Bonds of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 7) by Bella Klaus (reading e books .txt) 📕

All the tension I’d held at bay melted off me in a relieved breath. He had survived Kresnik’s fireballs and had even tracked me down to the park. My beak opened to say his name, but I ended up making a garbled caw.

Valentine rose several feet into the air, keeping a distance of a few feet. “We have to hurry. The Council is debating on what to do about this breach of the Supernatural Secrecy Act. I left before they reengaged the lockdown, but we need to get you out of the country.”

My eyes bulged. It was as bad as I’d thought.

“Can you shift back?” He gestured down toward a thatch of trees below. “I brought a spare cloak to hide you from the cameras.”

A surge of gratitude thickened my throat, and my vision blurred, but I managed to nod through my tears. Pulling back my wings, I stretched out my talons and landed on the frosty ground with a gentle thud.

Valentine drifted down beside me, holding out a black hooded cloak. A few helicopters swooped close, making my heart sink. At this rate, they’d capture footage of me while I got changed.

“Use the trees as cover.” He walked beneath their canopy. “If you keep your head down as you shift, they won’t capture your face.”

Nodding, I pulled back my flames. Before I could even feel the kiss of the frost against my skin, Valentine had encased me in the cloak and swept me into his arms.

“Thought he had killed you.” His lips descended on mine in a gentle kiss.

My hands rose to cup his face. I was about to assure him that I was alright, when he raced out of the park at vampire speed, making my stomach lurch. London whizzed past in a blur, and the air chilled to nearly freezing.

I clenched my teeth, holding down my stomach against the heart-wrenching rollercoaster effect of his speed, and not speaking until he stopped within a mahogany-lined cabin of a luxury train.

My nostrils filled with the mingled scents of leather, champagne, and beeswax polish. I blinked over and over, taking in the 1920’s decor, wondering if we were in the set of Murder on the Orient Express.

To our left was a half-partitioned room containing a king-size bed with a gold-embroidered comforter illuminated by matching table lamps. Between a wall of square windows and where Valentine stood was a table for two with golden dining chairs upholstered in burgundy velvet.

I glanced over my shoulder at a plush sofa, and on our right, an entire wall of cabinets displaying crystal glasses and alcoholic beverages in fancy bottles. “Where are we?”

“The Phileas Express,” he replied, still cradling me to his chest.

My brows drew together at the familiar name. “Have you told me about this before?”

Valentine shook his head. “It’s an underground service to transport daylight-sensitive supernaturals around the world. Where have you been this entire month?”

I reared back. “A month?”

Valentine stared down at me with a deep frown. His skin was paler than usual, and his features were a little more chiseled. If he was still preternatural, I would have said he was in need of blood, but it looked like he hadn’t been taking care of himself.

“You’ve been gone for twenty-eight days.” His voice quivered. “How long was it for you?”

“A day?” I bit down on my lip and paused. “I fell unconscious, but I woke up, got swallowed by a snake, and Kresnik rescued me. Then his brother turned up and set an eagle on him, but all of that took place in less than two hours.”

Valentine gaped down at me through wide eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head. “He was surprisingly nice, but then he needed my tears to leave the Realm of the Gods.”

A long breath escaped his lungs. “Let me get you into the bath, and you can tell me.”

“No.”

“Mera?” He made one of those slow blinks people made when they were completely baffled.

Maybe my mind was jumping all over the place and I wasn’t telling the story right. I hadn’t given myself time to process everything. My body had shattered into pieces at least twice, I’d been abducted by Kresnik, swallowed by Python, and sexually harassed by Epimetheus and his oversized eagle. That wasn’t even counting waking up surrounded by emergency services.

“My skin is covered in digestive fluids.” I wriggled out of Valentine’s grip. When he set me on my feet, I shoved off the cloak, letting it fall to the floor. “The only way to kill a god is by using the blood, bone, or bile of another god.”

He drew closer, his brows furrowed. “Where did you learn that?”

“Epimetheus,” I blurted. “Kresnik’s brother.”

Valentine’s lips thinned. “Can you trust anything he says? He’s known as the god of hindsight and excuses.”

The train rolled forward and accelerated down the tracks, and I walked to the other side of the room, looking for the door. As I reached for the brass handle, Valentine placed a hand over mine and steered me toward another door.

“If you’re looking for the bathroom, it’s here,” he said.

“Thanks.” I pushed the door open and stepped into a marble room the same size as our cabin, with a clawfoot tub on the left. Light streamed in from recessed ceiling lights, illuminating the basins atop a counter on the right.

The train company had provided a range of toiletries for its passengers, including a glass jar containing cotton buds. I glanced around for another container, and not finding anything better, emptied its contents.

“Mera.” Valentine placed his hands on my shoulders. “Are you alright?”

I peeled off a strip of gunk that had dried on my skin and placed it into the jar. “The blood, bone, or bile of one god kills another.”

“According to Epimetheus?” Without needing to be prompted, Valentine eased his fingernails beneath some encrusted digestive fluids on my back and added it to my collection.

“Well, Kresnik killed Python with a stone he’d dipped in his own blood.” I reached into the hollow of