Rebirth of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 6) Page 4

  I parted my lips to protest, but clamped them shut. Obtaining that Helm was far more important to me than defending Valentine’s honor to a man who wouldn’t listen. Hades was a creature of contradictions. Most of the time, he talked to me like I was a plaything and it was only a matter of persuasion before I fell to his dubious charms. Despite this, he was willing to entrust to me something so priceless.

  “Thank you.” With fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling, I extended a hand toward the helmet.

  Hades raised it out of reach and stared down at me with hard eyes. “Swear to me that you’ll guard my Helm as though it was the heart of your beloved.”

  “I promise to protect this precious and priceless piece of armor.” The words spilled from my lips in a rush.

  His eyes sharpened, making me gulp. I hadn’t meant to ramble and hoped he wasn’t thinking this was an attempt to wriggle out of making a binding promise. For the next several heartbeats, Hades scrutinized me as though running my words over in his mind and checking them for loopholes.

  Meeting his eyes with a steady gaze, I placed a hand on his bicep. “I swear to return your helm and to give it the same care as I would offer to Valentine’s heart.”

  Hades nodded, his features relaxing. He placed both hands around the Helm and lowered it toward my head. I straightened, bracing myself against the onslaught of light magic, shadows, and something so ancient that it raised the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

  As the Helm engulfed my head, the air around me muffled, encasing me in a ball of static electricity that crackled and popped against my skin, making every nerve ending tingle. Moments later it smoothed out and turned into the same kind of angular magic I’d felt during the resurrection of Kresnik. Perhaps this was how gods felt—like power-filled pyramids with impossibly smooth edges.

  Hades stepped back and tilted his head to the side. His magic had always been demonic, without a trace of anything I’d sensed from the helmet or the Titan formerly known as Prometheus. What on earth had happened to Hades between the time he’d been the Greek god of the Underworld to relegate him to the leader of the Fifth Faction of Hell? I shoved the matter away for later.

  “Thank you.” I met his maroon eyes, which shone with a regret that matched the downturn of his mouth and the way he scrubbed a hand over his face.

  If I’d had more time, I might have explored why he’d decided to help me against his better judgement, but every instinct screamed at me to return to my soulmate.

  He waved me away. “Did you know that coffee has a tenderizing effect on meat? I wouldn’t leave King Valentine’s head to marinate lest he resurrect with even softer intellect.”

  With a nod, I turned back to the mirror, stepped into its surface, and into knee-deep water.

  The room Valentine had rented now resembled a derelict paddling pool with sheets and cushions and broken lampshades floating on its surface. Water streamed in through hairline cracks on the curved glass walls, looking like the place might collapse with the barest of pressure. I turned to the door, my shoulder bumping into the invisible form of one of the twins.

  A large hand landed on the small of my back and ushered me to the exit. When I opened the door, a barrier of water magic held the liquid in place so it wouldn’t spill into the hallway. A white feline with a black mustache poked its head out of the room next door and darted back inside.

  “We’d better hurry,” I whispered to my invisible companion. “That cat might have been sent down here to keep an eye on the door.”

  Two sets of hands landed on my shoulders, and all three of us jogged down the long hallway of magnolia walls and matching doors toward the wooden fire exit at the end.

  One of the doors ahead of us opened, and a statuesque woman stepped out, clad in a floor-length gold dress that clung to her voluptuous figure. She rolled her broad shoulders, ran a large hand through hair the color of wheat, and exhaled a long sigh. Behind her was a self-wheeling suitcase that took up half the width of the hallway.

  Our steps slowed, and we walked behind the woman, whose magic was probably held back by something like Cleopatra stone. As she made her way down the corridor, I bit down on my lip, hoping that they hadn’t moved Valentine yet. It was likely that they had, considering the amount of mess Prince Draconius and his warriors had made.

  “Who’s there?” The woman glanced over her shoulder, shooting us a venomous glare.

  My muscles stiffened. How could she sense us?

  She whirled around, holding a short sword with a blade that glowed like a flaming torch. “Hades?”

  I placed a hand over my mouth. Who on earth could recognize the magic of the Helm?

  After several moments of glaring, the woman lowered the dagger, continued toward the awaiting elevator, and stepped inside. “Tell your master the answer is still no.”

  As soon as its doors slid shut, all three of us jogged toward the exit. If that cat wasn’t going to tell the demons about invisible intruders lurking in the hallways, that blonde woman certainly would.

  After a long climb in the dark, violin music streamed into the stone stairwell, bringing with it the scent of freshly brewed coffee. I pushed open the door a crack to find that the coffee shop had been restored to its former splendor.

  The walls retained their usual claylike plaster appearance, but the floors were a darker shade of brown, presumably because of all the liquid that had spilled from the fountain.

  Laughter and chatter filled the air, and the hundred-foot-wide space was crammed with tables and chairs all occupied by a mix of human and supernatural patrons. My throat thickened. It was as though recent events had made Koffiek even more popular than before.

  That, or rumor had spread that a phoenix had burned a bunch of people to ash and everyone wanted a chance for an obligation-free rebirth.

  “Is there someone we can interrogate?” I whispered.

  Nut patted me on the back. Not that I was an expert on nonverbal communication, but I’d spent enough time with Macavity to know the universal sign for ‘don’t worry, I’m working on it.’

  An invisible figure pushed past us, opening the door a little wider.

  “Nut?”

  She gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, making my muscles relax.

  “I guess now we wait.”

  Nut didn’t reply, and I leaned against the stairwell’s cool wall, waiting for Geb to bring an unsuspecting demon who might tell us what they had done with Valentine’s body. I rubbed my temples, massaging away the beginnings of a migraine. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate or drank. Had it been the Panacea water Kain had given me when I’d snuck into the palace grounds?

  My insides roiled, making the rioting butterflies fall quiet. The frantic beat of my pulse resounded through my ears, drowning out the strains of the orchestra. I rubbed my hand over my brow, which was now slick with sweat. This had to be nerves. It hadn’t been more than two hours since I got my last dose of thrall, and transforming into a phoenix should have incinerated my addiction the way that it had burned the blood lure curse that had plagued my leg.

  “What is the meaning of this?” snarled a voice from behind the door.

  A jolt of adrenaline shot through my heart, making me stand to attention. I stepped away from the exit just as it swung open, and one of the seven-foot-tall doormen I’d encountered at the door stumbled inside.

  Geb had pierced his bottom lip with a ring as thick as my thumb and forefinger. Blood streamed down his chin, making my stomach plummet. Wincing, I slapped a hand over my mouth and staggered back, only to bump into Nut, who held me steady.

  The doorman swung his massive fists at his invisible attacker, roaring, “Speak, damn you.”

  Nut said something in that unrecognizable ancient language.

  “What?” The guard snarled, spraying droplets of blood over the stairwell’s pristine walls.

  “Where is King Valentine’s body?” I said, trying not to gag.

  “Cold storage.” T
he huge demon placed a hand on the ring, but sparks flew from the metal, making him flinch. “Release me, and I will show you.”

  Somehow, Geb managed to force the demon to guide us through a panel in the wall and around the back of the coffee shop, where the muted strains of the orchestra drifted in through the air vents.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way,” he muttered. “King Valentine was a good customer. Nobody meant him any harm.”

  I clenched my teeth. Those wretched demons should have thought about that when using their magic to freeze him. Instead, they’d left him immobile and vulnerable to the attack of an opportunist. There was no point in voicing any of this. The doorman hadn’t participated in the coffeeshop battle, the only people I blamed for this mess were Prince Draconius and that phony pharaoh, Irdu.

  “Stop tugging so hard.” The demon stooped a dead end, making me wonder if Geb was riding him piggyback.

  “Stop talking so loud.” I glared at his broad back, pausing to maintain a distance of ten paces out of kicking range. “Unless you want to end up with a hole through your bottom lip that no one can plug.”

  “Cold storage is on the left door,” he whispered. “Right next to the kitchen.”

  I nodded. “We’re going to knock you out. If you’ve led us into a trap, we’ll kill you while you sleep, and I’ll make sure you suffer in Hell. If you wake up before we’ve left, stay quiet unless you want to die.”

  “Fine.”

  His head twisted, making a high-pitched snap, before he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

  An icy fist of shock slammed into my gut, radiating cold throughout my insides. I reeled forward, my eyes bulging as the doorman sat on the ground, his neck hanging at an unnatural angle.

  “Why did you have to kill him?” I whispered.

  One of the twins gave me a hearty clap on the back that made me stumble forward and toward the dead body. They probably remembered how bitterly I’d complained about Geb’s slaughter of Benny the Überwald driver and they wanted to communicate that they couldn’t guard my safety without a few murders. Or they thought I was being entertaining. It was hard to tell.

  Part of me knew that knocking the doorman unconscious risked letting him regain his faculties enough to raise the alarm, giving me no time to incinerate Valentine’s body. This was probably their way of making sure we completed the mission so that I wouldn’t have to pay them with my organs. I bowed my head and squeezed my eyes shut. Did demons ever need a reason to kill?

  The door creaked open, letting out a gust of icy air that made my skin tighten. I clenched my teeth, wishing I’d asked Hades for something to wear beneath my reaper cloak, and stepped inside.

  My breath caught, and I blinked away the condensation, finding myself in a twenty-by-twenty-foot slaughterhouse. Carcasses filled the entire space, each suspended on metal hooks attached to steel girders that criss-crossed the ceiling.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  Some were pigs, others cows, and I think I also recognized lamb. I slid my hands into the pockets of my cloak, trying to keep the chill from my fingers. “Please don’t tell me they hung Valentine like this.”

  A warm hand hooked beneath my elbow and guided me down the row of animal carcasses to a section at the back of the room lined with a trio of metallic cabinets. Palpitations reverberated across my heart. Macavity and I had seen enough episodes of Three Feet Under to recognize a mortuary cabinet. I sucked in a breath, praying to every deity imaginable—including Hades—that Valentine’s remains would be inside.

  “It’s a bloody mess.” A clipped voice echoed across the space.

  I stiffened, and the hand beneath my elbow dropped away.

  “One of your making,” snarled another.

  “It doesn’t matter who started the fight,” the first man said with a haughty sniff. “The fact remains that a rogue phoenix shifter burned our masters to ashes, and we’re unable to act without instructions.”

  The second man grunted his agreement. “Why haven’t they risen from their ashes yet? It’s been ages.”

  An impatient sigh resounded across the room. From where I was standing, behind a gigantic cow, with both hands clapped over my mouth and nose, it sounded like the first man was one of the ancient vampire warriors from New Mesopotamia. It would explain the superior attitude and his attempt to sidestep the blame for tonight’s disaster.

  “It’s been millennia since anyone last saw a phoenix, let alone encountered one,” the first man drawled, sounding like he was exasperated enough to warrant a fainting couch. “Forgive me if I’m rusty on the mythology of maidens who transform into fire birds, but I wager that having half of one’s ashes missing or submerged in coffee can delay the phenomena of resurrection.”

  I curled my lip. What an asshole.

  “There’s no need to be sarcastic,” the second man snapped. He was probably the demon in charge now that Irdu was indisposed.

  Their bickering continued, and I pushed my shoulders back and forth, trying not to freeze in place. Why couldn’t they move their griping to somewhere more comfortable, like the hallway or one of Koffiek’s many rooms?

  A knock sounded on a faraway door.

  “Who is that?” the demon in charge hissed.

  When nobody answered, his heavy footsteps echoed across the slaughterhouse, and ice cracked as he flung it open.

  “Well?” asked the superior-sounding vampire.

  “I’m going next door to the kitchen for a cup of warm blood,” he muttered. “You coming?”

  “If I must.” Footsteps receded across the space and into the hallway.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, all the tension escaped my chest in an outward breath. I turned toward the mortuary cabinets, trying not to consider why Koffiek combined it with a place where they stored meat or why it was situated beside the kitchen.

  Ice snapped beneath my feet, and I shoved aside my brain’s attempts to rehash every item of food and drink I’d consumed in this establishment to see if I’d inadvertently eaten anything of human extraction.

  My skin tightened. Why did supernaturals have to eat human flesh, anyway? It was probably the demons and some kinds of faeries, but the thought of anyone eating a person who was once walking and talking made me shudder.

  The mortuary cabinets consisted of nine drawers arranged in three columns of three.

  “Nut, you take the one on the left, Geb the right, and I’ll check the middle,” I whispered. “Whoever finds Valentine first should cough.”

  Nut patted me on the back, and I walked to the center, my heart quickening. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen anyone die before, but mixing human corpses with meat caused the butterflies in my stomach to writhe in protest.

  I pulled out the bottom-left drawer, revealing the calm features of a young woman with tattoos of roses covering her shaved head. Pushing it back, I turned to the one on top of that. The bowl haircut was unmistakable, but it took me a moment or two to recognize the rictus of frozen terror.

  Jonathan.

  Chapter Four

  Seeing Jonathan again was like a flying kick to the sternum that knocked out all my air. I stepped back, my gaze drifting over his hollowed-out chest cavity from where Valentine had torn through his ribcage to yank out his heart.

  Frigid air from the cabinet’s interior chilled the outer layer of my skin, and I froze in place, staring into the milky-blue eyes of my former enemy.

  My throat thickened. Now that he was dead, enemy was too strong a word to describe Jonathan. He had been annoying, cruel, vindictive bordering on evil, but he was just as much a victim of Kresnik as anyone else.

  I gulped. Jonathan had also been my brother.

  Now, he was an empty shell. I guessed this was because the twins had dined on his organs.

  My heart sank, and cold spread through my insides, but I couldn’t muster up enough sorrow to generate a tear. Not after Jonathan’s continual gaslighting, harassment, and his attempts to sabotage my relat
ionship with Valentine. Even now, I had no idea why he had thrown the bundle of sticks at my feet that had caused me to uncover my relationship to Father Jude.

  A warm hand landed on my shoulder, sending a jolt of adrenaline through my system, bringing me back to the present. We had better find Valentine today and before the demons noticed we’d returned, or it might be me lying in one of those drawers.

  My lips tightened. I wouldn’t be so lucky as to earn a quick death. Not when Irdu had outlined his plan to breed me and sell my offspring as pets.

  A door creaked open. I spun around, only to find my view blocked by a row of cow carcasses. Heavy footsteps echoed across the room, mingling with the frantic beat of my heart.

  “How is this massive carcass going to fit in those tiny drawers?” muttered a bassy voice.

  I held my breath and placed a hand on my chest.

  “This one’s for sausage meat,” replied a higher-pitched male voice. “Set her on the bandsaw table.”

  Nausea surged through my insides, and the hand on my chest slid over my mouth. What kind of place was Koffiek? A modern-day Hansel and Gretel trap? If I ever managed to revive Valentine, we would never dine at establishments run by supernatural beings who ate humans.

  Heavy footsteps echoed to the slaughterhouse’s far-right corner, followed by an even heavier thud. My gaze darted back to the cabinet and I tried not to imagine what kind of human or otherwise was too large to fit into its drawer.

  “Right then,” said the first voice. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  The second man grunted his thanks, and a moment later, the door creaked open and slammed shut.

  The air filled with a high-pitched whirr, sounding like a combination of a dentist’s drill and a bone saw. I held my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut.

  This was supposed to be an easy mission. Find Valentine’s body, unite him with his head and heart, set all three alight, and wait for him to resurrect. But I hadn’t accounted for seeing Jonathan’s corpse and sharing space with a demon who turned people into sausages.