Out for Blood

by Kristen Painter

  The noise from the assembled crowd fell to a whispered hush as they walked through. The ballroom was enormous, as was the ballroom in her own estate, and tonight it was at capacity. Perhaps a thousand vampires. Perhaps more. She lifted her chin a little higher and kept a firm grip on Lilith, one hand curled around her body, the other on her head.

  The dais had been set with a long banquet table. Syler’s elder, Edwin, was already in the chair to Syler’s left. He rose as they approached and greeted Tatiana with a short bow. She nodded in return. She didn’t know much about Edwin, but he seemed a levelheaded sort.

  Lord Syler stood beside Edwin at the first of the large center chairs, while Tatiana stood beside the second. Octavian and Daciana filled in the next two spaces. The comarré settled into a row of seats at the very back of the dais where Syler’s and Edwin’s were already in attendance.

  The ballroom was beautifully decorated with an abundance of live plants and animals and lighting that made it seem like a warm spring day. The Garden of Eden theme was something she’d personally approved. She sniffed once, reminded of her late Nehebkau. The albino cobra would have loved what Syler had done.

  When they were all in place, Syler raised his hand. “Good nobles of the five families, welcome to my home and to the Dominus ball in honor of Lady Tatiana, newly appointed Dominus of the House of Tepes, and her consort, Lord Octavian.”

  Polite clapping answered him. Tatiana merely gazed out across the crowd, recognizing some faces and others not at all. It mattered little. They needed to know her; she didn’t need to know them.

  Syler continued, his voice carrying effortlessly across the vast space. “I am also honored to introduce the newest member of the nobility. She is a gift from the ancient ones to Lady Tatiana, the first of our kind to be born vampire.” He held his hand out toward Tatiana. “I present to you Princess Lilith.”

  At the end of Syler’s prearranged introduction, Tatiana turned Lilith to face the crowd and raised her overhead. Lilith laughed and kicked her feet, no doubt thinking it was playtime. A few of the faces in the crowd softened, fear edged a few more, but the bulk of the nobility stared stone-faced, no doubt purposefully hiding their true feelings of jealousy or intimidation.

  To turn the knife a little deeper, Tatiana smiled sweetly back at them and, bringing Lilith back into her safe embrace, calmly spoke. “Thank you for your abundant generosity, Lord Syler. My family and I are in your debt.” She moved from face to face. “I’m sure many of you are curious about Lilith. I cannot blame you. She is an extraordinary child. As Lord Syler indicated, she is the first of us to be born vampire.” She paused for effect. “And the first of us to be immune to the sun.”

  The stoniness dropped away from all but a few faces. Yes, let them soak in that astonishing bit of news.

  “She is truly the arrival of our next generation,” Lord Syler proclaimed. “Thank you all for coming. Now, please, enjoy the rest of your evening.” He snapped his fingers and servants came forward to pull out Tatiana’s and Daciana’s chairs. The music swelled again and the crowd returned to mingling, their topic of conversation no doubt what they’d just witnessed.

  Tatiana sat and positioned Lilith on her lap facing the audience as everyone else on the dais took their chairs. A servant appeared at her right-hand side and filled her goblet with blood, but she paid him little attention. The crowd was far too interesting. All across the ballroom, nobles formed small circles, exchanged a few words, then glanced her way. She stared back imperiously at each prattling cluster.

  Until she found one solitary noble tucked into a pocket of greenery. A highly gilded comarré hovered behind him. That combined with his exquisitely tailored clothing confirmed he had means. He spoke with no one, his gaze simply fixed on her. His face meant nothing to her, but something about him—the breadth of his shoulders, his loosely dangerous stance—felt familiar in a not unpleasant way. Perhaps they’d met at a previous engagement. A vampire of that size and bank account would be an invaluable addition to the team she planned to send to Paradise City. She would seek him out, find out who he was. Then make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  Doc stared blankly at his office door, his mind upstairs where Fi was asleep in the bed Heaven had once occupied. He should be there with her, but Heaven’s death had frayed into a thousand loose ends that only he could tie up. Most important, her father had to be called. Doc exhaled. Of all the things on his list, that was the one he dreaded the most.

  Barasa was preparing her body for transportation back to Brazil and Omur was overseeing the cleanup of the arena. That was one thing he knew about. Back in the day before Sinjin had thrown him out for his curse, he’d been on a few cleanup crews. The arena was pretty sophisticated and the mechanics built in did most of the work of funneling the sand through a series of drains where it was steam cleaned and then pumped back in. The hard work was sweeping all that sand into the drains.

  Maybe some hard work would be good. Being pride leader was a lot of sitting around and he wasn’t a sitting around kind of brother.

  He shoved his chair back and headed out. A few minutes later, his fingers trailed across the Bast statue outside the arena, then he pushed through the doors.

  A very startled Omur looked up from where he was sweeping. “Maddoc, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He dropped the push broom and hustled to the entrance, blocking Doc’s path. “How’s Fiona? She seemed pretty banged up. Is someone with her?”

  Doc narrowed his eyes. “Isaiah’s with her and I don’t like that you’re implying I left her alone.”

  “No, of course not. My apologies.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I should probably get back to work. Thank you for stopping by.”

  Doc looked past him. “Where’s your crew? This isn’t a one-man job.”

  “They’re on break.”

  Letting a few uncomfortable seconds tick by, Doc finally spoke. “Where are their brooms?”

  Omur looked behind him, his gloved hands opening and closing. “They must have taken them with them.”

  Doc crossed his arms. Enough was enough. “Lie to me again and I will remove you from my council.”

  Omur’s eyes yellowed. “I would never…” He sighed and glanced behind him again, his shoulders bowing slightly. “Something has happened.”

  Doc’s sixth sense triggered, icing his spine. “This has to do with Heaven’s death, doesn’t it?”

  Omur nodded, his eyes shifting back to human and his body sagging. He ran to lock the arena doors, then motioned for Doc to follow him. “Come with me.”

  He led Doc to the edge of the arena where the metal floor stopped and the lip that outlined the sand-filled area began. Omur scooped up a small handful of the sand and held it out to Doc. “Someone put powdered silver in the sand.”

  The ice spread from Doc’s spine to his bloodstream. “You’re positive.”

  Omur nodded. “I’m sure Barasa will find evidence of it on the body.”

  Doc rested his hand against his forehead for a moment, then dropped it and walked a few steps away. “That’s how Fi barely touched Heaven but still managed to kill her.”

  Omur tipped his hand and dumped the sand back onto the floor. “Fiona cut Heaven’s lip, so it could have easily gotten into her bloodstream that way, and they were both covered with sand by the end of the fight. Because the silver was powdered, the concentration would have been fairly low. Probably only meant to weaken Heaven, but once it got into her system and made its way to her heart…” He frowned. “Heaven was a small person. It wouldn’t have taken too great a quantity. The amount wasn’t figured properly.” He glanced at Doc. “Whoever did it.”

  “If this gets out—dammit, it can’t get out. I can’t have pride members saying Fi didn’t win fairly. She’s been through enough. Heaven almost killed her.”

  Omur raised his hands. “Barasa and I won’t say a word, I promise you. I don’t think it’s wise to tip off the person who actually did it anyway. We�
��ll find out more if they don’t know we’re investigating.”

  Doc canted his head back and put his hands on his hips. “This isn’t good. I don’t like the idea of keeping a secret this big.” One secret was enough, but if Barasa was right about Aliza’s spell, keeping the fire secret might not be a concern anymore.

  “Look, we hold this to ourselves, find out who did it, then deal with them and it’s done. It doesn’t need to become an issue.”

  “It can’t become an issue.” This had the potential to blow up big-time, but at least whoever had done it had tipped the scales in Fi’s direction. If they’d laced something into the sand that had caused her to die instead, things would be very, very different. “What if there are marks on Heaven’s body? How am I supposed to explain that to her father when he comes to get her body?”

  Omur’s posture relaxed. “Chances are Heaven’s father will send an emissary in his place. The fact that she lost a challenge to a human and disgraced her pride will most likely mean his disappointment in her will override his parental duty.”

  “Damn. Tough family.”

  Omur whistled softly. “You have no idea.”

  Doc sighed and stared out at the vast field of sparkling, deadly sand. “Get me some gloves and a broom.”

  Chapter Forty

  The sense of pressure registered against Lola’s body, but she wasn’t ready to turn her back on the deep, beautiful sleep cocooning her. She pushed at whoever was shaking her, trying to connect and finding only empty air. “Stop,” she muttered.

  “Get up,” a familiar voice snarled.

  So hungry. Maybe it was time to feed.

  Hot breath teased her ear. “Get the hell up now or I’ll find a way to let sunlight in here.”

  A sudden panicky rush snapped her into awareness. She bolted upright in the tub. Thomas Creek stood beside her with the comar, Hector, just a few feet away. Hilda, one hand covering her mouth, hugged the bedroom door.

  Hilda crossed herself, eyes fearful. “What’s happening? I thought you said she was dead.”

  “She is,” Creek answered, his lip curled in disgust. “She’s become a vampire.” He grabbed Lola by the arm and yanked her to her feet. “Who did this to you? Tell me and I’ll go after them.”

  Instinct kicked in and she snapped at him. The bathroom mirror reflected the shifting of her bones and the gleam of her fangs. “No one did this to me. I wanted this.”

  Hilda fainted.

  Hector stepped into the bathroom. “Take your hands off her.”

  Creek didn’t look at him. “Kid, you better go while you still can.”

  “He stays,” Lola spat. No one told her comar what to do but her. “I’ve already purchased his blood rights.”

  “The change comes fast, doesn’t it? What a piece of work you are.” Creek released her.

  All she wanted was to return to the numbing sleep she’d been ripped out of. She needed some of Luciano’s potion as soon as possible. Until then, she tried to ignore the fact that the sun currently ruled the sky. It scratched at her skin like a rash and she wasn’t anywhere near the light. She needed to arrange for the helioglazing Luciano had told her about. “My business is just that. Mine. Save your concern for someone who wants it.”

  “How could you do this? Especially after everything that happened with Julia?”

  The mention of her daughter’s name stripped the last shreds of sleep from Lola. “Don’t talk about my daughter like you knew her. I did this for my city and for my grandchild.”

  He snorted. “Doesn’t make it right. And after what you did to Mal?” He stared her up and down. “Hypocrite. Drop that curfew immediately or I will rain the full power of the Kubai Mata down on you so hard, you’ll wish you’d never been born. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Ai yi yi, you’re the one who told me to put the curfew in place to begin with! If anyone’s a hypocrite, it’s you.”

  “I was under the spell of an evil woman. She used me to persuade you. I didn’t do it willingly. Now I’m here to tell you to lift it once and for all.”

  She tapped her chest with her finger. “I will, but only because being sired has given me the power to run this town properly.”

  He shook his head and backed out of the bathroom, past the comar and away from her. “You think the human citizens of Paradise City are going to stand for this? As of today, I’m making it my number-one job to watch every move you make.”

  “Go ahead and watch. You’ll see the citizens understand my sacrifice.” She scowled at him. “Cross me and I’ll put you back behind bars where you belong.”

  “No,” Creek answered. “You won’t. The KM are bigger than you. We’re here to protect humans from monsters like you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Your threats are as powerless as you are. Becoming a vampire hasn’t made you stronger; it’s made you more vulnerable.”

  She hissed at him again as he helped Hilda to her feet. “Get out of my house.”

  “Gladly.” He started to go, then turned. “I’ll make you one more promise. As long as there is breath in my body, you will never get your hands on that child.” With that, he stormed out. Hilda ran after him.

  Lola planted her hands on her hips. It wasn’t worth her energy to respond. She knew how wrong he was and had no doubts that he did, too. Her stomach growled. Luciano had told her she’d wake up ravenous. She held her hand out to her comar. Everything else could wait until she’d fed. “Hector, if you please, I’m starving.”

  “She’s coming toward us.” Chrysabelle’s throat narrowed a little more with every step Tatiana took. Her hands dipped into her pockets, easing through the slits to grasp the hilts of her daggers. Just the feel of them in her palms gave her comfort.

  Mal kept his eyes on his ex-wife. “I can handle this.”

  Her fingers twitched. “Really? Because all I can think about is sinking one of these blades into her chest.”

  He turned and frowned at Chrysabelle. “Go. Take this opportunity to talk to Damian and get him into position.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it a second later. At least one of them was keeping their wits about them. How it became Mal, she wasn’t sure, but he was right. This might be the only chance she had to let Damian know their plans. She nodded and slipped away in the opposite direction of Tatiana’s approach.

  As she skirted the ballroom and the groups of nobles, she absorbed every snippet of overheard conversation. To a person, they spoke of the child, Lilith, and what it would mean for the future of the vampire nation. Few seemed happy that Tatiana had been chosen as Lilith’s guardian, but no one seemed willing to say it to Tatiana’s face.

  Chrysabelle sincerely wished this started a great many rifts that would grow and fracture the families, weakening them until they were as powerless as they had been so many centuries ago. In those days, the squabbling and infighting had made organization nearly impossible and the comarré had been able to manipulate things from behind the scenes with tremendous ease.

  Now the comarré were relegated to their surface abilities, unable to do much more than serve and provide blood, a situation that would only worsen if the nobility’s sense of entitlement grew. A suffocating wave of defeat swept her. She choked it back. She couldn’t leave Damian here. It would be the death of him. Maybe the death of her. To know her brother was trapped in this life of service and forced politeness, valued for nothing more than what flowed in his veins. No, she would not allow that to happen. Not when their mother had enabled Chrysabelle to escape.

  She circled around, headed toward the dais now. The arrangement of plants and animal cages made it easy to slip behind the platform. Not surprisingly, she wasn’t the only comarré who’d figured it out. A few others had found the hidden spot and sought refuge from their patrons there. They nodded at her in greeting, exchanging the knowing glances that said it all: How much longer before this foolishness was over?

  She made her way to the back of Damian’s chair and cleared her throat. He d
idn’t move, just sat looking at the crowd, his large form slouched in the chair like a sack of sand. “Damian,” she whispered.

  He glanced over, then went back to staring at the crowd.

  “Damian, I need to speak with you.”

  Without looking this time, he spoke. “There are no comarré positions available in the Dominus’s household.”

  She scrunched her face up. Was that what he thought she was after? She tugged his sleeve and kept her voice low. “If things go well, there will be after tonight.”

  He twisted around to face her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Might we talk privately?” It wasn’t uncommon for comarré to bear innocuous messages from their patron to that of another comarré. She hoped that was all it appeared she was doing.

  With a beleaguered sigh, he dropped down onto the floor beside her. “What is this about?”

  “Privately,” she reiterated.

  “Fine. Follow me.” He took off at a shamble.

  She followed, wishing he could find the fire to move faster. Was this really her brother? The man who’d helped Creek kill Aliza? The man who’d had the guts to run from Tatiana in the first place? Somehow she’d expected more.

  He led her into a small study, closed the door, and stood waiting, his hands on the back of a large wing chair. “Well?”

  “Damian, it’s me, Chrysabelle.” He would know who she was, wouldn’t he? “You stayed at my house in Paradise City.”

  His brow furrowed. “You don’t look like the Chrysabelle I remember from the Primoris Domus.”

  “I’m disguised. I have friends with me and we’re here to get you out and bring you back to New Florida with us.”

  He blinked long and slow. “Why would you do that?”