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

by Painter, Kristen

  Snarling as Dominic strode out of the office, Ronan headed for the couch. Doc faked a moan as Ronan released his feet and then reached to his belt to unhook the leg chains. Thank you, Mother Bast. Doc shoved his knee into Ronan’s head with as much strength as he could gather, rolling himself off the couch and onto Ronan.

  With his now-freed hands, he grabbed Ronan by the ears and slammed his head into the floor until the fringe stopped twitching. Then Doc dragged him to Dominic’s desk and used the leg shackles to attach Ronan to one of the carved legs. It wouldn’t keep Ronan from escaping when he came to, but it would slow him down. Any damage done to Dominic’s beloved desk was just a bonus.

  He bolted from the office and headed for the employee exit that Ronan had meant to take. It was risky, but time mattered. As soon as Doc reached the door, he yanked it open and ran through.

  Something tripped him and he fell hard onto his hands and knees. He turned to see what he’d stumbled over as the smell of death rose up around him.

  Blocking the entrance was the body of wolf, a dark pool of liquid framing her familiar shape. Mia. Was that what Dominic had meant about the consequences of crossing him?

  Doc’s body went taut with rage. All deals were off.

  Tatiana waited by the car for Octavian. He’d just returned from dropping the shifter’s body at the nightclub, something she hoped would divert the attention of the comarré’s friends. Now Tatiana would capture the comarré. Octavian wanted to try his hand at making her talk. Tatiana smiled. Her child was so eager. If she had a heart, it would have warmed with his enthusiasm.

  The property gates opened and Lord Ivan’s sedan pulled into the drive. The vehicle rolled to a stop and he stepped out, wobbling slightly. He lurched forward, grinning like the fool he was. Still, the expression seemed woefully out of place on his normally austere face.

  ‘Home so soon?’ Tatiana asked. She’d erroneously expected him to stay out until dawn. ‘The night has barely begun.’ And she had much to accomplish.

  Ivan laughed. ‘I’ve forgotten the wicked pleasure of human blood. How the substances they douse themselves in can affect our kind.’ He hiccupped. ‘I’ve not only drunk my fill, but also gotten extraordinarily drunk.’ His brow rumpled in thought. ‘It seems I may have also imbibed an generous amount of narcotics.’

  He laughed again, his voice high-pitched and verging on giggly. ‘I think I can hear the grass growing.’

  Octavian came out of the house. ‘All ready to go after the comarré,’ he announced, then paused when he saw Ivan. He frowned apologetically at Tatiana. ‘I didn’t realize … ’

  Ivan staggered toward Octavian, who folded in on himself like a child awaiting punishment. ‘What’s this? Tatiana’s lapdog is now one of the family?’

  Tatiana braced for the rebuke. ‘Yes. I needed more help than Octavian could give me in human form. I thought it best—’

  Ivan clapped Octavian on the back. ‘Splendid! Welcome to the fold, old man.’ He collapsed in a fit of soundless laughter.

  Octavian caught Tatiana’s gaze and lifted an eyebrow. She shrugged in response. She’d never seen Ivan like this, but then she wasn’t aware that he’d had anything but comarré blood in his system for ages. Human blood carried consequences. If the host had indulged in alcohol or drugs of any kind, the vampire who drank from them would feel the effects as well. Obviously.

  Ivan straightened to wipe the tears from his eyes. Then a curious look crossed his face. ‘Say, did you mention you were going after the comarré?’

  Tatiana angled a look at Octavian, but what was done was done. ‘Yes, Lord Ivan. The Nothos located her. We were just on our way to retrieve her and bring her back to—’

  Ivan clapped his hands, then nearly skipped to the car Tatiana stood beside. ‘Marvelous! Let’s go. I’m starving.’

  She exhaled a ragged breath. ‘I thought you were full? We can’t drain the comarré until she gives us the necessary information.’

  ‘Of course, wouldn’t dream of it. Just a taste, then.’ He half fell, half slid into the car.

  Out of his sight, she rolled her eyes at Octavian. This was not how she’d planned to do this. At least intoxicated Ivan was easier to handle than lord-of-all-he-surveyed Ivan. She gestured to Octavian. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘But … ’ He nodded at the car, clearly indicating their unexpected passenger.

  She shrugged and shook her head. She had a feeling that even in this state, Ivan could turn vicious if provoked. Telling him he couldn’t come meant risking him taking his anger out on Octavian. There was no choice but to let Ivan accompany them. ‘I can handle him.’

  Octavian sighed in acceptance, but the tightness around his mouth betrayed his nerves.

  An hour later, he pulled the car onto the shoulder in the shadow between two streetlights outside the comarré’s estate. She’d persuaded Ivan to stay in the car until they came back with the comarré. Octavian turned off the engine and got out. She joined him, both of them keeping close to the wall.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  Tatiana nodded and closed her eyes, picturing the one person she was sure could get the comarré to come out of the house. Her former husband. Power swept through her and she opened her eyes. Judging by Octavian’s face, the transformation was successful. ‘Let’s go.’ Her voice came out in Malkolm’s low growl.

  Octavian swallowed. Was Malkolm that intimidating?

  The soft whir of mechanics lilted through the night air. The estate’s gate opened. She and Octavian flattened against the wall. A car pulled out and as it turned through the streetlamp’s pool of light, she caught the face of the man whose body she currently wore. The comarré sat next to him. She caught sight of a third person, but she didn’t recognize him.

  ‘Bloody hell. Back in the car. Follow them.’

  Octavian kept up without being too close. If they knew they were being followed, they either didn’t care or were leading her somewhere on purpose.

  Ivan fell asleep, a sure sign his system was not handling the kine drugs very well. Vampires never voluntarily slept at night.

  Twenty minutes into the trip and she knew exactly where they were headed. Octavian glanced into the rearview mirror, making eye contact. ‘Seven.’

  ‘Indeed.’ She cursed under her breath. With the shifter girl dead, she no longer had a cover to go in under. ‘Park close to them. We’ll wait in the car.’

  He canted his head toward Ivan’s slumped form. ‘He’s a lot of help.’

  She flared her nostrils in disgust. ‘Isn’t he, though?’ Too bad she couldn’t just open the door and shove him out. Maybe she’d get lucky and he’d sleep where he fell until the sun came up and flamed him to ash. Wouldn’t that be nice—

  ‘Tatiana?’

  Apparently, Octavian had said something. ‘What?’

  ‘We’ve arrived.’

  So they had. Up ahead, Malkolm, the comarré, and the other man got out of their car. Octavian had parked two lengths behind. She leaned back into her seat and prepared to wait. Already she itched for activity. If idle hands were the devil’s workshop, she was ready to open a factory.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chrysabelle stayed between Mal and Creek but kept her eye on the KM. There was no telling how the crowd might react to him. Humans had only just begun to work at Seven. Human patrons were rarer still and then only as the guest of an other-natural. She saw no one on the floor she recognized, including Pasha and Satima.

  Mal pulled them into one of the quieter corners. ‘We need to go to Dominic’s office, but you waltz in there with a slayer and you’re going to make enemies.’

  Chrysabelle sighed. ‘Mal, no one knows what he is.’

  Mal narrowed his eyes. ‘Dominic will know he’s not exactly human.’

  ‘Hey, no big deal.’ Creek crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. ‘I can stay out here.’ His gaze wandered over the crowd, taking in the patrons like he was cataloging them. ‘What’s with those comarr�
�?’

  Chrysabelle didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. ‘They’re counterfeits. The vampire who owns this club is St. Germain.’

  ‘Interesting use of alchemy,’ Creek said. ‘Do the patrons know they’re fake?’

  ‘I don’t think the patrons care.’ She faced Mal. ‘I’ll take responsibility for bringing him in.’

  Mal shrugged. ‘Lead the way. I’m just here for Doc.’ He tensed suddenly, his body straightening, his gaze zeroing in on something over her shoulder. He swore softly.

  She turned to see what had caused such a reaction.

  Katsumi strolled toward them, her eyes silver.

  Behind Chrysabelle, Mal cursed again. ‘Dominic’s a fool.’

  ‘Agreed.’ There was only one explanation for Katsumi looking the way she did. ‘Navitas.’

  Katsumi saw them, smiled slightly, and headed their way. She stared intently at Creek but acted as though he was no one of importance when she stopped before them. ‘Malkolm, Chrysabelle, nice to see you.’

  Nice to see you? Maybe Dominic had turned Katsumi into a symbot. Mal snorted as if he were thinking the same thing. ‘Is Dominic here? We were hoping to speak with him.’

  Katsumi’s smile didn’t waver. ‘I’m sorry, he’s not available. Is there something I can help you with?’

  Mal stepped forward. ‘What’s going on with you? Last time I saw you, you were in rough shape.’

  Her nostrils flared and she swallowed, but somehow she kept her perma-grin in place. ‘I am fine. As you can see.’

  Chrysabelle elbowed Mal aside. ‘Where can we find Dominic? This is important.’

  Katsumi looked at her, a hunger in her eyes Chrysabelle found soulfully disturbing. ‘I assure you, he is nowhere you can reach him. I would be happy to help—’

  Mal interrupted. ‘Then how about you tell us where Ronan is?’

  A flicker of something passed through Katsumi’s gaze. Her mouth thinned to a straight line. ‘I’m sorry, but I cannot help you. Come back tomorrow.’ She bowed slightly and hurried off.

  ‘That was helpful,’ Creek muttered. ‘You two are well liked, I see.’

  Chrysabelle was about to say something when the glint of a silver-tipped horn sparkled at her. ‘Mortalis.’ She pointed across the room. ‘Mal, see if you can get him to help us.’

  Mal took off through the crowd, returning a few minutes later with Mortalis in tow. Unfortunately, Katsumi was right behind them. Mortalis shook his head very slightly as if to indicate he couldn’t help them.

  Katsumi forced herself between Mal and Mortalis. ‘I’ve told you Dominic isn’t available. I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately.’

  ‘We’re not going anywhere until we get some answers,’ Mal said.

  ‘You leave me no choice.’ Katsumi turned to Mortalis. ‘Escort them out. Tell the front door they are not to be let in again this evening.’

  The shadeux nodded and put his arms up as a barrier between them and the club. ‘I’ll see you to the front.’

  Katsumi stayed put as Mortalis herded them out the way they’d come. Heads turned and curious stares followed them. ‘Keep moving,’ Mortalis whispered. ‘I’ll explain when we’re clear.’

  Once they were beyond the double dragon doors, he took them off to the side of the wide hall. ‘I take it you’re looking for Doc. He was here. Ronan snagged him. Loaded him up with ketamine and brought him back to Dominic.’

  ‘What?’ Chrysabelle asked. ‘Why?’

  Mortalis sighed. ‘Doc stole Dominic’s blood. And gave it to Aliza.’

  ‘That damned fool.’ Mal shook his head in disgust. ‘I knew he was going to do something stupid.’

  Creek nodded. ‘That cat’s got some big ones.’

  Mortalis narrowed his eyes. ‘Who are you? I assumed you were okay since Mal and Chrysabelle don’t seem to mind your company, but I’d like a name at least.’

  ‘Creek,’ Chrysabelle said impatiently. ‘Back to Doc. Where is he?’

  ‘Doc said Aliza promised to help make things right with Fiona if he brought her Dominic’s blood. So now Dominic and Ronan are escorting Doc out to Aliza’s to give him a shot at getting the blood back.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen Dominic so angry.’

  No wonder Doc hadn’t wanted to tell her what was going on when he’d come to her house. And no wonder he’d wanted to stay with her. Where else could he have gone that would be vampire-free? He knew she’d adhered to her mother’s policy of not giving invitations.

  Mal’s eyes were almost completely silver and the muscle in his jaw ticked. ‘And you were just going to let them take him out there without telling me?’ He lunged forward, his voice menacing. ‘You know they’re going to kill him.’

  A sharp pain pierced Chrysabelle’s heart. She grabbed Mal’s arm. ‘We’ll go after him.’

  ‘Yes, we will,’ Mal said, still looking to Mortalis.

  ‘You have no idea what I’m dealing with here. I have more reports of dead fringe than I can follow up on.’ The shadeux held his ground. ‘Look, I was about to head out to tell you, but … ’ Mortalis looked away, his eyes darkening. ‘Mia’s body was found dumped at the employee entrance. Her throat was slit.’

  Mal’s mouth dropped. The tension visibly drained from his body. ‘Mia as in Doc’s old girlfriend? She worked here as a bartender, right?’

  Chrysabelle’s hand went to her mouth. This was the first she’d heard about Mia or had a glimpse of Doc’s past.

  Mortalis nodded. ‘Doc found her when he tried to escape. Ronan recaptured him in the alley. Doc had her in his arms.’ Mortalis cleared his throat. ‘You should go. There’s time to catch them.’

  Mal shook his head. ‘I don’t know how to get to Aliza’s. You’ll have to come with us.’

  ‘I can’t. Not with Katsumi watching me like a hawk.’

  Creek stepped forward. ‘Her coven lives in those stilt houses out in the Glades, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mortalis answered.

  ‘I can guide you,’ Creek said. ‘I know that area. My grandmother lives out there.’

  ‘Great,’ Chrysabelle said. ‘Let’s get moving.’ All that mattered was saving Doc’s life.

  Mal had been cautious about letting Creek drive, but it had been easier than trying to follow the KM’s directions through the Glades’ maze of dirt roads while the voices attempted to throw Mal off track.

  Creek parked the car and looked over at him. ‘Let me do the talking.’

  ‘Your turf, your show.’ Mal popped the car door and slid out. The water here smelled a lot cleaner than that surrounding the freighter. Chrysabelle followed from the backseat, staying near Mal.

  ‘Okay.’ Creek nodded. ‘Stay here until I call.’

  Mal leaned against the car, still ready to move at a split second’s notice. ‘I’ll be watching. And listening.’

  ‘I get it. You don’t trust me yet. The feeling’s mutual.’ Creek glanced at Chrysabelle but she didn’t say anything. ‘I didn’t sign on to the KM with the thought that I’d be traipsing through the Glades trying to rescue a shifter who’d done one of the stupidest things I can think of, so cut me some slack.’

  ‘He’s right.’ Chrysabelle put her hand on Mal’s arm. ‘We’ll be fine here.’

  ‘Shouldn’t take long.’ Creek approached the cabin up ahead cautiously. The place was dark. Maybe whoever owned it wasn’t home. Or didn’t like Creek. Or hates vampires.

  Mal leaned down to Chrysabelle. ‘Maybe I should have gone.’

  ‘I can hear you,’ Creek muttered. Chrysabelle nudged Mal with her elbow and gave him a disapproving but slightly amused look. Mal shut out the droning voices and listened as Creek walked onto the cabin’s porch.

  Creek knocked and stood back to wait. Footsteps shuffled inside. The porch light came on and the door opened. The barrel of a Bushmaster assault rifle greeted him. Mal nodded. He’d been right about the owner not liking him.

  Creek held up his hands. ‘Slim Jim, it’s
Creek.’

  Slim Jim stepped out onto the porch wearing overalls and a Florida Gators ball cap. The man was almost as short as he was wide with more gray than rust in his beard. He grinned, showing off a missing tooth. Slim Jim tipped the Bushmaster back onto his shoulder and chuckled. ‘Well, I’ll be. Little Tommie Creek.’

  Tommie? Mal’s chagrin at being wrong was salved with that new slip of info.

  Slim Jim scratched underneath his cap. ‘How are you, son? Last I heard you were doing a stretch at FSP.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I’m on parole now.’

  Too bad he hadn’t stayed there.

  Slim Jim clucked his tongue. ‘Damn shame, that business. Shoulda shot the cuss myself.’ He squinted, making his tiny eyes almost disappear. ‘What brings you round here so late? You in trouble?’

  ‘You might say that.’

  ‘Lot of that going around. I just rented a boat to another fella seemed like he was in a fix.’

  Creek held his hand about six inches above his head. ‘Tall, skin like midnight?’

  Slim Jim nodded. ‘You know Doc?’

  ‘A little. I’m more surprised you know him.’

  So was Mal, but then, Doc’s drug-delivery service must have taken him out here many times.

  Slim Jim continued. ‘I been rentin’ him boats for years. I know what he does, running the devil’s candy out to those witches, but times are hard. Little extra comes in handy.’

  Creek nodded. ‘Yes, sir, it does. Was there anyone else with him?’

  ‘You betcha. Two a them damn bloodsuckers. He didn’t seem that het up to have their company, neither.’

  ‘How long ago did they leave, and do you have a boat we can rent?’

  ‘About ten minutes ago, I guess.’ He paused. ‘We?’

  Creek turned and motioned with his hand at Mal and Chrysabelle. ‘I have some friends with me. They’re friends of Doc’s, too.’

  ‘Go first,’ Mal said to Chrysabelle. Chances were good no red-blooded man would shoot a beautiful woman until he at least found out her name. Mal waited until she was a few lengths ahead until he followed.