“And he thinks I’m stubborn.”
He did at least let Jerem drive them home, though.
“I guess that’s something.” Chrysabelle shook her head as she and Vel went in different directions. Mal would have his apology tonight, and with Mortalis’s help, maybe they’d soon have a better understanding of what the ring’s power was doing to her.
On the way to Seven, Jerem filled in some details from the previous night, including that Fi had asked Mal why they hadn’t just stayed at Chrysabelle’s instead of racing the sun home. Mal hadn’t answered the question, prompting Fi to denounce him and all other men as pigheaded jerks. Unfortunately, Jerem had no other insight into what had happened at Bar Nine other than what Mal had told him, which was basically the same as what Velimai had told her.
The scene outside Seven was crowded, as usual, but one of the bouncers motioned her forward. She recognized him as Tec, the brother of the dead wolf varcolai Mia.
“You’re Doc’s friend, right?” he asked.
“Yes, and you’re Mia’s brother.” How awful to lose a sibling. “I’m so sorry about what happened to her.”
“Thanks.” Sorrow filled his eyes, then morphed into something else. “You here to see Dominic?”
“No, Mortalis. Is he here tonight?”
“Sure, I’ll take you in.” He unclicked the rope and let her through as he addressed one of the other doormen. “Back in a few.” He kept pace beside her as they entered. “Big news about Doc becoming pride leader, huh?”
She nodded as the door swung shut behind them, leaving them alone in the foyer. “Big news.”
A flicker of wolf blue shifted through his eyes. “Word on the street is things got pretty exciting at Bar Nine last night.” His gaze said he knew more but was fishing.
“I guess it did. Thanks for your help. I’m sure I can find Mortalis on my own.” She slapped her palm against one of the dragons painted on the interior double doors and pushed through.
Tec went after her, stepping into her path. “I heard a comarré was killed there last night. And that a noble vampire came out of nowhere, turned into some kind of black-skinned monster, and ripped the heart out of her attacker.”
Scanning the club for Mortalis was impossible with Tec’s broad body in her field of vision. “I’m sure Doc’s dealing with the situation.” But why hadn’t he controlled it better?
“It’s been dealt with according to pride law. Same as pack law, a life for a life.” His eyes narrowed. “But if one of those deaths wasn’t really a death, the situation becomes unbalanced.” He got a little closer. “A life is still required.”
She stroked the red leather sacre straps crossing her chest. “Are you warning me or threatening me?”
He backed up. “Informing you. Do with it what you will, but know that it’s going to be dealt with.” He held his hands up. “Not by me. But Doc’s got a lot to prove as the new leader.”
“Shouldn’t you be at the front door, Tec?” Mortalis raised his brows in question as he came to a stop at the wolf-shifter’s side.
Tec nodded, his eyes on Chrysabelle. “Headed there now. You have a good night.” He shoved back through the doors.
“What was that all about?” Mortalis asked.
Chrysabelle exhaled a long sigh. The weight on her shoulders never got lighter. “I’m not even sure where to start.” She tried to smile. “How are you?”
“Better than you by the looks of it.” He tipped his head into the club. “You want to talk somewhere private?”
“Love to.”
A few minutes later, he escorted her into a tiny room with a narrow desk and two chairs. “Welcome to my office. Formerly the broom closet.”
“I didn’t even know you had an office.”
“I didn’t until a day ago. Luciano, Dominic’s nephew, thought I should have my own space. Such as it is.” He pulled the chair from behind the desk and set it beside the other one, motioning her to sit.
When they were both settled, she began. “I’m going to summarize as best I can. I’ve died twice in the last few days. The first time was when I last visited the Aurelian, and most recently last night. When this happens, I lose all memory of the event and typically pass out for a day or so. Mal thinks the ring of sorrows never lost its power when it was melted down and stitched into my skin and that its power is the reason death doesn’t seem to be a permanent thing for me anymore. Velimai thinks you might be able to connect me to someone who can tell me exactly what power transferred into me.”
He opened his mouth, but she held up a finger. “There’s more. Mal might be in trouble now because he killed the shifter who killed me last night, and as you can see, I am no longer dead. This whole thing apparently happened in front of a crowd at Bar Nine, so covering it up isn’t really an option. Let’s see, what else… oh yes. The vampiress who was being held captive in the freighter’s hold? Gone. And she took Damian with her. The kicker to that is, Mal says Damian’s name is the last thing I uttered before I woke up after being killed by the Aurelian.”
“Well.” Mortalis sat back slowly. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“Welcome to my world.”
He steepled his fingers. “Okay, maybe I do know where to start. First of all, I can connect you with someone who can get a read on the new signum and see what power they contain—if he’s willing to meet with you. It won’t be easy.”
She shrugged. “Is anything in my life?”
Mortalis continued. “Second, I’ll put out some feelers, see if I can get feedback on where our runaway vamp might be. Third, why do you think you said Damian’s name?”
“No idea. There’s nothing there but a big blank. The blackouts seem to start a few moments before I actually die.”
Mortalis strummed his fingers on his knees, lost in thought for a few moments. “With everything you’ve told me, I can think of only one good reason you’d say his name.”
“Why?” She edged forward, her breath tight in her chest, as she already knew what he was going to say. The same thing Mal had already told her.
Mortalis blew out a breath. “He’s your brother.”
Chapter Twelve
Nothing in this one either.” Fi tossed another book on the growing pile in the middle of Mal’s office. “You really think we’re going to find anything?”
“Yes.” No, but getting Fi to help search for nonexistent information on the ring of sorrows was a great way to keep her away from Doc until he could get his situation figured out. Not that babysitting Fi was really what Mal wanted to be doing either, but there was no point in being around Chrysabelle when she woke up if it was anything like the last time. He’d let her remember she’d wanted to talk to him and come here on her own terms. Better that than arguing with her again. He didn’t want to argue. He wanted them to be a team. How sweet. However much that was possible. If it even was. It’s not.
Fi flipped through another book. “You should sell these. Paper books are worth good money and you could use some of that.”
“No. Keep looking.” Somewhere outside, a car door shut and a new heartbeat announced itself to his senses. “Someone’s here.”
Fi looked up from her pages. “Chrysabelle?”
“No.” He closed the book he hadn’t been reading and stood. “Get scarce in case it’s trouble.”
“I’ll be in the galley if you need me. I think there’s some pizza left.” She moved out and he followed her, splitting off to head up to the deck. He climbed to the bridge for a better vantage out over the ship.
The sun had set a while ago, leaving a melting blue horizon in its wake. An imported sedan sat at the end of the freighter’s gangplank. No heartbeats inside the car, so whoever it was had come alone. Good. Easier to kill if need be. The voices cheered that idea.
He honed in on the pulse. Somewhere to the front of the ship. Trying to find a way in most likely. He dropped down a few levels, landing without making a sound. That’s when the perfume hit him.
Wasn’t strong, but to his nose, it was enough. Why humans doused themselves in scent, he’d never understood. Soap, shampoo, lotion, washing detergent. Everything had an artificial smell. It was almost more than his nose could take at times. Blood, sweat, earth, rain, metal. Those were honest smells. Unlike the fake limey scent that marked his intruder like a flashing neon sign. He settled in among a stack of empty barrels to watch her. When she moved, he followed, always quiet, always a few steps behind. Once close enough to touch. But he didn’t.
She finally found an entrance that satisfied her. He leaned against the railing behind her. She knocked, almost making him laugh.
“Slumming, Madam Mayor?”
Pulse bumping a notch higher, she jumped and twisted to look at him. “You startled me.”
“I’m a vampire. If that’s the least I do, you should be thankful.”
Her smile was forced as she straightened her skirt. Nice legs. Not as nice as Chrysabelle’s. “I was wondering if we could talk.”
“Sure. Start with how you found me.”
“I have access to information most people don’t.”
He crossed his arms. “I’m completely off the grid. Have been for centuries.”
“I… I hired someone to find you.”
“That someone have a death wish?”
“Please, I’m not here to upset you.” She took a few steps toward him, proving she was either incredibly ballsy or insane. He inhaled, picking up the additional aroma of rum. He added drunk to the list of possibilities. “I know that my grandchild is in the hands of the ancient ones, as you call them.”
He nodded, the smart remarks dying away. He knew what it was to lose a child. “That’s what we believe, yes.”
“I have to get her back.”
“You have to get her back?” His brows lifted a few centimeters. “You don’t understand what you’re going up against.”
“Yes, I do.” Her heartbeat calmed slightly. “They’re demons. Fallen angels. Deadly, powerful creatures.”
“That only begins to describe them.”
“I can’t let them have her without a fight.”
He pushed away from the railing, causing her to jerk backward. He shook his head. “If I scare you, how are you going to face them?”
“That’s why I’m here.” She held her ground as he took a step closer. “I’m almost defenseless as a human. I want you to turn me into a vampire. Put me on a more equal playing field. Being turned will help me better serve the city, too. Understand both sides.”
He barked out a laugh, stunned by her idea. “I thought you were insane to come here; now I know you are.” Why did a damned eternity hold such appeal for humans? He turned to leave. “Answer’s no. Go home.” He wasn’t about to offer his or Chrysabelle’s assistance until everything with Chrysabelle had been straightened out. The child was half vampire. It was in good company for now.
“I’m siding with you. Don’t you understand that? I’m siding with your kind. When the war between varcolai and vampires comes—”
“There won’t be a war.” He kept walking. “Go home.”
She ran after him and snagged his arm, letting it go as soon as he spun to face her. “Please. I’ll do anything you want. Give you blood.” Blood blood blood. Her gaze skimmed his body. “Sleep with you.”
He stared at her. “Are you for real? Are you truly this clueless about who I am? About what I am?”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because you’re crazy.”
She planted her hands on her hips and lifted her chin, tossing her hair. “I take good care of myself, Mr. Bourreau. A lot of men would find me very desirable.”
“I’m not one of them.” You’re also not a man. Like he needed to be reminded of that.
With a touch of indignation, she sniffed, her hands dropping from her hips. “I’d do anything you want. Please, just make me like you.”
Faster than he knew she could follow, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her close against his body. She gasped and began to tremble. He pressed his cheek to hers so that his mouth was next to her ear, then spoke as distinctly as he could with anger tightening his jaw. “I am not a man, Madam Mayor. I am a monster. The only part of me I want to stick into you is my fangs. Then I would drink your blood until there wasn’t enough left to keep your heart pumping. That’s what I’d do with you.” The voices went wild. She was warm against him, but still she shivered. “And you want to become like me? You are a fool.” He shoved her away. “I should wipe your mind of this, but I won’t because I’m afraid you’d just come back.”
“How dare you,” she whispered. “I offer myself to you and this is how you treat me.”
“Go home.” He walked toward the ship’s entrance. “Let’s both forget this happened.” Footsteps behind him alerted him to her movement. He dodged as she came after him.
Jerking to a stop, she turned, her chest rising and falling. “Don’t walk away from me. This isn’t over.”
His human face disappeared. He knew his eyes must be silver by now. “Get off my ship.”
“Turn me. Or face the consequences.”
The beast within lifted its head in anger. “Threatening me is a very bad idea.” He spun a little power into his voice. “Go home. Forget where I live.”
Some of the fire in her eyes died. “I… don’t…”
“Forget and go home,” he said again, this time with greater insistence.
She nodded and moved back toward the gangway. “Home,” she muttered.
As her car pulled away, another pulled up. Chrysabelle. The tension drained from him. If needing her weakened him, so be it, although in truth he felt stronger around her. More complete. And if she didn’t want to talk about the ring of sorrows’ power, he’d let it go for tonight. After the mayor, Chrysabelle’s company would be a welcome change.
She got out, her dark luminescence beckoning in the night’s gloom. She waved when she saw him standing on the deck. He lifted his hand to return the gesture. Odd the things he did around her. She jogged up the gangway. “Was that the mayor I saw driving away?”
“Yes. But I don’t want to talk about her.” Screw everything he should or shouldn’t do. All he wanted was her.
She stopped a few steps away from him and frowned. “I know. You want to talk about the ring and the power and all that. I should start by saying you might be right about Damian. At least Mortalis agrees he could be my brother, so if you want to say I told you so, go ahead and—”
“I’ll pass.” He took her hand and pulled her against him, then kissed her hard and fast before lifting his head. Her frown turned into an openmouthed gape. “In fact, I don’t want to talk at all. Other than to tell you I’m glad you’re still alive.” He closed his eyes as her perfume wrapped around him. Slowly, so did her arms.
“You’re in an interesting mood.”
He put a little space between them and held her face in his hands. He was done fighting with the voices in his head. Trying to deny what he felt. “I have bad news.” He watched her eyes for her reaction. “I love you.”
Beneath his palms, she tensed. Her breathing and pulse increased and she blinked rapidly.
Love. What a word to come out of his mouth. He shut out the voices’ chaos as he dropped his hands from her face. “Don’t expect flowers and candy. I’m telling you because it shades everything I do concerning you. The biggest danger is that you can be used against me now, and trust me, that’s the last thing I want. I’ll die before I let anything bad happen to you.”
She struggled to nod as he stepped away and gave her some space. “I know you would. You’ve proven that.” She gnawed at her lip. “Except for Maris, no one’s told me they love me before. I don’t know how to react.”
“There’s no reaction needed on your part.” He walked toward the door, letting her breathe air that wasn’t tainted with vampire. “Did you have another memory lapse this time?”
She followed him. “Mal, you c
an’t just change the subject like that.”
He stepped into the ship. “Something important must be on your mind if you came all the way out here.”
Her hands gripped the sides of the door, but she came no farther. “Your declaration is pretty important.”
“No, it’s not. It’s simply a statement of fact. A warning.”
“A warning? That’s romantic.”
“You want romance, look somewhere else.” He loosened one of her hands and closed his around it. Her pulse still raced. He dropped her hand. Maybe she’d had enough of his touch for one night. “Come inside and tell me what brought you here.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again and, with a sigh, allowed him to lead her to the galley. Fi sat at the table, eating a slice of cold pizza.
Mal shook his head. “I don’t know how you can eat that.”
She spoke around a mouthful of food. “And I don’t know how you can drink blood.” She swallowed and closed the empty box. “I’m going to find a Dumpster for this. You two look like you need to be left alone anyway.” She got up from the table and tucked the box beneath her arm. “Nice to see you’re alive again, Chrysabelle.”
“Thanks, Fi.”
Mal gestured toward the kettle. “You want tea or something?”
“No.” She settled into one of the chairs around the old table and folded her hands on top of it, staring at the signum marking her fingers. “I feel like I have a million things to tell you and no idea where to start.”
“My apologies if I’ve discombobulated your thoughts.”
“You tell me you love me and now you’re apologizing without prompting? Who are you?” She gave him a crooked little smile. “Besides, you discombobulate me without trying. Not always in a bad way.”
“Nice to hear.” He took the seat next to her. “Just tell me what’s happening and we’ll figure it out together.”
“First of all, I’m sorry about the other night. You didn’t deserve that.”
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