Out for Blood

by Kristen Painter

  “Nor I.” Octavian gave her a wink and went back to his valet for his dinner jacket. “But we must welcome them all, Svetla and Grigor included, with the same good grace. Or at least appear to.”

  Stepping off the platform, she frowned as a servant brushed a bit of lint off the side of her gown. “I know what needs to be done. We can’t let them think anything else is afoot.” In the gold-backed cheval mirror, she glanced at him and Daci, catching his gaze upon her as it almost always was.

  She turned her head to admire herself. “What do you think? I don’t normally wear my hair up.”

  “Beautiful, Tatiana.” Daci nodded. “You look every inch the Dominus.”

  “She’s right, you do. The most stunning Dominus.” Octavian took her hand, then extended his arm to Daci. “Shall we? I think our guests have waited long enough.”

  Tatiana held back a little. “You’ve taken the potion against Grigor’s and Svetla’s probing?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Done.”

  “Excellent.” Not that she was convinced it would work. She walked with him to Lilith’s crib, where he let her hand slide from his. The baby had been dressed in a white lace gown with a matching cap on her head. Tatiana picked her up, cradling her against her own sleek black silk. She kissed Lilith’s tiny nose, then nodded at Octavian. “You and Daci go first. I’ll follow with Lilith.”

  “As you wish.” He snapped his fingers, Daci still on his arm. “Kosmina, we’re ready.”

  Kosmina went ahead of them down the hall to the dining room. “The staff has prepared a full tasting of twelve different bloods for this evening, animal and kine. I hope my lady finds it to her liking.”

  Tatiana couldn’t take her eyes off Lilith’s sleepy face. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  They slowed as they approached the dining room. Kosmina swung wide the doors into the space and announced them. “Your hosts, Dominus Tatiana; her consort Lord Octavian; and Elder of the House of Tepes, Lady Daciana.” After a short bow, she quickly walked to the side of the grand buffet and stood at attention with the other servants in attendance.

  Octavian and Daciana entered and stood behind their chairs, one on either side of the head of the table, where Tatiana would sit.

  She strolled in and watched, delighted, as the gathered nobility craned to get a glimpse of the child in her arms. Only Syler and Edwin stood. Did the others think she wouldn’t notice the slight? She bit back the words souring her tongue and tried to maintain the grace Octavian had stressed. “Lords and ladies, may I present my daughter, the vampire princess, Lilith.”

  “Get up, you fools,” Octavian snapped, warming her dead heart. Grace, it appeared, had its time and place.

  Chairs scraped the floor as they were shoved back. All stood. All but Grigor. He lounged in his chair, eyes heavy lidded in certain boredom. “This child is a vampire princess?” His nostrils flared. “Who says?”

  Svetla sank back into her chair and made a show of studying one of the crystal tasting goblets laid out before her.

  Tatiana’s body trembled with rage. “I say it. And the ancient ones say it.” She held Lilith up, her hands firmly on the child’s torso. As if sensing her mother’s emotion, Lilith whimpered. “Look at her. She is the first of her kind. Born vampire.”

  Murmured words of disbelief and doubtful noises echoed off the wood-paneled walls. “There’s no such thing. Poppycock. Well, I never…”

  “You fools,” Daci shouted.

  Lilith began to cry in earnest. Tatiana cradled her child in her arms. “There, there, my darling.” With her first wail, her tiny fangs were visible.

  Lord Zephrim fell back into his seat, his mouth gaping at the irrefutable proof. “The child has fangs.”

  “As do we all. I don’t see how this proves anything,” Grigor said. “Any of us could sire an infant. There’s no proof this child was born vampire any more than one of us.”

  Lord Syler shook his head. “Would you challenge the ancient ones? Their word on this is enough for me and my house.”

  Lord Zephrim nodded. “I agree. Their word is enough.”

  Lord Timotheius cleared his throat. “So it’s true, then. This is quite an amazing occurrence.”

  Tatiana hugged Lilith to her, bouncing her gently to soothe her crying. “I’d say it’s more than just an amazing occurrence. It’s the start of a new era. With my daughter, a new race of vampires has begun.”

  Kosmina hurried to Tatiana’s side. “Shall I take her, my lady? She sounds hungry.”

  “Yes. See that she’s fed.” She handed Lilith off. Octavian pulled a chair out for her and she took her place at the head of the table; then he helped Daci into her seat before taking his own. The rest of the Dominus and their Elders sat.

  “This new race,” Zephrim began. “How is it different from our own nobility, other than she was born vampire and we are sired? She is still just a vampire. No disrespect intended.”

  “No disrespect? Really?” Tatiana turned to Octavian, savoring the last moment of their shared knowledge. “Just a vampire,” she mocked.

  Octavian sipped his wine. “She is anything but.”

  “Hear, hear,” Daci said, lifting a glass and drinking to her own toast.

  “And why is that?” Grigor waved his hand as if trying to hurry her along. “You must share whatever it is you think is so special about this child.”

  Tatiana straightened to look down her nose at the Dominus seated at her dinner table, pride rippling through her. “My child has powers no other noble vampire has.” She paused, savoring their eager anticipation. “Lilith is a daywalker.”

  “You did bravely today,” Yahla cooed against Creek’s skin.

  “Did I?” He couldn’t remember much since last night. “What exactly did I do?” He moved away from her, trying to clear his head.

  “Just what I asked of you.”

  She looped her arm through his, but he got off the bed, walked over to the small flat screen, and turned off the news. That and the small flashes of memories fading in and out were the only way he’d figured out what had happened.

  The mayor had put a curfew in place and he was somehow a part of it. He’d gone to her house, been in her office, but beyond that… there wasn’t much. A flash of Chrysabelle. The ever-present urging of Yahla. Mal taking Doc’s place. Or had he gotten that part from the news? Not that he’d be watching any more of it. Being with Yahla made it tough to concentrate on anything but her. “Why is it so hard for me to remember?”

  “Perhaps when I am with you, I am all that fills your thoughts.” She slid off the bed and came to him, pressing herself into him and drawing patterns on his chest with her fingers. “I do not enjoy this place you call home. It is not suitable for you any longer.”

  His body was too focused on her touch to remember what he’d been talking about. “It might be a dump, but that’s kind of the point. No one would think anyone living here would have anything worth messing with. Besides, the KM aren’t about to fund a new place unless this one is compromised.”

  “The KM are not your—”

  He shook his head, making a small place in his brain where he could think. “I know you don’t like them. I’m not crazy about them either, but I work for them. You killing Argent doesn’t change that.”

  She blinked rapidly. “I said I will free you.”

  He kissed her forehead. “And I don’t doubt you. But until then, I have to do the job they got me out of prison to do, or they’ll put me back there. And that ain’t happening.”

  “I would not allow that.” She opened her mouth to say more, but a knocking on the downstairs door interrupted her. He slipped his jeans on, then headed downstairs, crossbow over his shoulder. “Stay here. Don’t make any noise.”

  He padded across the space, the concrete floor cool under his bare feet. If he had to guess who his caller was, he’d say Argent’s replacement. The KM wouldn’t leave him untethered for too long. Bringing the crossbow down, he unlocked the
heavy-duty door and slid it back a few inches.

  Spiky black hair and wraparound sunglasses greeted him. The woman standing there, dressed in black leather from head to toe, didn’t even glance at the crossbow aimed at her heart. Or at least not that he could tell from the dark sunglasses that were… screwed into her temples. Screwed? Really? And why the shades at all? It had been dark for over two hours.

  She nodded at him. “Creek.”

  He held the bow where it was. “You have me at a disadvantage. You are?”

  “Sector Chief Annika.” She spoke with a slight accent. European maybe. “I’m filling in for Argent.”

  Creek dropped the bow to his hip. So they didn’t know Argent was dead. “Filling in?”

  “Yes.” She held her arm out, palm up, and pulled her jacket sleeve up. A small brand—the Greek letter Ω—he’d come to recognize as identifying KM higher-ups, marked the inside of her wrist. “Are you going to let me in?”

  “Sure.” No answer on why Argent needed filling in for, then. More need to know that he didn’t need to know. He slid the door back.

  Without waiting for it to be opened all the way, she pushed past and came inside. “When’s the last time you saw your sector chief?”

  “Couple of days ago. Last time he was here.”

  She nodded, studying the interior of the old machine shop. She glanced briefly at the sleeping loft. “He hasn’t checked in since then. Any idea where he might have been headed when he left you?”

  Creek kept a little distance between them. Better that way, at least until he figured out what she was exactly. The screwed on sunglasses didn’t exactly inspire warm fuzzies. “I only get told what I need to know, and with Argent, that isn’t much.”

  Annika almost matched him in height, and from the muscle filling out her leathers, she could probably hold her own against a man his size. She faced him again. “I don’t run my people that way. I’ll tell you what I can, when I can.”

  If that was true, she was already a better boss than Argent. “So I belong to you now?”

  “You report to me until you’re told otherwise.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She walked around his V-Rod, not as captivated as Argent had been, but plainly interested in the shiny bits. Another dragon-shifter maybe? Creek used the distraction to sneak a look at the sleeping loft. No sign of Yahla. Maybe she’d have less issue with him working for a woman. He would not let her kill another KM agent.

  “Bring me up to speed.” Annika trailed her fingers over the bike’s seat. The back of her leathers was oddly pleated, the same way Argent’s suit had been to accommodate his wings. Another check on the dragon side of things. “Where are you with getting the comarré to retrieve the vampire child?”

  “Not as far along as I’m sure you’d like. She’s not interested in going to Corvinestri right now. I can’t blame her. Getting the kid means facing off with Tatiana. I don’t know if the comarré is ready for that. She’s been through a lot and—”

  Annika’s head came up. “What she’s been through is not as important as removing that child from the clutches of the ancients.”

  “I understand, but I think she feels like there are worse places a vampire baby could be than in the care of other vampires.” He moved toward the kitchen, hoping Annika would follow him to a spot out of sight of Yahla. “She’s more focused on finding her brother. Or at least the comar she thinks might be her brother.” And then there was the whole business of Mal taking Doc’s place in the town square. That would keep Chrysabelle occupied for a few more hours. He’d warned her the KM would go after Mal if she didn’t do as they asked. Maybe he could find a way to spin this. Damn. He did not want to lie to her, but if he didn’t get the KM’s work done, his family would suffer.

  “Damian, right? Tatiana’s escaped comar.”

  “Yes. He’s the one.” Creek leaned against the counter. “Except he’s not exactly escaped anymore. Seems a vampiress by the name of—”

  “Daciana, yes, we know. She’s gone back to Corvinestri.” Annika shook her head. “I’m getting ahead of myself.” She unzipped a side pocket in her jacket and retrieved a small flash drive. “Here.” She walked it over to him. “Plug that into your phone and you can access everything I’m about to tell you.”

  He took it and tucked it into his jeans pocket. Actual info he could hold on to? That was new.

  Annika leaned in slightly, her nostrils widening. Creek backed away. Did she smell Yahla on him? Annika returned to the conversation.

  “Daciana has returned to Corvinestri with Damian, who’s being held prisoner right now. We’re unsure what Tatiana’s plans are for him, but you can be certain they won’t be pleasant. I’m telling you this and giving you the file because we believe this new information will help you convince the comarré to go to Corvinestri on her brother’s behalf.”

  “So Damian is her brother?” That info would definitely get Chrysabelle on a plane.

  “We don’t know that. Comarré records are sealed beyond our reach. For the purpose of your conversation with her, the answer is yes. It’s reflected that way in the file as well.” Annika flattened her palms on the kitchen’s worktable. “While she’s there, she will retrieve the child. You’re to make it clear to her that is the focus of her mission. Anything else is secondary to us.”

  “Chrysabelle has no good reason to take a vampire baby from another bunch of vampires. All she’s going to care about is getting Damian back.”

  She waved her hands. “It’s your job to give her a reason. And that she does it. That is all the Kubai Mata is concerned with.”

  “Got it.” So typical. All that mattered was the KM’s desires. “Anything else?” Like maybe what species she was. Knowing that would help him anticipate what kind of boss she might be. Hopefully nothing like Argent, but she was still KM.

  “Yes. We obtained blood tests on the vampire child.”

  Amazing what the KM could get its hands on. “From your inside person?”

  “From a reliable source.” Above her shades, her brows bent downward. “You may let the comarré know the cover of night is not critical for this mission. It seems the child’s blood contains a UV antibody.”

  He canted his head to one side, peering at her more closely. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “Yes. The ancients possess a daywalker.”

  “Damn, that changes things. But considering the kid’s father, that doesn’t—”

  The bed creaked above them. Annika’s head lifted toward the ceiling. Her nostrils flared again, but this time her tongue flicked out of her mouth. Her forked tongue. She tasted the air. “You have a woman here. I smelled her when I came in but couldn’t sense her. She is not human.”

  They all seemed to figure that out pretty quickly. “She’s not a problem.”

  Annika’s mouth curved in a not entirely unpleasant smile. “Good. I’m not unsympathetic to a man’s needs. So long as she doesn’t keep you from your work.”

  “Understood.”

  Annika nodded. “I’ll be going.” She walked toward the door. “Talk to the comarré immediately. I’ll expect an update soon.”

  Which he took to mean she’d be returning in a day or so. He walked with her. “Will do.” He hesitated to say more, but curiosity got the best of him. “So you’re a dragon like Argent?”

  “No.”

  His brow furrowed as they reached the door. “What are you, then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  She pushed the heavy metal back with one hand and turned. “Basilisk.”

  He shook his head. “What is that again?”

  “Like a dragon but with a stone gaze and a few other abilities.”

  “A stone gaze?”

  She stepped back into his home, her gaze aimed at the ground. “There.” She pointed at a palmetto bug scurrying toward them along one wall. She stepped into its path and crouched down. “Watch.” She tapped one of the screws on the side of her glasses, which he
now realized was a button. The shades flipped up.

  The palmetto bug turned gray and stopped moving. Before facing him, she touched the button again, lowering the shades. With a few steps, she retrieved the bug and tossed it his way.

  He caught it, surprised at the weight and smoothness. She’d turned it to stone. He took a step back. “Stone gaze. Got it.”

  With a nod, she exited, unfurled a pair of wings, and took off. Creek watched her disappear into the night sky, hoping like hell that questions about Argent’s disappearance never caused her to look at him any closer.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Get your hands off me,” Chrysabelle snarled to the SWAT member holding her. The humans around her stared, stepping back as they realized she wasn’t one of them.

  The man’s hands stayed on her biceps, keeping her back while Mal was chained to the posts a few yards away. “Ma’am, you can’t approach the prisoner.”

  “He’s not a prisoner, you idiot. He volunteered for the job.” She could easily toss the guy aside, but that would just draw more attention to her. Already the confused and troubled citizens surrounding her thrummed with an unwelcome vibe.

  Police restrained the murmuring crowds at the square’s edges while a few more officers directed a black sedan. The mayor. Wasn’t watching this chaos on the holovision enough for her? Rage bloomed in Chrysabelle, causing her muscles to tremble. And this woman wanted help getting her grandchild back? She shook her head at the thought. Not the best way to go about it.

  The sedan parked and the mayor got out, escorted by Luke Havoc. How could a shifter work for the mayor after this? He stayed at her side as she walked toward the cluster of cameramen and reporters who’d headed for the sedan the moment it had come into sight.

  They held their microphones up as she began to speak. “As you can see, we’ve had a change in plans. The varcolai who violated the curfew has been released and his place taken by another othernatural.” She raised a hand toward Mal. “Before you, citizens of Paradise City, you see a real, live vampire.”