The swords fell to the ground. The looks on the faces around her grew more horrified as Ivan materialized behind the Mohawked kine standing beside the comarré. He clubbed the kine on the temple, catching him off guard and dropping him to the ground. Perhaps killing him. The kine’s heartbeat stopped. Ivan picked up the crossbow the male had been holding and hefted it. He smiled, seemingly pleased with the weapon.
Octavian appeared a few seconds after him, returning to his body at Tatiana’s side. She nodded to the witch. ‘My thanks for the invitation. Your timing was impeccable.’
‘Indeed.’ Lord Ivan brushed himself off as he looked around. ‘Although it still smells like the swamp in here.’ His lip curled. ‘Swamp witches. How utterly vile.’
The white witch sputtered. ‘I didn’t invite you in. Just him.’ She pointed to Malkolm, who glared daggers at Tatiana, but thanks to Ivan and a deftly aimed crossbow, he made no move.
‘Octavian, kick the comarré’s weapons out the door,’ Tatiana directed him. He moved around her and did as she asked, kicking them back through the kitchen and the open door. Twin splashes followed his actions.
‘Very good.’ Tatiana blew him a kiss on his return, then refocused her attention on the witch. ‘Stupid git. For all your magic, you don’t know enough to offer invites by name only? Such a novice mistake. When you said vampire, you flung wide the mystical door to those of us waiting on the other side.’
With a cry, the witch conjured a sphere of flames and hurled it at Tatiana. Octavian gasped. Instantly, Tatiana switched arms around the comarré’s neck, thrust her metal hand up as she flattened it into a shield, and deflected the fire back at the witch.
The witch ducked in time to avoid being burned. She stayed crouched on the floor near a male witch who’d been sprawled there when they’d entered.
With her knife fingers at the comarré’s throat again, Tatiana poured persuasion into her voice. ‘You will not do that again, will you?’
‘No,’ the witch whispered.
‘Good. Get up, witch. I wish to see this thing you’ve discussed performed.’
Confusion clouded the witch’s eyes. ‘You’re going to allow me to bring my daughter back?’
‘My fight is not with you. Proceed.’ Although Tatiana would never admit to such emotion, she knew the wrenching pain of losing a child and empathized with the witch. She studied the small group. ‘Any of you try anything and I will slit the comarré’s throat.’
‘Like you did Mia’s?’ the varcolai asked, his mouth twisting in rage.
‘Yes,’ Tatiana answered with a smile. ‘Exactly like that.’ She got the feeling the varcolai would have lunged if not for the blade at his throat. Someone in this room would be dead by sunrise, of that much she was sure.
The witch nodded and got to her feet. ‘I need some things to work the spell.’
‘Hurry,’ Tatiana snapped. Her sentimentality had its bounds.
The witch ran out of the room. Tatiana frowned at Malkolm. ‘Quite a motley crew you’ve gathered, husband.’
At the word, a flash of anger lit his eyes. He sneered. ‘Not under the pain of a second death will I acknowledge that title.’
She jerked her arm around the comarré’s neck, causing the girl to wheeze. ‘How about under the pain I could inflict on your little comarré whore?’ She laughed. ‘Or should I say the pain I will be inflicting?’ She smiled at the girl. ‘You’ll be coming with me when this game is over.’
‘No, Tatiana,’ the comarré rasped. ‘I won’t. When this is over, you’ll be a pile of ash.’
‘How dare you speak to her that way,’ Octavian snarled.
Tatiana gave him a reassuring look. ‘You may take your upset out on her later. Her threats are empty. I am in control of what happens now.’
The witch returned, ending the discussion. In her hands, a collection of vials and jars. She hurried toward the stone statue of her daughter and began mumbling words of little consequence. Witch magic was weak compared to the power the noble houses wielded.
As the witch began circling the statue with powders and earth and such, Tatiana nodded toward the other anathema, the one holding a knife to the varcolai’s throat, but directed her words to her faithful companion. ‘Octavian, procure that knife.’
Octavian took it from him with no small struggle and returned to her. The varcolai got up but didn’t move any farther. The anathema glared at Tatiana. ‘If Malkolm or Chrysabelle don’t kill you, I will.’
She ignored him and shoved the comarré toward Octavian. ‘Guard her.’
The girl flew out of her arms, flipping bone blades into her hands. Tatiana grabbed her around the neck again, making a metal collar with her hand as she’d done to the female fringe in the club, and lifted the comarré off the ground. ‘Drop the weapons.’
‘Not a chance.’ The girl kicked and slashed. One blade splintered against the metal.
‘You bore me.’ Tatiana shook the girl hard. Her head snapped back and the second blade dropped from her hand. A little more shaking and the girl went limp. Tatiana opened the collar. The girl fell to the ground in a boneless heap. ‘Octavian, take her into the other room and search her for the ring. Restrain her any way you see fit.’
Malkolm growled, watching as Octavian grabbed the comarré by the arm and dragged her back into the kitchen.
That accomplished, Tatiana strolled toward Malkolm. She could almost see the wisps of anger curling off him. She stood before him, enjoying the heat of his gaze, letting his fury fuel her pleasure. ‘You realize if she’d given me the ring, none of this would be happening.’
‘You’ll never get it. And if you hurt her—’
‘It touches me that you care for the girl, but your affections are foolishly spent on a servant.’
His jaw was so tightly clenched, his words came out in a gravelly slur. ‘I will kill you.’
She laughed as she turned to face the witch, still preparing her craft. ‘Tell me exactly what this spell of yours will do.’
Bent over her work, the witch answered, ‘The spell I am going to perform will loose the magic holding my daughter, but not dissolve it.’ She finished the circle of earth she’d drawn around the stone statue and started adding crystals at measured intervals. ‘The magic is too powerful. It must be given a new place to rest instead.’
‘And that new home is to be?’ Tatiana leaned forward in an attempt to encourage the witch to explain things more fully.
‘The one who caused this.’ The witch stopped work on a second earth circle, sat back on her haunches, and pointed at the anathema who’d been holding the varcolai hostage. ‘Dominic.’
‘Maronna! You cannot mean for me to take your daughter’s place,’ Dominic said.
‘Why not?’ the witch asked. She shook her head, the beads and shells sewn into her white dreadlocks rattling. ‘It’s what you deserve.’
Dominic’s face contorted. ‘The only one who deserved retribution was your daughter, for perverting my goods. I will not take her place.’
‘No, you won’t,’ Tatiana interrupted. What a serendipitous opportunity. ‘Malkolm will.’ She nodded to the witch, gesturing with her metal fingers to her errant husband. ‘Use the other anathema.’
‘Like hell,’ Malkolm snarled. ‘I had nothing to do with this.’
The witch shook her head. ‘No, he didn’t. My beef is with Dominic. He did this to my Evie.’
Dominic began to mutter in Italian again. Tatiana stomped her foot. ‘Witch, you will do what I say.’ She charged toward Malkolm. ‘And you will do what I tell you or your whore will die. Octavian, bring me the girl.’
He came out from the kitchen with the comarré over his shoulder. The girl had regained consciousness, but he’d used electrical cords to bind her upper arms against her body while her legs were secured at the calves and thighs. Once again, Octavian proved his usefulness. He deposited the girl at Tatiana’s feet.
‘Did she have the ring?’
‘Not on her
.’
Chrysabelle spat at Tatiana. ‘You’ll never get it. I’ll die before that happens.’
‘Yes, you will.’ Tatiana held her hand in the air and formed it into a thin, sharp blade. It gleamed in the light.
Malkolm stilled. ‘Don’t touch her. I’ll take Dominic’s place if you leave her alone.’
‘Just as I thought. How pathetic,’ Tatiana said. ‘Lord Ivan, would you be so kind as to escort my feeble ex-husband into his proper place?’
Ivan, still hefting the weapon he’d taken off the Mohawked kine, gave a short nod. ‘If it means this circus will be over sooner, then by all means.’ He stepped over the kine’s body and pointed the crossbow toward the unfinished circle. The kine reared up, yanked a blade from his boot, and jammed it into Ivan’s leg. With a yowl, Ivan twisted and pulled the bow’s trigger twice, putting a bolt through the kine’s shoulder and another through his thigh, pinning him to the floor. Cursing, he collapsed, unable to free himself.
‘Creek!’ the comarré cried out.
‘Bollocks,’ Ivan snarled, tugging the dagger from his thigh. ‘I could have sworn the kine was dead.’
So had Tatiana. He had no heartbeat or breath sounds. What human managed that? ‘Lord Ivan, if you could get Malkolm into the circle?’
‘Yes.’ He stared a second longer at the kine, now oozing the most bitter-scented blood Tatiana had ever smelled, before giving Malkolm a shove with the reloaded crossbow. ‘In you go.’
Malkolm refused to budge. ‘I owe you death.’
‘I’ll help you,’ the bleeding kine added.
Ivan sighed. ‘Such tedium.’ He goaded Malkolm with the bolt tip until he moved, and kept it up until Malkolm stood inside the circle of earth. ‘There,’ he said to the witch. ‘You have your pawn. Go about your business.’ Ivan kept the crossbow up and just at the edge of the magic circle as the witch finished her spell and placed her crystals.
Next, she extracted a vial of blood.
‘That’s mine,’ Dominic hissed.
Now in an almost trancelike state, the witch ignored him and added a drop of blood to each of the crystals, starting with the circle around her daughter.
Malkolm gazed at the comarré with such woeful eyes Tatiana thought she might lose her accounts right then and there. How had that lowly creature captured the affections of a man who’d once been the greatest fear of all five vampire families? It was as preposterous as the lamb seducing the lion. Malkolm should just eat her and get it over with. Bloody fool.
‘Per cruor quod terra, vita revert. Per cruor quod terra, vita revert. Per—’
‘Aliza,’ Malkolm hissed. ‘Don’t do this.’
‘Yes, Aliza,’ Tatiana crooned to the witch. ‘Do it.’
‘Cruor quod terra, vita revert.’ Aliza flicked a drop of blood onto the statue, then turned toward Malkolm. A brilliant white vapor leaked out of the statue. It reared back, reminding Tatiana of her late albino cobra, Nehebkau. Aliza dipped her finger in the blood and lifted it to shake a drop on Malkolm. The vapor shifted toward him as well. In a move faster than any human eye could follow, Malkolm jumped out of the circle, grabbed Ivan, and dropped him into it. Aliza released the drop of blood. It splattered Ivan’s chest.
The vapor struck, pouring into Ivan like quicksilver and catching him in a net of lightning. He opened his mouth to scream and froze that way. Lips curled back. Fangs extended. Hands clawing against the inevitable. Stone from head to toe.
Beside him, Aliza’s daughter, now flesh and blood, fell limply to the ground, coughing and gulping air in great gasps. ‘Ma,’ she whispered hoarsely.
Aliza gathered her child in her arms, tears streaming down her white skin. ‘Evie, Evie, Evie,’ she chanted over and over.
Bitter regret washed through Tatiana. There had been no saving her child. No magic words or sacred blood or second chances.
She straightened and took stock of the situation while the rest looked on in shock. Malkolm was unscathed, but in saving himself, he’d done her an enormous favor.
Ivan was out of the picture in a way she could never have even hoped for. She walked toward the statue of her Dominus. Aliza had brought her daughter out of it, which meant there was hope for Ivan yet.
That could not be. Ivan was all that stood between her and the next position of power she so desperately craved. The rest of the House of Tepes would have no choice but to side with her when she held the title of Dominus.
Hope had to be eliminated.
She forged her hand into a sledgehammer and with a cry that shook the house to its foundations, swung it round her body with the strength of centuries and slammed it into Ivan’s stone form.
The stone cracked slowly like ice, fractures webbing across his body. His pinky fell first. Then an arm. More chunks followed until rubble covered the floor.
She scooped up the largest remaining piece of his face and tucked it and a handful of smaller shards into her coat pocket. The council would want proof. And she wanted a souvenir of her latest victory.
‘Tatiana.’
She spun. Octavian’s face was awash in panic. The knife he held to the comarré’s throat trembled. ‘Don’t fear, my love. Malkolm has done us a great favor.’
‘No.’ He shook his head and pointed past the weeping witch and her daughter, toward the porch windows. ‘Look.’
And she did. Orange edged the horizon line.
Dawn had snuck up on them.
Chapter Thirty-four
With her hands behind her back and the distraction of dawn’s approach, Chrysabelle had managed to extract her Golgotha steel and saw through the electric cords binding her hands. She’d almost dropped the blade when Tatiana smashed Ivan to bits, but she’d hung on, just like she clung to the hope she might yet slip the blade into Tatiana’s chest.
She was about to yell for Mal and Dominic to get out while they still could when Tatiana grabbed her tunic front and hauled her to her feet. ‘I will come for you tomorrow and you will give me the ring.’ She tore off a piece of Chrysabelle’s tunic and stuffed it into her pocket. ‘There’s no point in running.’
Tatiana dropped Chrysabelle. Pain shot through her shoulder. Tatiana snapped her fingers at her companion and yelled, ‘Scatter.’ A moment later, a swarm of insects buzzed out of Aliza’s house and back into the swamp.
Mal was at her side instantly. He broke the rest of her bindings. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded, gently rolling her shoulder. ‘Yes, but I don’t think Creek is.’ He’d worked his thigh free of the bolt pinning it, but his shoulder was still stuck fast.
Mal didn’t bother looking. ‘How are you?’
‘You need to leave,’ she told him. ‘Dawn is coming.’
‘Not without you or Doc.’ Mal turned as if to grab his friend, but Dominic snatched the weapon Octavian had discarded and jumped on top of Doc, pressing the blade into his throat. ‘Daybreak or not, this isn’t over. There is still the matter of the blood I’m owed.’
‘You would die over the matter of a little blood?’ Doc snarled.
‘If need be, yes.’
‘Then go to ash.’ Doc stared at Aliza. ‘Forget his blood. You got what you wanted. You owe Fi help.’
Aliza nodded. ‘So I do.’ She kissed Evie’s head as she got to her feet. She dug in her pocket and produced a small bundle wrapped in white paper. She held it up so Doc could see it before tossing it in his direction. ‘Burn that and get her to pass through the smoke. Your Fi will be restored.’
Doc reached for the bundle but Dominic pressed the blade harder. Blood welled up around the metal. ‘The remainder of my blood, witch. Return it now. Or I will kill Maddoc.’
Aliza shook her head. ‘What do I care if the shifter lives or dies? The blood was my price for what he required. All of it. I’m not returning any of it.’
‘Then he dies.’ Dominic lifted slightly, as if prepping for the killing blow.
‘No!’ Chrysabelle shouted. ‘Don’t you dare!’
Mal held her back, but he was seething. ‘You kill him and Katsumi dies. I promise you that.’
‘Both of you stay out of this,’ Dominic warned. ‘This is between Maddoc and me.’
Chrysabelle shook her head, angry tears burning her eyes. ‘I wish Maris were alive to see how right she was.’
Dominic stayed his hand. ‘How right she was about what?’
‘She wrote in her journals that leaving you was the hardest decision of her life, but she knew you’d never give up the dark power being vampire gave you. She couldn’t be with you because loving her wasn’t enough for you.’ She swallowed down the hurt knotting her throat. ‘Look at you. She was right. You’re so caught up in your own sense of justice.’ She looked away for a second, blinking hard to clear her vision. ‘If you kill Doc, you and I are through. Your last link to Maris will be gone completely.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Dominic said. ‘There is power in a vampire’s blood. Power I cannot allow the witch to have. This isn’t about justice – it’s about self-preservation. Maris would understand that.’
‘The woman who gave her life to save mine? No.’ Chrysabelle shook her head. ‘I don’t think she would.’
Aliza pulled a subdued Evie to her feet and held her close. ‘This is all very touching, but I’m not giving up the blood, no matter who dies, so stop asking. The deal’s done. It’s mine.’
Mal stood and stepped forward. ‘Would you return Dominic’s and take mine in exchange?’
Aliza looked at him with great curiosity. ‘You’d give yours up freely?’
‘Not freely. Dominic’s must be returned.’
Aliza glanced at Evie. The two exchanged a peculiar look before Aliza nodded. ‘I’ll do it. On one condition.’
‘What?’ Mal asked.
‘What is the ring Tatiana spoke of?’
‘The ring of sorrows,’ Chrysabelle volunteered. What did it matter if Aliza knew the ring’s name? Time was running out. ‘Do you agree?’
Aliza nodded. ‘I do.’
Mal held his hand up and spoke to Dominic. ‘You must also agree that the return of your blood settles things between you and Doc.’
Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) Page 29