Out for Blood (36 page)

Read Out for Blood Online

Authors: Kristen Painter

Tags: #Fiction / Fantasy - Contemporary, #Contemporary, #paranormal, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Fiction / Fantasy - Paranormal, #Fiction / Romance - Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Out for Blood
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A few minutes later, they were on board. Mortalis secured the door. “I’ll be in the cockpit with Amery if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Chrysabelle took the seat next to Mal and fastened her safety belt. Her arm pushed against his as she got comfortable. The movement stirred a fresh waft of her enticing perfume around him.

He growled softly, opening his mouth to let that velvet scent tease across his tongue.

She smiled shyly. “You need to feed. We’ll take care of that as soon as we’re up, okay?”

“I’m…” He was about to say
fine
, but that wasn’t the truth. He
did
need to feed.
Drink her, drain her, all of her.
“When we’re up.” He tipped his head back against the seat as the jet taxied out of the hangar. How was he going to go back to drinking her blood out of a glass after tasting it from her vein?

He closed his eyes, lost in the thought of being able to pull her into his arms and hold her as he sank his teeth into the pale expanse of her gilded throat, the way she’d clutch him and inhale, the way their bodies—He abruptly opened his eyes and shifted in his seat. That line of thought was going to make for a very long plane ride.

Chrysabelle laid her hand on his arm as the plane shot forward and the g-force of liftoff pushed them into their seats. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Just thinking.”

“About how you’d rather bite me again than drink from a glass?” She laughed. “No, I can’t read minds, but your eyes are about as silver as a new coin and if your face shifts any further, you might break a bone.”

He forced his human features back into place. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Her lids lowered and one side of her mouth tipped up. “I was thinking about it, too.”

Her words sent a bolt of heat into his belly. He squelched it. “No point in thinking about it. Can’t happen. I won’t risk killing you.”

“Are you sure?” Her hands gripped the armrests. “We did it once and I’m still alive.” The plane started to level out. “Besides, even if you do accidentally drink too much, you can’t kill me. You might knock me out for a day or two, but then I’ll be as good as new.”

He twisted to face her. “I was chained up. That’s not the same as being in a confined space with me. And we don’t know that you’ll survive dying again. You’re assuming that.” He glared at her. “If you’re going into this confrontation with Tatiana thinking it’s okay to die, you’d better get your head on straight. You take one foolish chance and I will pull you out of there so fast—”

She clamped her hand over his mouth until he stopped talking. “There’s the Mal I’m used to. Bossing me around, telling me what to do. You must have been chomping at the bit, huh? Feel better now that you’ve gotten that out?”

“I’m serious.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she inhaled. “Yes, I know you are. I don’t plan on taking any unnecessary chances, but this isn’t just Tatiana we’re about to face. It’s the upper crust of vampire nobility. Something goes wrong and neither of us is getting out of there alive, which is why you need to keep your strength up. You need to be able to scatter in case that’s the only option you have left.”

“I won’t leave you behind.”
Too bad.

“You won’t have to.” She reached up and cupped her hand against his cheek. “I kind of missed bossy Mal.”

“I’m not biting you.”
Do. Drain her.

She patted his cheek. “Yes, you are. If things go poorly, Mortalis can slip inside you and pull you off me. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” She unlocked her safety belt and got up. “I’ll be right back.”

“Chrysabelle.” But she kept walking until she reached the cockpit. Fresh fear rose up like bile in his throat. He agreed that being at full power for what they were about to face was important, but not at her expense. What if the beast took over? Could Mortalis wrest control of that much darkness? He looked out the window into the pitch-black night. The face reflected back was the ugly reminder of just how much of a monster he was. He turned away. Laughter rang in his head.

Doing this was a very bad idea.
Do it do it do it.
The voices were proof of that.

Chrysabelle came out of the cockpit, Mortalis behind her. Mal shook his head slowly and stared at the tan carpeting covering the walkway, his jaw popping to one side.

She sat beside him, reaching for his hand. “Ready?”

He pulled away. “No.”

Mortalis took the seat opposite them. “It would be better to try this now before you need the blood so badly your control is undermined.”

“It would be better not to do this at all.”

“I won’t let you hurt her.”

Mal got out of his seat. “You think you can control what’s inside me?”

Mortalis scratched one of his horns. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

Something nudged Creek’s side. He opened his eyes, wondering if his lids were the only part of him that didn’t hurt.

“What the hell happened to you?” A black shadow stood over him. Annika.

Slowly, he pushed to his knees. Shards of glass pinged to the concrete. He blew out a slow breath, his insides aching like they were sunburned. Yahla had done a number on him when she’d been in there. “Damn it. What time is it?”

“Couple hours after sunset. Why?”

He’d been out too long. Hopefully Yahla was still recovering from her last attempt to possess him. That would buy him some time. Whether or not it would be enough time remained to be seen. He got to his feet and brushed his hand over his head, loosening one last splinter of glass from his Mohawk. “I gotta go.”

“Not until you answer some questions.”

A little ambient light spilled through the broken skylight, turning the floor of the old mechanics shop into diamonds. “My grandmother’s in trouble. I have to go help her.”

“Spent the grocery money on bingo again?” Annika smiled.

He narrowed his eyes at her. Up until that point, he’d almost started to like Annika. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insult my grandmother, because I have a thing about not hitting women.”

Her smile disappeared. “Sorry. I didn’t—I like your grandmother. What kind of trouble could she be in?”

There was no point in hiding what had happened. “Yahla.”

“What’s that?”

“The woman you smelled on me the first time you visited.” He snagged his motorcycle helmet off the worktable. “I’m pretty sure she’s going after my grandmother to get revenge on me.”

“Why?”

“Long story I don’t have time for.” He grabbed his crossbow and his halm.

“A fight? I like a good fight.” Annika’s smile returned. “When do we leave?”

“Sure, you can come, thanks for asking.” He rolled his eyes as he went to open the door. Pushy women plagued his life. Hopefully after tonight, there’d be one less.

“This Yahla, is she really that dangerous?”

He stopped, hand poised above the door’s locks, and turned to look at her. “Argent killed her once. It didn’t take.”

Annika’s brows lifted above her permanent shades. “Argent was here? We were starting to think he was dead.”

“Oh, he’s dead all right.” Creek shoved the metal door back. “Yahla made sure of that.”

Annika followed after him. “Explain.”

He went back for the second helmet, glad for the wireless comms that would let them chat. “Ride with me. I’ll tell you on the way.”

By the time they got to his grandmother’s road, Annika knew everything that had happened with Yahla from the first time Creek had met her. He slowed the bike as they approached the little house. Annika’s arms loosened from his waist. Up ahead, his grandmother’s metal roof came into view above the mangroves and pepper trees lining the dirt road. The metal gleamed in the starlight and a soft curl of smoke drifted from the chimney pipe. Everything appeared normal, but he knew with Yahla, normal meant nothing.

He parked the V-Rod at the end of the long driveway and slipped his helmet off, then leaned back to Annika. “Stay quiet.”

She nodded, removed her helmet, and got off the bike. He did the same, then motioned for her to follow him. Mawmaw’s porch light brightened the night enough that he could see perfectly. He hugged the line of sawgrass and pines that bordered the property line. After that, it dropped off into impassable swampland. He kept an eye out for gators, pythons, and anything else he didn’t want to step on.

Together they crept toward the back of the house. It was too quiet. The glades at night should be loud with buzzing insects, croaking frogs, and gator calls, but all he could hear was Annika’s breathing. Even Pip hadn’t barked to announce their arrival.

A yell pierced the quiet. Mawmaw’s voice. He ran for the back porch, Annika behind him. No longer caring about being quiet, he sprinted up the steps and skidded to a stop.

The sliding door was open and half off its track. Just in front of it, like she’d almost gotten inside, Mawmaw sprawled on her stomach, one arm stretched toward the sawed-off pool cue his grandfather used to carry around in his pickup truck.

“Mawmaw, what happened?” He started forward, but the air above her smudged with smoke and feathers.

Yahla stepped out of the house, cocked her head at him, and frowned. “You are late.”

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

 

F
rom what Tatiana could see,
achtice’s Primoris Domus occupied a slightly smaller estate than Corvinestri’s but was no less grandly appointed. The center hall of the main building, the only one she and Daci would be allowed entrance to, dripped with crystal, artwork, and gilding just as the comarré estate in Corvinestri did. Obscene, really.

The woman in charge here, Madame Vilma or Velma or something, was just as uptight, just as militant about them not stepping a foot beyond the center hall. Apparently, Syler’s insistence that Daci be allowed to purchase a comar despite there being no prior appointment had flustered her. As if Tatiana and Daci would even want to see more of the place. Tatiana had been down the halls of the Corvinestri house. Those dull little cells held no attraction.

She snorted softly.

“What is it?” Daci asked.

“How these comarré live and the way they act considering how well they’re paid.” She shook her head. “Look at this luxury. And for what? A little blood? A little power?” She leaned into the brocade sofa and crossed her arms. “And they call us parasites.”

“Ladies.” The voice came from behind them. Daci twisted in her seat. Tatiana merely lifted enough to look over the back of the sofa. The comarré housemother stood waiting. Had she heard what Tatiana had said? Not that it mattered, except she might further inflate the comar’s blood rights. “My available comars will be out shortly. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you,” Daci answered. “Just the comars.”

The woman nodded her blond head and disappeared down a hall. Daci leaned in. “How much do you think this is going to cost me?”

“As much as they can get out of you. Primoris Domus comarré are the most expensive and the best quality.”

“Which is why they’re the only house allowed within vampire city limits. I know that, but no one ever really talks about how much it takes to purchase blood rights.”

“That’s a requirement of the paperwork you’ll sign. You agree not to reveal what you’ve spent.” Tatiana rolled her eyes. “That’s part of their
mystique
.” She thought for a moment. “We could always go outside the city to one of the lesser houses, but I’m not sure we have that kind of time here in
achtice. Maybe when we get home to Corvinestri?”

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