to stuff as much as I could of my ifrit body into the reaper cloak. “Don’t touch my feet, and you should be fine.”

He scooped me into his arms, raised us several feet into the air, and gazed down at me with an indulgent smile. “We’ll need to commission you a set of fireproof armor that molds around your ifrit form,” he said with a smile.

“Banishing Kresnik might take that away,” I murmured.

His eyes softened. “Focus on surviving the battle.”

I nodded, and he set me on my feet.

From my vantage point of the mezzanine, the battle seemed more even. The demon mercenaries continued to pop in and out of existence to attack the fire users, while preternaturals in black denim fought evenly with Valentine’s subjects. I recognized their outfits as something Valentine had worn while he was working with Kresnik.

“November wasn’t the only master vampire,” I said.

“None of that will matter when Kresnik dies.” Valentine flew back into the edge of the battleground to pick up Caiman.

They arrived seconds later. Caiman unsheathed his firestone broadsword, while Valentine wielded a saber in his right hand and clung to the trident with his left.

He stood at the door and gazed down at me from over his shoulder. “Both of you, stay behind me.”

A flock of butterflies took flight through my insides. In less than a minute, I would see Kresnik again. If Sybil’s attempt to weaken our bond didn’t work, Cupid’s arrows would lock me into an eternity with Kresnik. His death would mean mine. His reincarnation would mean mine. We’d be fated forever, possibly with me forgetting that we were once enemies.

Was Kresnik’s demise and the possibility of being trapped with him forever a risk I was willing to take to save the world—to save Valentine from Kresnik’s wrath?

I clenched my teeth. I would.

Shoving those thoughts to the side, I nodded. “Alright.”

Valentine pushed open the door, revealing a narrow antechamber illuminated by the light of a roaring fire. On its far right, a pair of windows overlooked a different snow-covered courtyard.

I barely had time to take in the paintings of naked people frolicking among the clouds before a pair of ifrits rushed at us.

The ifrit on the left bared his teeth. “Who dares interrupt—”

In