Bad Blood

by Kristen Painter

  The barbs on Mortalis’s forearms flexed in and out. Chrysabelle tried to refocus the situation. “I’m not killing anyone for you.”

  Loudreux shrugged. “Your vamp friend brought that up, not me. You can remove the guardian any way you like. As far as replacements go, there are a few people on my short list, but they may take a little convincing. That’s the second part of your assignment.”

  She had to talk her way through this or she was going to blow up. “Why do the fae even need a haven city? Most vampires can’t stand the taste of fae blood. It’s not like you’re getting picked off by nobility in this part of the world. I can see the lure of being able to daywalk, but are vampires really that much a threat to your way of life here?”

  With thinly disguised contempt in his eyes, Loudreux tilted forward. “Cheri, the haven city isn’t to protect the fae, it’s to protect the rest of you. Some of the kin contained in these city limits make your shadeux friend here seem about as dangerous as a bunch of daffodils. We don’t even like to speak their names lest they hear us and think we’re calling them, so you don’t worry about the why, just the doing.”

  Maybe she should just run her sacre through this cypher’s gut and be done with him. But then she wouldn’t get the ring, and her chances of finding her brother would disappear. “Where do I find the current guardian and the possible replacements?”

  “So you accept?” Loudreux looked surprised.

  She scowled at him. “What choice did you give me?”

  “You could always abandon the ring.”

  The comment snapped one of her few remaining threads of control. She leaped over the table that separated them, coming down inches from Loudreux. His cup and saucer rattled on the table beside him. Blu whipped out a knife and poised to throw it, but Chrysabelle ignored her, leaning down and confronting the wide-eyed cypher as face-to-face as a person could get. “That ring is mine. You have no claim to it. None. In fact, the only ones who seem to have any real claim to it besides me are the Kubai Mata. Would you like me to tell them where their ring is? Because I’m sure they’d find a way to get it back.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Loudreux breathed.

  “Not yet, I wouldn’t. But I’d like to point out that you should be very glad I’m not willing to abandon that ring, because if I was, I’d have no reason to keep you alive.”

  Loudreux closed his mouth and swallowed. Without taking his eyes off her, he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. “Fellows, that envelope from my desk.”

  Chrysabelle straightened as the butler left. She kept her eyes on Loudreux while Fellows was gone, enjoying the way the cypher’s discomfort grew with every passing second.

  Finally, Fellows returned. “Your envelope, sir.”

  Loudreux took it and held it out by the end toward Chrysabelle. “All the information you need is in there.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Svetla met Tatiana and Daci at the front door of Grigor’s estate. Tonight she wore crimson silk. The color made her already pale skin chalky, washing her out in a way that made Tatiana smile. Svetla didn’t return the expression. “The council is waiting, as they have been for the last eighteen hours.”

  With Daci at her elbow, Tatiana entered and steeled her mind against any potential invasion from Svetla or Grigor. Daci would be doing the same. No one in this house was to be trusted. She shrugged out of her fur and handed it off to a servant, but kept her gloves on and her metal prosthesis covered. Being here meant she was missing Samhain in Paradise City. A night in which she could have gathered residual power in bundles. A night in which she could have at last been victorious against the comarré. But no, she was here at the council’s whim. If things did not go her way, she would break from the nobility and their rules and do as she damn well pleased. “Hello to you, too, Svetla. I’m not sure which is paler, the snow covering the ground or your skin. Perhaps you should feed.”

  Svetla sniffed. “Why am I not surprised a gypsy fails to understand the beauty of porcelain skin?”

  Tatiana let the gypsy comment roll off her and turned to Daci. “Svetla is the Elder of the House of Rasputin. She was the second female Elder to ever be appointed.”

  Having already been briefed with this information, Daci smiled at Svetla as though she were about to speak to someone with a head wound. “It must be difficult for you.”

  “What must be?” Svetla asked.

  “The constant comparison,” Daci answered. “Being in the shadow of someone like Tatiana. What a high bar to reach.”

  Svetla scowled, gave Daci a dismissive glare, then turned and strode off down the hall. Tatiana followed, giving Daci a wink. What a treasure this one was turning out to be. Tatiana had never had a sister in her human life, only brothers who’d treated her like a servant. Impulsively, she reached out and gave Daci’s hand a squeeze.

  Daci responded by mocking Svetla’s hip-swaying walk, making Tatiana cough to cover up a sudden laugh. She smiled. A rare, genuine smile. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt this way. Her hand found the locket around her neck. Yes, she could. It had been many, many years ago.

  They rounded the corner, turning down the hall that led to the council meeting room. Svetla stopped them before the doors. “I’ll go in and see if they’re ready for you.”

  Pompous git. “They’re ready.” Tatiana pushed past and swung into the room. The Dominus were all there, seated as before with their Elders behind them. She made a shallow curtsy. The pressure of Grigor’s mental probing tested her walls. What arrogance. “My lords, I apologize for my late arrival, but I understand you were made aware of my situation.”

  Svetla rushed in behind Daci. “I’m sorry, my lords. She barged in before I could announce her. And her guest.” Svetla cut her eyes at Daci.

  Lord Syler raised his hand. “It’s all right. We were expecting her, after all.” He gestured to an empty chair at the table. “Please be seated, Tatiana. Your guest will have to wait outside. At least until our matter is taken care of.”

  “Of course. My guest, Daciana Bracey, is an upstanding member of the House of Tepes. If I ascend to Dominus, she will become Elder.” Tatiana turned, nodding to Daci to indicate that it was all right to wait outside. She bent her head in response and left. Tatiana took her seat, pleased that the council’s attitude seemed more… mellow toward her. It wasn’t a word she’d ever thought to associate with this group of musty old males, but whatever had brought the change about, she liked it. Perhaps this was a good omen that she was about to achieve the position she’d been striving for.

  “Already appointing an Elder?” Lord Zephrim snorted loudly. “As always, you assume too much.”

  She gave him a full-on stare that had reduced lesser vampires to bumbling fools. Of course, in Zephrim’s case, he already had the fool part down. “I’ve only assumed that the council is ready to give me an answer. If that’s not the case, why else have you called me here with such urgency?”

  Svetla took her seat behind Lord Grigor as he spoke. “You assume correctly. The ancient one was located. He told us to bring you back, then summon him so he might announce his decision.”

  At last. Tatiana’s joy threatened to bubble over into something very unbecoming. She looked down for a moment to compose herself.

  Grigor laughed softly, an unpleasant sound that grated on her nerves. “You should be worried. The ancient one seemed more agitated than usual.”

  She held still for a few long seconds. Was this not going to turn out the way she thought? If the ancient one was upset with her… She’d had no communication with him in some time. And she still didn’t have the ring or the comarré. Her joy evaporated and she lifted her head, resolved to whatever might happen. “I’m sure the ancient one only wishes, like I do, to be done with this endless waiting. As I have said before, I will abide by whatever they decide. May the ancient ones be served.”

  The others recited the words in unison. “May the ancient ones be served.”

 
Lord Timotheius raised his wineglass toward Grigor. “As we are still in your house, the privilege to call them falls upon you.”

  He nodded stiffly. “Of course. It is my honor.”

  Tatiana pursed her mouth against a laugh. An honor that made him tremble.

  Grigor stood, outstretched his arms, his palms up. With a deep sigh and a slow blink, he spoke. “Castus Sanguis, hear your children. Come to us and grace us with thy presence.”

  Unlike the last time Grigor had called the ancient ones, Tatiana wasn’t disappointed. A great flash of light and the sharp piercing sourness of brimstone and unwashed flesh shattered the air at the room’s far end. Smoke billowed up around the towering Samael, his body clad from the waist down in a skirt of shadows shifting with faces and limbs. From the waist up, his skin was a shiny, dark red, like dried meat.

  “My children,” he greeted them. His eyes went to Tatiana. Was that a spark of pleasure? Could he be pleased to see her? With no small hope, she allowed herself a fraction of a smile.

  Grigor bowed his head. “My lord, as you know, the House of Tepes is in need of a new Dominus.” He pointed his hand at Tatiana. “This one comes to take the position. We await your approval.”

  The Castus’s mouth pulled back in a mutilated grin. “Granted.”

  And just like that, she was Dominus. Her smile went smug, but she didn’t care what the other Dominus thought. She was one of them now. Their peer. They could no longer command her about like an underling. She nodded with as much humility as she could muster, despite the unrelenting surge welling up inside her. “Thank you, Ancient One. I will not disappoint you.”

  “No, you will not.” The Castus’s voice spilled from his gullet like shards of rock tumbling down a metal grate. He turned his attention to the others again. “Now, I have a matter of my own that needs attending.”

  The lords murmured in obeisance. “Of course, Ancient One. Anything. Yes, my lord.”

  Parrots, the lot of them. She lifted her voice above the others, determined to show them immediately how different her reign as Dominus would be. “What is it you desire, my liege?”

  Samael cast his gaze upon her, the sparkle in his eyes undeniably amused. “The witch who is responsible for Ivan’s death. I want her dead. Then burn her house and the houses of her coven to the ground.”

  Tatiana stood and made a small curtsy. “Consider it done, my lord. What else would you like?”

  He threw his head back and laughed, shattering the carafes of blood and vodka on the table and giving them all a glimpse of the dagger teeth that surrounded his black maw. “My daughter, you please me. As such, you may expect a visit from me later.”

  Her smile faltered. That was not the result she’d intended. She played it off with a shake of her head and lowered eyes. “You honor me and my new Elder, Daciana.” Daci must be listening to this from her bench outside the doors.

  His gaze razored across the other Dominus while one talon-tipped finger pointed at Tatiana. “Mind your sister. She and her”—he paused, a slight wicked grin bending his mouth—“ family are to be protected. Any harm befalls them and my anger will be assuaged with your ashes.”

  Another brilliant burst of fire and flame and Samael vanished. The faces of the other Dominus were pricelessly stunned, a mix of open mouths and incredulous gazes. Tatiana lifted her chin and snapped her fingers to get their attention. “Have the driver bring my car around. I’ll be taking the Dominus’s jet. I expect it to be fueled. Svetla, be a dear and fetch my fur, will you?”

  The council and their Elders sat staring.

  With nary a trace of humanity upon her face, Tatiana bellowed, “Now!”

  At last, the old men jumped to their feet to do her bidding. Grigor sent Svetla scurrying out. Smiling, Tatiana went to collect Daci and return home. Well, Tatiana would be returning home in the plane she arrived on to await the Castus. Daci would be taking the Dominus’s supersonic jet straight back to Paradise City to capture Chrysabelle and bring her back for real.

  The reign of the House of Tepes had finally begun.

  Velimai answered the door at Chrysabelle’s, her eyes shifting to Havoc with a question. Creek appreciated that she had let them onto the property without knowing more, until he saw Doc and the comar behind her, both with weapons aimed in their direction. Fi peeked around from the entrance into the living room.

  “This is John Havoc, wolf varcolai. He’s the head of security for the mayor. He’s cool. Havoc, Velimai here basically runs the house. She’s a—”

  “Wysper.” Havoc signed something.

  Velimai returned a few new signs, then Havoc responded, to which she laughed her soundless laugh. She glanced back at the two men and nodded. Creek made a mental note to ask Havoc what he’d said later. Doc sheathed the dagger in his hand and stepped aside. “What’s up?”

  They entered and Creek made a quick intro as Velimai shut the door. “Havoc, this is Doc. He’s the leopard-shifter I was telling you about.”

  Havoc stuck his hand out. “Good to meet you. Creek speaks highly of you.”

  “Does he.” Doc shook Havoc’s hand, but his gaze stayed a long moment on Creek before returning to Havoc. Doc tipped his head toward the comar. “Damian is Tatiana’s former comar.”

  Havoc pushed his shades onto his head. “Tatiana’s the vampire after Chrysabelle, right?”

  “That’s the one.” Creek jerked his head at Damian. “Where’s the comarré who was with you in the guesthouse?”

  Damian snorted. “Long story.”

  “For another time,” Doc added. “Let’s just say she had other plans than hanging out here. What brings you two here?”

  “First of all, another of Dominic’s comarré has turned up dead.”

  “That explains the cops at Seven,” Fi said, coming to stand beside Doc. “What’s second?”

  “The mayor knows Julia had a baby right before she was murdered. She also knows the baby isn’t fully human. She wants the kid brought to her.” Creek sighed. “I’m not going to rip the kid out of the father’s hands, but I figure we should at least check and see if this vampire is taking care of the baby or what.”

  “Or what,” Doc answered. “Preacher doesn’t have the baby anymore.”

  “How do you know?”

  Fi crossed her arms. Her jaw tensed and for a split second, she flickered transparent. To Creek, it looked like her throat was torn out, but the image disappeared as quickly as it had come. He knew Mal had killed her. Maybe that was how he’d done it. Poor kid.

  Doc slung his big arm over Fi’s shoulders. “Because under a spell controlled by the witch’s daughter, I took the baby from Preacher and delivered it to her. But don’t bother thinking you’re going to rescue the kid. There was a fight and Evie got killed by her own magic. The Castus got loose and grabbed the baby. Before it could finish me off, it disappeared.”

  “Castus?” Havoc asked.

  “Remember the thing that attacked me right after I found Julia’s body?” Creek nodded. “It’s that.”

  Havoc swore under his breath.

  “You can say that again,” Damian added. “If the witches had it contained in the first place, they must be pretty knowledgeable. It takes strong blood magic to call one of the ancient ones. More blood to hold it.”

  It was Doc’s turn to swear. “They had Mal’s blood. I can’t imagine blood more powerful than his.” He pulled Fi a little closer. “This city’s going to get seriously weird come midnight, and we have no idea if Mal and Chrysabelle will be back before then. Best thing we can do now is prepare for tonight.”

  “Good idea.” Creek turned to Havoc. “You’ve got to convince the mayor that all Halloween-related activities need to be canceled citywide. No parade, no trick-or-treating, no parties, nothing. I don’t care if she has to make up a bomb threat. She’s got to keep people in their homes.”

  Havoc shook his head. “That’s a tall order. I’ll do what I can. What do you want me to tell her about her grandch
ild?”

  “Tell her the truth. The child is gone, beyond our reach. There’s no point in keeping anything from her.” Creek pointed to Doc. “You feel secure here?”

  “Not after the hit we took last night, but it’s better than Mal’s.”

  Creek would find out more about that later. “What about Seven?”

  Doc’s eyes narrowed. “What about it?”

  “It’s probably the most secure place you could be considering what could go down tonight.”

  “Not a chance in hell I’m going there or that Dominic’s going to let us in.”

  Damian nodded. “Fi and I went to see him earlier and he refused us. I say we stay here. We’re armed and we’re formidable enough in our own right. As long as we stay inside, we’re fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Doc glanced at the others around him. “Positive.”

  “All right, then.”

  “What about you?” Fi asked.

  Creek planted his feet. “I’m staying here with you. If Tatiana’s still in the city, you can believe she’s going to take advantage of tonight.” Creek glanced at the front door. “She’ll be back.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Amery parked them on a side street in the business district. Mal waited while Chrysabelle scanned the information Loudreux had given her one more time. Mortalis sat in the seat in front of Mal, staring straight ahead. Since they’d left Loudreux’s, the fae had practically shimmered with anger but had yet to say a word. Sooner or later, it would come out and when it did, Mal knew from experience it wasn’t going to be pretty. Maybe he’ll kill you.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” Chrysabelle folded the paper and tucked it back inside the envelope. Frustration tensed her pretty face. “What reason would this guardian have for stepping aside? He’s apparently living a pretty high life. I can’t offer him anything better. And I’m not killing him. I’m not a murderer.” Her hands balled into fists, the signum glinting. “I just want my ring back.”