Damn vampires.
He’d killed as many as he could. Each one an example of what he’d do to anyone who tried to harm his child.
He laughed softly, bitter and disgusted at himself. He still hadn’t been able to save her. And now, he was forced to sit on his hands or sacrifice his life. Patience was a difficult thing, especially when it came to Mariela’s life.
But he would wait. At least a little while longer.
Creek leaned against the kitchen counter while Annika and Octavian stood across from him. He wasn’t crazy about his place being the new meeting spot for KM business. All the coming and going attracted too much attention. He also didn’t like Octavian arriving before Annika. The vampire had been here half an hour before the sector chief, leaving Creek to play host. Not a job he excelled at.
Annika tipped her head toward him. “How did it go with Preacher?”
“He’s not happy with the mayor being turned, but after I explained the KM to him and what we’re planning, he agreed to sit tight. He wants to be included on whatever we do, though.” Creek shrugged. “The kid is his. I can’t say I blame him or disagree. Her name is Mariela, by the way.”
“Whose name?” Annika asked.
“The child. Preacher called her Mariela. Also, he told me the mayor wanted him to meet with her at her office. I told him to go but keep our meeting a secret. Who knows, maybe we’ll get some info off him the next time I visit.”
She turned to Octavian. “Or you can find out what she wanted with him, assuming it went well with the mayor.”
He almost laughed. “It did. Easier than anticipated, actually. The intel was dead on. She ate up the story about my past and hired me on the spot for the assistant job. As long as she perceives me to be loyal, I should be fine.”
Annika nodded. “Good. Both situations are controlled, then. How much longer before you find out who sired her?”
“She needs companionship and seems very willing to confide in me. Twenty-four hours. Maybe less. I can confirm her sire was House of Paole.”
“I knew it.” Creek shifted to lean on his elbow. “When I saw her that first night, it was like she was a blank space. Couldn’t sense a thing. Preacher told me she tried to get him to sire her, but he refused her. I believe him. He has no love for her.”
Something buzzed. Twice. He realized it was his and Annika’s phones. She reached into her jacket and pulled hers out as he did the same. She held the screen up so he could see the matching alert scrolling across the front. “New police scanner app. Part of the last KM upgrade to all communication systems.”
She pressed her index finger to the screen, then scanned the message, shaking her head. “Not good. A body’s just been found in an alley off of Biscayne Boulevard. Time of death is within the last two hours.” Creek followed her words on his screen, surprised to be getting the same info she was at the same time.
He nodded. “Cause of death appears to be puncture wounds to the neck and exsanguination.”
She made eye contact with him as he looked up. “There goes the quiet. We’ve got a rogue vampire.”
Chapter Eight
Fi’s driver brought the car to a stop in front of the pride headquarters private entrance. On the way, she’d made a call to Chief Vernadetto about getting more background on Remo. Pete had been happy to help, even offering to meet over lunch to discuss his findings. Such a nice guy. She felt fortunate to have met him. There had to be something she could do for him in return.
Her driver opened her door and she slipped out, leaving her bodyguard behind to discuss her schedule with the driver. She moved on autopilot, her thoughts turning to Chrysabelle’s news. Fi’s heart broke every time she thought about it. She couldn’t imagine being pregnant and Doc not loving her, or worse, stalking her like she was a snack. Poor Chrysabelle. After everything she’d endured, now this? Fi resolved right then to stick with her and be there for whatever Chrysabelle might need. Besides, what good was being the pride leader’s mate if she couldn’t help a friend?
She sighed with the realization that Chrysabelle’s secret was now her secret too. How was she going to keep it from Doc? That was going to be tough. She told Doc every—she smacked into a hard, warm body. A step back and she looked up into the eyes of…
Remo.
He grinned at her. “Hello, Fiona.”
Barely controlling the urge to shiver, she looked behind her, but her driver had already disappeared and apparently her bodyguard had gone with him. She forced a smile to cover her nerves. “Sorry for running into you. I have a lot on my mind and I wasn’t paying attention.” She started to move around him. “Good night.”
He stepped into her path. “What’s got you so flustered?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” She made the smile bigger, causing her cheeks to ache. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He didn’t move. “We should get to know each other better, you and I.” He shifted slightly and somehow ended up blocking her path even more. “I had hoped to do that at the welcome dinner last night, but I barely saw you.” A shimmer of gold slipped through his eyes. “Anyone else might think you were avoiding them, but I know you wouldn’t do that.”
“Of course not,” she answered weakly. The fake smile was pointless now. “I was just so busy with the other guests.” Where was Doc when she needed him? Her hand went to her necklace, hidden beneath the vintage rock band T-shirt she’d worn to Chrysabelle’s. At least she didn’t still have the gi on. Remo would know something was up then.
His gaze dropped to her shirt, scruffy jeans, and combat boots. “You looked so beautiful last night. I didn’t expect to see you dressed like…”
“Like what?” His criticism irked her and she decided to let it show. She crossed her arms, waiting for his answer.
“Like a street urchin.”
“Let me guess. Your sister would have never dressed like this and you don’t think it’s becoming for the wife of the pride leader to be seen—”
“Wait a minute. I never said any of that.” His face colored. Almost like he was embarrassed.
“No, but you were thinking it.”
His brow furrowed. “No, I wasn’t. I was thinking how nice that you do not feel so confined by the role of pride leader’s mate that you’ve lost yourself to it.”
Her jaw went slack. “That’s what you were thinking?”
“Is that so strange?” He threw his hands up and strode away. “Go about your business. I see what you think of me. What you all think of me.”
Against her better judgment, she called after him. “Wait.”
He stopped.
“I know it must be hard for you to be here, not knowing anyone, still mourning your sister, and I haven’t been very friendly. I’m sorry.”
He turned around.
“Maybe we could start over?”
“I would like that.” He smiled and nodded, then sadness took his smile away. “Heaven would have never reacted that way. You are much better suited to this position than she. She was my sister, but even I admit she was too spoiled and self-centered to be the kind of partner a pride leader needs.”
Amazed at his confession, Fi saw him with new eyes. He must feel like no one wanted him here. Like a complete outsider. Kind of the way she’d felt right after Doc had killed Sinjin and they’d found out that pride law stated Sinjin’s wife was now Doc’s. The spoils of war and all that. The general vibe from the rest of the pride hadn’t exactly made her feel welcome. She still got a few stink eyes now and then. “Thank you for that.”
He hesitated, then pointed toward the door. “I was headed out to get a drink. Bar Nine isn’t really where I want to hang out at the moment. Do you want to come with me?”
“Where to?”
He laughed. “I actually don’t know. I just thought I’d walk until I came to a place.”
“How about the VIP section of Bar Nine? If the rest of the pride sees we can get along, maybe they’ll get the idea that they should too.”<
br />
“You’d do that for me?”
“Sure.” Also, she had no intention of going anywhere outside headquarters with him alone. She might understand where he was coming from, but that didn’t mean she’d lost her common sense. Doc could be very jealous when he chose to be and there was no point in starting unnecessary rumors. Or chancing it with Remo. This whole poor-me thing could be just an act. “Just give me a few minutes to run upstairs and change.”
“Excellent. I’ll meet you at the bar.”
She nodded. “Back-corner booth. It’s reserved for me. Tell them I said it was okay.”
He stepped aside and as she started past, she caught an odd gleam in his eyes through her peripheral vision. She whipped her head around to look closer, but the expression was gone.
“Something else?” he asked.
“No.” Nothing she could pinpoint. Other than the feeling she might be getting played.
Chrysabelle entered Dominic’s office behind Mortalis, who’d set up the appointment for her. The anathema vampire sat behind his desk, but stood as she walked in. She nodded at him. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Cara mia, per favore, you know you are like family to me.” He came out from behind his desk and approached her with his arms out, but stopped a few feet away and wrinkled his nose. “You are wearing your body armor, are you not?”
“Yes, I am. Sorry, I know this much silver and holy magic so close to you must be very irritating.”
Mortalis spoke up. “I told her to wear it whenever she leaves the house. We have good reason to think Mal is… after her.”
Chrysabelle sighed. “He was watching me last night. The alarm in the house next door was tripped and when the police showed up, they found a dead deer on the property, throat torn out, blood drained.” Just retelling it set her on edge.
Dominic’s brows shot up and he mumbled something in Italian. He snapped his fingers and a lean, dark figure emerged from the sitting area at the far end of the room. “Luciano, you want to make things right with me? You will go to Chrysabelle’s house and protect her. This is what you do, no? So do it.”
Chrysabelle held her hand up. “No, please, I don’t need that.” She sat in the closest chair, her head swimming a little with the number of thoughts running through it. At least her morning sickness had really only hit her during the day. So far this evening, her body seemed fairly normal. She looked at the new vampire. “You’re Dominic’s nephew?” Then back at Dominic. “I have Velimai. I really don’t need anyone else at my house protecting me.”
“It’s a good idea,” Mortalis said. “Luciano is Paole. Mal wouldn’t be able to detect him.”
“He’s also caedo,” Dominic added with an edge of anger Chrysabelle didn’t understand.
Luciano threw his hands up. “Zio!”
“Great,” Chrysabelle muttered. “A vampire assassin. Just what I need.” She rubbed her temples before speaking to Dominic again. “I’m still missing a piece of the puzzle, though, aren’t I? You’re angry at Luciano for something? What does he need to make right with you? If he’s going to be at my home, on my property, I need to know the whole story.”
Dominic went back behind his desk and sat. He crossed his legs and took a long, hard look at Luciano. “This one thought he was doing me a favor.”
Luciano rolled his eyes skyward. “I meant no harm, zio. I swear it.”
Dominic lifted a hand to silence him. “This one…” He shook his head as he turned his attention to Chrysabelle again. “Took it upon himself to help me. How? By giving the mayor what she wanted.”
Luciano wrung his hands. “She dropped the curfew, didn’t she?”
Chrysabelle’s head spun a little harder. “What are you saying?”
Dominic sighed. “He sired the mayor.”
“Holy mother.” A nauseous chill sunk into Chrysabelle’s belly. “Holy. Mother.” Her mouth watered. She swallowed it down. “The mayor is a vampire?” She twisted to look at Mortalis. “How could you not tell me this?”
Mortalis cleared his throat. “I wasn’t sure you could handle the news with everything else going on.”
She stared at her lap, stunned and blinking as the weight of it settled over her. Abruptly, her head came up and she glared at Luciano. “And you’re Paole. Which means the mayor is too. So the mayor is an undetectable vampire. That’s bloody brilliant.”
Luciano swallowed. “I am sure I could find a way to fix—”
“I think you’ve done enough,” Chrysabelle snapped.
Silence filled the room like poison gas. It was clear that none of the men knew what to say to her. Finally, after a long exhale, she spoke a little more calmly. “I came here for a reason.”
“Si, si,” Dominic said. He looked happy to have something new to talk about.
“I need a shipment of blood from your comarré sent to Mal’s freighter every night. I want enough animal blood mixed in so that he won’t be at full power. Do you understand?”
“Si.” Dominic nodded. “Consider it done.”
“That’s not all. Can you dope the blood with some kind of tracking system so that when he drinks it, I’ll be able to know where he is? I don’t need to know how you do it, just if you can.”
“You grow more like your mother every day.” He jotted something on a piece of paper. “Unfortunately, this is not something that can be done. However, if Mal has become this much of a threat to you, I can add something to the blood that will work just as well.”
“Like what?”
Dominic lifted one shoulder. “A touch of this, a touch of that, a hint of laudanum. Enough to keep him so relaxed, he will not be a problem to anyone. And he will not even realize what’s being done.”
She hated the idea of drugging Mal, but… “Okay. I don’t like it, but I like it better than him reverting to killing humans.” If he hadn’t already. Please, holy mother, don’t let him have come to that. “Will you be able to get it to him in such a way that it keeps him from hunting?”
Dominic nodded. “I can enhance the aroma, make it irresistible, make it so that he is drawn to the blood and thinks of nothing else. And I’ll be sure it’s placed in his path. It will be done. You’ll see.”
“Good.” She stood, ready to be home again. “One last thing. I don’t care if Luciano guards my house, but I don’t want to see him, I won’t give him shelter from the day and under no circumstances is he to approach Mal if he shows up. Is that clear?” She knew she sounded harsh but didn’t care. “I just… need my space right now.”
“Absolutely. Perhaps I will find a better use for my errant nephew.” The twinkle in Dominic’s eyes said he found her commands either amusing or charming but she was in no mood to be either.
“Do you think this is funny? This is my life we’re talking about. And the life of my—” She stopped cold, the word “child” dancing on her tongue. Her hand slipped to her stomach. “Brother,” she covered.
The twinkle died, replaced by sudden curiosity. Dominic tipped his head. “How is your brother? And the other comarré? Amylia?”
Afraid she’d say something she’d truly regret, she answered quickly. “They’re both fine. If you’ll excuse me, I really must go. I’m not feeling well.” And with that, she hurried toward the door. Dominic could think what he liked as long as he sent Mal the blood as promised.
“Chrysabelle,” he called after her.
She kept moving. It was that or vomit in his office.
Chapter Nine
The throb of bloodlust infiltrated Mal’s daysleep with an undeniable force. The moment he moved, the voices started up. Their chant of blood, blood, blood multiplied his growing hunger until he could almost smell blood.
He sat up in bed. Actually, he could smell blood. Human blood. Still in the clothes he’d collapsed in when daysleep hit, he stumbled out of his room and down the freighter’s long hall toward the scent. The solars had kicked on with the setting sun, but he could have found his wa
y by the smell alone. It grew stronger as he approached the door to the main deck.
He swung the door open. A container sat a few feet away. Every sense alert, he checked the area but found nothing to indicate it was a trick. He inhaled. Beyond the thick perfume of blood, there was a faint trace of spice. The smell of vampire. Namely, Dominic.
A satisfied smile curled Mal’s lips. About time Dominic started giving him what he was due.
He wrenched the top of the container off. Inside sat four bags of blood, still warm thanks to the container’s insulation. He grabbed them and with one final look around, headed back inside. These would be just enough to fuel him for an evening of hunting. The deer he’d had at Chrysabelle’s had barely scratched the surface of his need.
Squeezing one of the bags to tighten it up, he sank his fangs in and drank. The blood was definitely human, probably from Dominic’s comarré, but a little flat tasting. Maybe because nothing compared to drinking straight from Chrysabelle’s vein, something he’d do again, very soon. Yes, the voices urged. Soon.
Swallowing the last of the bag’s contents, he tossed it away and started downing another. Halfway through it, his feet got harder to lift, his body less responsive. Still the voices urged him to drink more. Blood, blood, blood.
He struggled to keep his head up. The remaining two bags slipped out of his grasp. The one he’d just about emptied followed after, falling with a soft plop onto the metal flooring. Stooping to retrieve it made everything go sideways. He put his hands out to steady himself, but ran into the wall anyway. He dragged his feet over the threshold of his room. The light from the solars dimmed like they were running out of juice. Was dawn coming? He couldn’t feel the sun approaching. No, definitely night. The sun had just set. The voices went quiet.
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