Passion of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 5) by Bella Klaus (read novels website txt) 📕

a heart pounding hard enough to explode. Smoky magic tightened around my neck like a noose, and a scream tore from my throat.

Steam filled the bathroom, turning Valentine into a mere outline surrounded by dark figures. Judging by the suffocating mix of steam and smoke in the air, these intruders were also vampires.

Still skewered by dozens of crossbow bolts, Valentine rushed toward me, but a line of warriors appeared between us, blocking his path. He raised his hands, sending the crossbows and blasts of magic across the bathroom, but they held steady as though seized by magic.

“Let go of her, or I’ll kill you all,” Valentine growled.

I reached behind me, trying to claw at the face of whoever was holding me captive, but he leaned back, leaving me slashing my fingers through the air.

“Nephew.” Prince Draconius’s sharp voice said from behind me. “Stop clinging to existence and join your ancestors in the afterlife or I will drain every ounce of your cow’s blood.”

Every red blood cell in my veins trembled, reaching a boiling point that threatened to make me self-combust. My anger surged, and a war drum pounded through my ears. The wretched old vampire had somehow tracked me down and brought an army to destroy Valentine.

I caught sight of Valentine between the dark figures, his eyes burning brighter than crimson flames. He surged forward, but crashed against an invisible barrier of magic.

My heart pounded hard enough to rattle my ribcage, and sweat poured down my brow from the effort of struggling within this ancient vampire’s hold. I dug my fingers into the fabric of his jacket, and pushed every ounce of fury and frustration and firepower into my palms.

Flames spread beneath my hands, but nothing happened. Prince Draconius must have learned from our encounter yesterday and worn something fireproof.

“Stay still, my dear,” he crooned into my ear. “Once we have despatched my nephew to his eternal rest, I will give you the thrall you crave.”

“I don’t want it, especially not from you,” I snarled, making sure to elbow him hard in the gut. My funny bone hit his hard-as-stone body, sending an unpleasant tingle up my arm. “Bastard.”

The water continued to rain down from the walls and ceiling, thickening the condensation in the air until everyone became mere outlines. All I could see were the circle of men surrounding Valentine, trying to close in on him.

Nausea crawled up my gullet, and a tight fist of terror clenched my stomach. This was nothing like the five-way battle in the mausoleum, where Valentine fended off the attacks of his four brothers while trying to keep me safe. There were at least a dozen people here, all determined to murder Valentine.

“Stop this,” I cried.

Prince Draconius tightened his grip around my waist, holding me flush against his body. Beneath a thick layer of clothes was a physique harder and more brittle than any statue.

Tremors seized my muscles, penetrating my bones to the marrow. The vampire was so old, so well-prepared and well-equipped that nothing could breach his defenses.

Valentine swept his arms to the side, parting the steam and sending currents of wind across the bathroom, making it feel like the room had been struck by a hurricane. The water from the shower splattered the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and my body, but no matter what he did or how hard he fought against the invisible barrier, the dark figure continued to hold me prisoner.

Valentine roared his frustration, making my ears ring.

“Give up,” Prince Draconius shouted over the noise.

“Keep fighting,” I screamed at the top of my voice. “You can break free.”

The ancient vampire clamped his hand over my mouth. I bit down on his fingers but only got a mouthful of leather.

“As you see, my dear phoenix, resistance against my ancient guard is quite futile. These people have been with me for four thousand years, and each has honed their powers to surpass that of a mere preternatural.”

Anger seared through my veins, and a snarl tore through my throat. Multiple thoughts assaulted my mind at once. If Valentine’s uncle had access to such warriors, why did he allow Valentine’s brothers and other uncles to get killed while subduing the previous vampire king?

Prince Draconius’s chuckle made the answer obvious. He was so desperate to become a monarch that he took advantage of the previous situation with Kresnik to rid himself of everyone in line to the throne.

Valentine rose four feet in the air with his fists clenched, making the steam ripple. The dark figures closed in on him and tightened their barrier. I bucked my head in an attempt to break my captor’s nose, lurched forward to break free, but it was like trying to fight a building.

“Hush,” Prince Draconius said in the kind of tone one would use addressing a child. “Keep thrashing like that and you’ll only get damaged.”

“Fuck off,” I snarled from between clenched teeth.

Prince Draconius had to know that Valentine’s heart had been extracted and preserved and that I was capable of restoring Valentine. Even so, he chose to destroy Valentine, rather than order him to be resurrected. That just proved that the vampire was hungry to take over the Logris throne.

When the group of vampires managed to hold Valentine in place, Prince Draconius said something in a language I didn’t understand.

Another set of men rushed in, all wearing gray cloaks. They raised their hands to the ceiling, and covered the invisible barrier with flames.

My eyes bulged.

Valentine screamed.

The air filled with the scent of burned flesh.

They meant to cremate him. Hold him in place while the fire consumed his body. The first set of warriors maintaining the barrier stepped back, letting the fire mages come forward. Water swirled around the bathroom like a cyclone, dousing the flames, but the mages fought against Valentine’s attempts to extinguish their fire.

Had Prince Draconius teamed up with Kresnik? I shook those thoughts from my mind. New Mesopotamia was a vampire state, but other supernaturals were allowed to live there. They probably didn’t kill