Last Blood (15 page)

Creek nodded. “You have no idea.” He tipped his head toward the crime scene below. “Two murders in two days. And both pointing hard at a vampire killer.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

He looked at her. “What’s up?”

The strobing blue police lights reflected off her protective shades. “Tatiana’s headed here. Might already be here. Our intelligence gathering has become a little more difficult with Octavian out of the picture.”

“Damn.” Chrysabelle would need to know that. He wondered what Annika would do with Chrysabelle’s news about Mal. Not that he was going to share that. He liked Annika, probably more than he should, and he’d
even come to trust her as much as anyone could trust a KM sector chief, but therein lay the issue. She was still Kubai Mata and he was still trying not to be.

“Exactly. This could get ugly. We don’t know her intent, but it’s not hard to guess she’s here to exact some kind of revenge on the comarré. I’m sure Tatiana blames her for what went down at the Dominus ball.”

“Which we sent her to. Look, about Chrysabelle…” He hesitated, almost afraid to stir the pot further. “What’s the KM’s stance on her since she didn’t bring the baby back?” They’d threatened to strip the gold from the ring of sorrows out of her skin if she failed on that mission, which she had.

“With Tatiana in town, we’re going to let things ride.” His shock must have registered on his face more than he realized since Annika continued. “Trust me, the KM aren’t going soft, but the grand masters believe the ring’s power might give the comarré the edge she needs to take Tatiana out once and for all.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Annika stared into the street below. “You’re assuming she’ll live through a fight with Tatiana.”

“She’s done it before.”

“She’s had the vampire with her.” Annika faced him again. “But we both know that situation’s changed, don’t we?”

He played dumb, something he hated to do, especially with his sector chief. “What do you mean?”

“We know he’s still alive and we know something’s changed between them. That’s all I can say.” Then she dipped her head toward the County Coroner’s truck that had just arrived on the street. “Who do you think is responsible for these murders?”

“Not Mal.”

She raised one brow over the rim of her sunglasses. “It wouldn’t take much to return him to his previous state. Especially if he and the comarré have parted ways.”

“They haven’t. I just spoke to her and that’s not the case.” Was it? After everything Chrysabelle had said and the way she’d been acting, he wasn’t so sure.

She shrugged. “Keep an eye out. That’s the only directive I’m giving you for now.” She stepped back from the lookout point. Her wings unfurled through the pleats in her jacket. “Just don’t be surprised if our killer turns out to be someone we already know.”

“Shall I hold dinner, Maddoc?” Isaiah asked.

Fi frowned. This dinner was specifically for Remo to get to know them better, but he wasn’t here yet. Not a great start.

Doc looked at his watch. “No. Everyone else made it on time.”

Barasa cleared his throat. “Maybe we could wait another minute?”

“Absolutely,” Fi answered, shooting Doc a look. He hadn’t been a fan of this idea, but she was determined to give it a go.

Frowning, Doc rolled his eyes. “Fine. Two more minutes and that’s it.”

“More than generous,” Omur added.

“Very good, Maddoc.” Isaiah nodded. “I’ll keep things warm.” He headed back to the kitchen, passing Channa, a female varcolai who’d been brought in to help serve.

She brought two wine decanters to the bar. “Can I pour anyone a glass?”

“A small glass of white,” Fi answered. A little wine might help take the edge off, plus with Doc here, she wasn’t as worried about drinking with Remo around.

A chime sounded, indicating the elevator was on its way up.

Isaiah reappeared on his way to the foyer. “At last, our missing guest.”

“About time,” Doc said. Omur and Barasa snorted in agreement.

“Be nice,” Fi said softly. “We’re trying to make friends.”

Doc patted her hand. “I know. You’re right. Sorry—”

“Out of my way.” Remo stormed into the room, eyes gold with anger. “You.” He pointed at Fi. “You murdered my sister and I have proof.”

Fi’s mouth gaped open. “What?”

Doc and his council members jumped up as Isaiah came running in after Remo. Doc stepped in front of Fi, flaring his arms out and clenching his fists. “You better step back before I—”

“Before you what? Murder me too? Look at my hand,” Remo shouted. “Look at it.” Fi stood as he shoved his palm at Doc. Tiny inflamed cuts covered it. The rest of the skin looked sunburned.

Doc’s lip curled. “What does that prove?”

“Silver poisoning.” Remo glared at Fi. “She gave me the vial of sand from the arena. I accidently crushed it in my hand.” His pupils thinned to vertical slits. “That’s when I felt the silver burning into the cuts. The sand was tainted. The fight was never fair.”

Omur and Barasa exchanged a look. Doc shook his head. “This is as much news to us as it is to you.”

“Your lies won’t save her.” Remo growled low and threatening. “Pride law says a life for a life.” He pointed to Fi. “And I call for hers.” Then he lunged toward her like he intended to make that happen.

Barasa and Omur leaped forward, grabbing his arms and taking him to the ground. Doc hoisted Fi over his shoulder and hurtled the couch. “Isaiah, now.”

The butler followed them. Doc ran into the bedroom. Isaiah shut the door after them. “What can I do?”

Doc put Fi on her feet. “Tell her driver to meet her downstairs right now.” He turned to her as Isaiah slipped out to call for the car. “Go to Chrysabelle’s. It’s the safest place I can think of. I’ll make this go away.”

“Is what he said true?” She stared into Doc’s eyes, trying to find answers. “Was the fight unfair?”

Something broke, then someone cursed. Doc glanced at the door. “We don’t have time for this—”

“Yes, we do.” She grabbed his arm. “Answer me.” His hesitation told her all she needed to know. “Who do you think did this?”

“No idea, but we’ll figure it out.”

“If the fight was unfair, then I didn’t really win, did I?” She sat on the bed, her head reeling with the news. “Which means I’m not really qualified to be your mate.”

“Cripes, Fi, of course you are. A hundred percent.” He pulled her back to her feet. More sounds of scuffling and shouting carried through the closed door. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise, but right now I need you safe, okay? The car should be downstairs waiting for you.” He hugged her hard. “I love you, baby. Don’t worry.”

“I love you, too.” Her gut ached like she’d been sucker punched, but she went ghost and slipped into the night unable to shake the feeling she might never see Doc again.

“I’ll only be gone for as long as I have to.” Chrysabelle pulled on a tan leather jacket over the pale green sweater and jeans that were part of her new look.

Damian nodded. “Take whatever time you need. We’ll be fine.”

“Please, move into the house.” She looked past him and out into the courtyard where Jerem was putting her roller bag into the trunk of the car. She glanced at the guesthouse before putting her hands on her hips and turning back to her brother. “Amylia can have the whole guesthouse to herself and you can get settled in here without me in your way.”

“You’ve never been in my way.” He smiled, but then his eyes narrowed and he moved to see past her. “You expecting company?”

“No.” A car pulled through the estate’s open gates. “That’s Fi’s car.”

Sure enough, the car stopped and Fi jumped out. The moment she saw Chrysabelle she broke into a run. “Are you leaving? Wait, don’t go yet.”

The panic in Fi’s eyes alarmed Chrysabelle. “I am, but I can wait. What’s up?”

Fi came to a stop beside her. “I just found out someone put silver dust in the arena sand where I fought Heaven.” She looked on the verge of tears. “That means I didn’t win fair and square and now Heaven’s brother is calling for my death to make things right.”

“Pride law,” Chrysabelle whispered. “How awful. What can I do to help?”

“Let me stay here?” Fi shook her head. “It’s not safe for me at pride headquarters right now.”

“Chrys, take her with you to New Orleans.” Damian nodded toward the car. “Not like you don’t have room and getting her out of town might be the best thing.”

Fi’s eyes brightened. “If you’re going there to do what I think you’re going there to do, you should totally let me come.”

Chrysabelle bit her lip. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be responsible for what might happen.”

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Fi said.

Chrysabelle raised a brow. “I don’t think one sparring session qualifies you as being able to take care of yourself.”

“Please.” Fi sniffed. “Nothing can touch me when I go ghost. Which I promise to do if anything bad happens.”

“C’mon, Chrys,” Damian said. “Let her go.”

Chrysabelle said, “Fine,” but a loud rumbling drowned her out.

“Hey,” Jerem yelled. “Creek’s here.”

The KM parked his motorcycle beside Chrysabelle’s sedan, notching his kickstand into place. He slipped his helmet off as he walked toward them. “Chrysabelle, can I have a word with you alone?”

“Sure.” Creek’s expression held no joy. Something was wrong. Chrysabelle shivered. “Fi, why don’t you go inside with Damian and see if Velimai can pack you some snacks for the trip.”

“So I can go?”

“Yes.” Chrysabelle was already walking to meet
Creek. She spoke to him as soon as Fi shut the front door. “What’s going on?”

“Bad news. There have been two humans murdered, both by vampires, and the KM think Mal’s to blame.”

Her spine went cold. “Why would they think that?”

“Because they know something’s changed between you two. You didn’t give me the full story the other day, did you?”

“No.” She sighed. “It’s not something I want to get into, especially if I can make it go away.”

“That’s not all.” He shot a look at her car. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I have some out-of-town business to take care of.” Out-of-town business that would hopefully bring Mal back to her.

“Good, that’s good.”

“Why?”

He glanced at the gate behind him before answering her. “Because as of last night, Tatiana is back in Paradise City.”

M
al stared hard at the woman who’d once been his wife. And his captor. “You want me to kill a baby? You should know better than to ask me that.”

Tatiana shook her head, her fingers again clutching the locket around her neck. “She’s not a child any longer. The ancient ones fed her their blood and now she’s an adult. More than that, she’s a monster vampire. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Even the ancients are afraid of her.”

He walked back toward the bed. This game of Tatiana’s was starting to bore him. He had a comarré to deal with. “You’re not as smart as you look, are you? Telling me the ancients are afraid of her isn’t a great way to motivate me to the cause.”

Desperation began to creep in around her eyes. He knew that look. He’d seen it many times before. If her next plea didn’t work, she’d try to seduce him to her will. “The beast within you is stronger than she is. Would it be an easy kill? Perhaps not, but when’s the last time the beast had a worthy opponent?” She smiled and took a few steps toward him, sashaying her hips. “You might even enjoy it.”

He sat on the bed, giving her words some actual thought. “And if I do this, I get my noble status back. No other strings.”

“No strings, but more than that.” She trailed her fingers on the covers as she moved toward him. “I’ll give you everything you’ve been missing. Think of it, the two of us, ruling the noble houses.” She stopped when her knees touched his thigh. “Like the old days, but with more power and no fear of reprisal.”

“You were the only thing I had to fear back then.”

She looked stricken. “Lord Ivan forced me into betraying you. I never would have done anything to hurt you. I did it to protect you. To keep them from killing you.” She tipped her head coyly. “I loved you, Malkolm.”

“Fat lot of good that did me.” He was almost enjoying this. Almost. “Why should I trust you now?”

“Because having a baby to look after, even for the short time I had Lilith, made me realize that…” She looked down and swallowed, letting a little half-sob escape her lips. “I missed what we had when we were a family.”

Son of a priest, she was a good actress. She could have made a fortune on the stage. He leaned back and studied her. “I don’t know.” Actually, he did. He’d do it because it was a chance to regain everything he’d lost. “I need some kind of proof.”

She reached up and opened the locket around her neck, then lifted the portrait so he could better see it.

Sophia. A tiny part of him felt ill.

Tatiana raised the portrait higher. “On Sophia’s good name, I promise I will do nothing to harm you.”

He refused to look at the picture. Couldn’t, really. Instead, he stood and pushed past her to walk to the other side of the room. “I’ll do it, but on my terms.”