Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) (29 page)

‘You screwed up, shifter.’

‘No, you screwed up.’ He jabbed his finger at her. ‘You said get Dominic’s blood. You never said anything about what it
could or couldn’t have in it. Now, you find a way to clean it and make it work.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ She squinted at him, but her gray eyes were too bloodshot to intimidate.

‘I’m telling you to live up to your end of the bargain.’ If she took that as a threat, she was smarter than he gave her credit for, because if she didn’t fix Fi, he would find a way to make Aliza and her whole coven pay.

She glared at him for a moment, then studied the fluid in the vial, swishing it around. ‘I can try to clean it, but chances of that working are almost nil. Either way, the blood stays with me.’

‘Fine. Keep it. Just figure out a different way if you can’t clean it.’

‘There is no different way.’ Aliza’s eyes took on a watery sheen. ‘You can’t just release the kind of magic Evie’s under without wiping it out. It has to be destroyed.’

A thought struck him. ‘If you don’t, what happens?’

She shook her head, looking drunk and confused once again. ‘What happens to what?’

‘To the magic. If you don’t destroy it, what happens?’

‘It would find Evie and turn her into stone again.’

‘Just Evie?’ He raised a brow, wondering if his idea had any merit. ‘Or could the magic be redirected?’

She slumped into a kitchen chair, turning the vial in her hands. ‘Sure, but who are you going to get to volunteer to be turned into stone?’

Doc laughed with new hope. ‘Who said anything about a volunteer?’

‘T
oo bad you can’t go in.’ Creek nodded toward the house from his side of the gate into Chrysabelle’s estate.

Mal snorted. ‘She said neither of us could come in. Human hearing must suck more than I remember.’

‘I heard her just fine. I meant you’re incapable of going in. Couldn’t if you tried.’ He shrugged, enjoying the night air. It was good to be outside, although he’d prefer to be at Chrysabelle’s side. ‘Not unless she invites you, which obviously she hasn’t. Now, I, on the other hand, could walk right through that front door—’

‘What makes you think she hasn’t invited me?’

‘Has she?’

Chrysabelle was so much the vampire’s weakness. Who could blame him? She was beautiful. A comarré and a vampire. Kind of like a mouse falling for a cat. A mouse Creek had a vested interest in.

Mal glowered in response.

‘That’s a no, then. You scared that wysper she keeps on staff will start singing?’ He wasn’t sure what Chrysabelle saw in Mal,
but he knew too well how good women could fall for bad men. Especially when they’d been brainwashed into thinking it was the right thing to do. The KM could offer her sanctuary if she needed it.

‘Velimai doesn’t scare me. And Chrysabelle’s mother never gave vampires invitation into the house. Chrysabelle has chosen to keep that rule. It’s a good one, considering.’

‘Considering what?’ Creek laughed. ‘That you might sneak in and drink her to death?’

Mal’s eyes went silver, his voice husky. ‘I would never hurt her. She knows that.’ He looked away. ‘I’m not the one she needs to worry about.’

The vampire seemed sincere. Creek guessed that was possible. ‘You mean Tatiana, the woman you were talking about before.’

‘Yes. She’s after something Chrysabelle has. And she’s more than just a woman.’

‘She’s after the ring.’ The focus of his mission. ‘I know who Tatiana is. Elder of the Tepes family. Nasty female vamp. Rumored to be Lord Ivan’s favorite bed toy.’

If the vampire was surprised by Creek’s knowledge, he hid it. ‘I mentioned the ring the night we battled the Nothos. All that proves is you’re a good listener. And yes, that’s the Tatiana we were referring to. Is that all you know about her?’

‘I knew about the ring before that night.’ Creek checked his mental files. ‘As far as Tatiana, there isn’t a lot more to tell. She came out of nowhere, appearing on the scene right after she went through navitas. We also know that Lord Ivan is the noble who resired her, but he’s not her original sire. She’s borderline insane, too, most likely because of the navitas.’

‘Borderline? Try over the line. But I’m pretty sure it started before the navitas.’

‘How do you know? You weren’t ever truly part of the nobility, as far as KM records show.’ Truth was, Creek knew nothing about Mal except what Chrysabelle had told him.

‘You got that right.’ Mal stared toward the house. ‘But I know plenty about Tatiana. I know her intimately. She was my human wife. I’m the one who sired her.’

Creek turned to stare at him. ‘She was your wife?’ He shook his head. ‘Dude. I feel for you.’ Some choice in women. ‘That locket she wears, the one with the portrait of a little girl inside. That little girl mean anything to you?’

Mal’s face froze, but sorrow laced his gaze. ‘Yes.’ He turned his body away from Creek. ‘Our daughter, Sofia.’

‘What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘I thought the KM knew everything.’ The vampire crossed his arms, his gaze still fixed on the house. Probably listening to Chrysabelle’s heartbeat.

‘The KM might. I only know what I’ve been told.’

‘Tatiana was the linchpin in my being cursed. She’s also responsible for imprisoning me in the dungeon of a ruined castle for fifty years.’

‘Fifty? Damn. I was only in for seven.’ He couldn’t imagine doing a stint that long. He leaned against the gate, feeling luckier than he had when he’d woken up. ‘Time like that changes you.’

‘Tatiana meant for me to wither into dust in that dungeon. Lord Ivan was there that night. He helped her. So was another vampire, but he’s already been taken care of.’

‘Good to know.’ He’d had no idea Tatiana had such a history, but she was definitely capable of everything Mal had said.

Mal stepped away from the wall and moved a few paces toward the house. ‘Do you know the extent of my curse?’

‘Just that you are cursed. That’s all Chrysabelle told me.’

Mal nodded. ‘I’m sure she’ll fill you in over time, but I’ll save her the trouble. I can’t drink from the vein without killing my victim. The voice of every soul I take inhabits my head.’ He yanked his sleeve up. Black script covered his skin. ‘I wear their names on my skin.’ He pulled his sleeve back down. ‘I’ve drunk from the vein once since Tatiana’s curse. That soul manifested as a ghost who haunts me to this day.’ His gaze dropped to the ground for a moment. ‘She did anyway. She’s gone now. Killed because of Tatiana.’ He shook his head. ‘Long story.’

‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Not that Creek wanted him to stop. Tatiana was his enemy, and it was good to know more about her and what she was capable of, but Mal’s sharing so easily was unexpected.

Mal pointed toward the house. ‘Because Chrysabelle wants us to get along. I know you’re here to kill me. Up until a few weeks ago, I would have painted a target on my chest and opened my arms to your bolt. I’m not that creature anymore. Because of her. My life, such as it is, has purpose now. To protect her.’

‘I’m not here to kill you, unless you present a threat to her. And protecting her is part of my job as well.’

‘Then we meet on common ground.’

‘Even where Tatiana is concerned.’ Creek stuck his hand out. ‘Truce.’

Mal stared at his hand. ‘Why should I trust you?’

‘You shouldn’t – not any more than I trust you – but we have the same purpose.’ He tipped his head toward the house. ‘And the same enemies.’

Mal stilled for a moment like he was thinking, then shook Creek’s hand. ‘Agreed.’

They went back to leaning on their respective sides of the
gate, passing the time without a word until Mal spoke. ‘What were the seven years for?’

‘Killed my father.’

A few seconds ticked by. ‘Any particular reason?’

‘He was choking my sister to death.’

Mal gave him a sideways glance. ‘She okay?’

‘She is now.’

Mal nodded. ‘Tatiana hates me because I didn’t save Sofia’s life by turning her into a vampire.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Like I would damn my daughter’s soul.’

‘Hard decision.’ Creek wasn’t sure what else to say to that, so he chose nothing. Mal didn’t need platitudes. The silence stretched out between them until a pale figure appeared in the upstairs windows.

‘Speaking of decisions … ’ Mal pushed off the wall. ‘I just made one.’

Chrysabelle knew she should be in bed, resting, but instead she stood at the French doors that led from the master suite to the large balcony overlooking the front of the estate. With the lights off and if she stood angled just so, her night vision was still sharp enough to pick out the two dark figures standing on either side of the property’s gate.

If she walked outside, she could see them even better. But she wasn’t going to do that because she didn’t want to hear them arguing and threatening to kill each other again. How could two intelligent men be so stupid?

They
had
to find a way to share this world, because she didn’t want either of them hurt. They were both good men at heart. Just very different. And equally interesting.

Creek because of his humanity and because she believed he
was a warrior on the side of right. The kind of man she
should
align herself with. She wanted to know him better.

With Mal it was different. They’d been through so much together, and where Creek was a connection to her mortal side, Mal connected her to the side that definitely wasn’t. She also believed she served as a link for Mal to his long-forgotten humanity. Mal had fought for her. She wanted to fight for him, too. Even if they weren’t currently seeing eye to eye.

And lastly, both men were powerful reminders of the light and dark that lived within her. She had moments when one side definitely pulled her more strongly than the other. Losing touch with one might push her over a line she could never uncross.

She feared that like she feared losing her comarré identity. No matter how much she wanted to leave it behind and become a modern woman the way her mother had, there was comfort in the routines and traditions. It was all she’d known, and for all those years, comarré life had provided her with guidelines and boundaries. Breaking away meant making decisions based on feelings, not rules. Feelings she’d been trained to subvert.

Making those kinds of decisions also meant accepting the consequences when things went wrong.

Things like what might happen with Mal if she gave him a chance at her heart. Or if she chose to get to know Creek better. Both of which appealed to her.

There were more reasons that that, she knew, but
those
reasons, those feelings … she had no room for them. No desire to stir them up and acknowledge that her emotions concerning these two men were untried and unfamiliar and wholly frightening.

Both of them had cared for her when she’d been injured. Both
of them had joined her in battle and fought beside her. Protected her. And both of them had kissed her.

She bent her head and rested it on the glass. Her breath fogged the pane as she exhaled.

For a woman who had known only order, chastity, and servitude for the last one hundred fifteen years, having these two men in her life was a great deal to take in.

Almost too much.

She sighed, raised her head, and startled. A dark, familiar form leaned against the balcony railing. Her robe lay discarded across the bed, but she opened the door anyway, bracing herself for more complaints about Creek.

Mal’s jaw tensed as his gaze traveled from the thin straps of her white silk nightgown to the tips of her clear polished toes.

‘Can I help you?’ She crossed her arms, hiding her breasts as his gaze returned to her face.

‘I see the resting is going well.’ Mal punctuated his question with a half smile. ‘Tired of being in bed or haven’t you been there yet?’

She gave him a little smile in return. This was the Mal she liked most. ‘I rested on the couch, but Velimai has taken to mothering me. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I came up here. If she knew I wasn’t in bed … ’