“Stop him,” Creek yelled. “Turn him to stone.” But it was too late. Octavian was gone.
Annika shook her head. “Wouldn’t have worked. I couldn’t make eye contact.” She ground her teeth in frustration. “Bring him in alive. Do nothing else until that’s accomplished.” She started to leave, then stopped. “Let the mayor know Octavian is now considered a threat. Tell her whatever you like, but don’t disclose that he’s KM.”
Creek nodded. “Will do.”
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Watch yourself. If he stays in the city, I’m sure you’ll be a target.”
“Where else do you think he’d go?”
She frowned as her wings unfurled. “Back to Tatiana. That’s why we need him contained.”
Lola dropped her head back and licked her lips. “Thank you,” she sighed.
Hector nodded and smiled, holding his wrist up with a handkerchief pressed to the bite mark she’d left behind. “It is my pleasure.” He stayed at her side.
She lifted her head enough to look at him. “Something else?”
“Are you pleased with me? With my blood, I mean?”
She nodded. “Of course.” The taste had changed, but Luciano claimed that was nothing to be concerned with so she’d let it drop. In fact, Hector’s blood seemed to invigorate her more than usual these days. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
“No, my lady. I just always want to make sure you’re happy with me. That’s all.” With a little dip of his head, he went to the end of the sofa and took up his usual spot.
A strange buzzing, clicking sound distracted her from any further thought on the subject. “What is that?”
Hector shook his head. “Sounds like bees, my lady. Do you want me to shut the windows?”
“No, it’s such a nice night, I love having them—” A swarm of something spilled into the room and a dark form appeared before her. “What in the hell!” She jumped off the sofa. Octavian stood in the middle of her home office. “How did you do that?”
“It’s called scattering. Some vampires can do it, some can’t.” He pointed at Hector. “Leave us.”
Hector looked at her for direction. She stood her ground. “He goes nowhere until you tell me what this is about.”
Octavian looked peeved, but so what. She was driving this bus. He made an unhappy noise. “I’ve done some thinking, like you asked me to.”
That hadn’t taken nearly as long as she’d thought it would. “In that case… Hector, give us a few minutes.” She sat back down while he left. “So. How do I contact these ancients?”
“Forget them. They’ve given your child to another vampire to raise.”
“What?”
“I can take you to her.”
Lola stood. “When can we leave?”
“Do you have access to a private plane? We can’t go commercial, obviously.”
“I can find one.”
He nodded. “As soon as you can arrange it, we can leave.”
She clutched the back of the nearest chair. “I could be meeting my grandchild by this time tomorrow.”
“That’s right. Imagine being able to hold her for the first time. Being able to bring her home.”
Her hands were trembling. “At last. This is what I’ve been working for.”
“What you’ve sacrificed for,” he added.
“Thank you, Octavian.” She’d misjudged him. “I owe you.”
He smiled. “Just seeing you with her will be payment enough.” The smile vanished. “I’ll be at the private airport waiting. Get that plane as fast as you can and meet me there. The longer it takes, the less chance we have of making this happen.”
She was about to ask why when he scattered again and flew out the window.
Tatiana’s home was enormous, but Mal also knew it was the Dominus estate. Its size and grandeur came because of its status, not from the vampire who currently lived in it. Still, to think that the woman who’d once been his human wife, a woman who’d eked out her living by stealing and conning, a woman who’d ended up on the gallows to pay for her crimes, now resided in a mansion that could house hundreds… He shook his head. There was no justice in the world. He was certainly proof of that. Loser loser loser.
He snorted softly. The voices were really having a hard time adjusting to his old self being gone. He almost felt sorry for them. Almost.
Having to pretend to be on her side was going to be undiluted torture, but if it meant a safe future for his family, he would play his part with every ounce of imagination he had. He reached for the heavy door knocker, then paused. Old Mal wouldn’t knock.
Hefting his bag in one hand, he shoved the door open and walked inside. “Tatiana,” he bellowed as he walked through the main hall. “Where are you?”
A moment later, a female servant ran into the room. “May I help you?”
“Who are you? Where’s Tatiana?”
“I’m Kosmina, my lord. My lady is in her study. If you’ll just wait a moment—”
He walked past her. “Which way?”
She hurried to catch up with him. “I’d be happy to get her for you. Who did you say you were?”
Farther down the hall, a door opened and Tatiana stepped out. She raised her brows, but her surprise quickly turned into a smirk. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
“Well, you were wrong. As usual.”
Kosmina went to Tatiana’s side. “I’m sorry, my lady. He just barged in and—”
Tatiana held her hand up. “It’s fine. I’d expect nothing less from him.” She strode toward him, sashaying her hips in that way of hers, a not-so-subtle smile playing on her lips. “So happy you decided to join me. I’d hate to put you on my naughty list again.”
He grabbed her hand as she reached for him. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not here for you. I’m here for the payoff. Understood?”
“Just like the old days.” She laughed, wrapping her fingers around his. “If that’s what gets you through, it’s all right with me.”
Kosmina cleared her throat. “Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?”
“Yes,” Tatiana purred, never taking her eyes off Mal. “Take Lord Bourreau to the guest suite. The one in the north wing.” She slipped her hand from his, only to trail her fingers down his arm. “I own a comarré. I’ll send her in to feed you.”
That was news to Mal. “Why do you own a comarré?”
The mirth left her face and her eyes silvered. “She belonged to my late consort. And since he won’t be needing her anymore…” She smiled again but it was noticeably forced. “Consider her my gift to you.”
“You know I can’t drink from the vein.” Unless it was Chrysabelle’s. He had no intention of trying that feat on anyone else. Just the idea of drinking another’s comarré’s blood felt like cheating, especially after being with her on the plane. All for the cause, he reminded himself.
She shrugged. “Bleed her, then.” She waved her hand as she walked back to her study. “Be back here in one hour. We have much to discuss.” She snapped her fingers. “Kosmina, our guest.”
“Yes, my lady.” But Kosmina answered to a closed door. She curtsied toward Mal. “If you would just follow me, Lord Bourreau. Shall I take your bag, sir?”
He wanted to say no, that it was ridiculous for a woman to carry his bag, but that wasn’t the proper response. He tossed his bag in her direction, inwardly cringing at his actions.
She caught it, but just barely. “Very good, sir.”
He followed her to his quarters, noting they were only two halls away from Tatiana’s. He would have liked more space between them.
Kosmina opened the door and went in, dropping his bag on the bed. “Shall I unpack you, sir?”
“No.” The room was everything he’d expected it to be. Completely overdone and stuffed with priceless antiques and art. Tatiana must have wept with joy when she’d been able to move in here.
; The servant didn’t leave. “H-Have you known Lady Tatiana long?”
Interesting. And brave. He studied the fresco on the ceiling. Blue sky, white clouds, darting swallows. Vampires loved to remind themselves of what they’d lost, didn’t they? “Since she was human.”
Kosmina’s eyes went wide. “Are you Malkolm Bourreau? But that means you’re…”
He turned to face her. “That’s right. I’m Tatiana’s husband.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Chrysabelle hoped Mal was having better luck than she was. Rennata may have allowed the comarré here to let her in, but she had yet to show. So far, she’d kept Chrysabelle waiting for almost half an hour. Maybe she wasn’t coming out at all. Maybe this was some strange new punishment. Chrysabelle got off the couch and walked toward the passageways that led back into the heart of the Primorus Domus. Could she still access those halls or did becoming disavowed change that?
“Thinking about visiting your old cell?”
She turned at the voice. “There you are, Rennata. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
“I shouldn’t have.” Rennata stared at her with more hauteur than Chrysabelle thought possible in one woman. “I had to see for my own eyes that you dared come back here. Your sense of what’s appropriate astounds me.”
“Get off your high horse, Rennata. A bigger problem exists than me being in your precious house. An actual threat. A vampire greater than any other that has ever been created has arisen out of the ranks of the ancients. The kind of vampire that makes other nobles fear for their existence.” She paused to let the information sink in. “The time has come for the comarré to rise up and join forces against this new vampire.”
Rennata was quiet for several seconds, and then her face cracked into laughter. “Oh, give me a moment to catch my breath.” She wiped at her eyes. “You do live such a drama-filled life, Chrysabelle. How do you manage to always be in the center of so much excitement?”
Chrysabelle strode forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. “This isn’t a joke, you foolish old woman. You know Tatiana’s vampire baby, Lilith? I’m sure you’ve heard of her. The ancients decided to feed her their blood and in doing so, turned her into a full-grown monster.”
Rennata batted her away. “Take your hands off me. If that was true, why wouldn’t I know about it? We know about Lilith of course, but she’s a baby.”
“If the ancients don’t want it known, why would you?” Chrysabelle’s insides felt like fire. All her life she’d been trained for the moment of uprising, knowing it would come, just not knowing when. Now Rennata was acting like the threat of Lilith was no threat at all. “What must be done to alert the rest of the comarré?”
Rennata narrowed her eyes. “Nothing. Because we’re not going to alert the rest of the comarré. You’re going to leave and be thankful you’re getting out of here without a scratch on you.” She lifted her chin. “Remember that, because it won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t, because I’d kill you first this time.” Chrysabelle leaned in. “Try me. I killed a fae a few days ago just for being in love with me.”
Rennata jerked back. “You’ve lost your mind.”
Chrysabelle turned and started toward the right-hand corridor. A cluster of comarrés stood there watching, but scattered like mice at her approach. “Maybe. I’ll let the Aurelian decide.”
Dead silence for a heartbeat. “You are insane. How dare you visit her when you’re disavowed.”
Chrysabelle kept going. “She’s already tried to kill me.” She patted the hilt of one sacre standing over her shoulder. “But I’ve learned to anticipate.”
Rennata raced to join her. “You can’t do this. I won’t allow it.”
“Put your hands on me and you’ll regret it.” She stopped outside the carved double doors that guarded the house’s portal to the Aurelian. Every comarré house had one, but few comarré ever used it. They were taught to fear the Aurelian, to respect her for her age and wisdom and her part in the creation of the comarré, whatever that might be.
Chrysabelle put her hand on the door, then gave Rennata one last chance. “You coming? Why not let the Aurelian decide this?”
“I don’t take my orders from her.” Rennata’s angry words sliced through the hall’s quiet.
Chrysabelle shrugged. “If you’re not curious…” She pushed through the door.
Rennata followed. “I’m only coming to keep an eye on you.”
“Suit yourself.” As soon as the door swung shut, a flash of light flooded the space. Chrysabelle blinked. And met the Aurelian’s eyes.
“You.” Nadira rose from her chair. “I thought I killed you.”
Rennata glanced at Chrysabelle, then immediately dropped to her knees. “She barged past me. I couldn’t—”
“Quiet,” Nadira snapped. She walked out from behind her worktable, laden with scrolls, maps, books, and an assortment of objects, but kept her hand on the hilt of the massive sword resting atop the whole mess. “I said I thought I killed you.”
“You did,” Chrysabelle answered. She hooked her thumbs in her pockets, pushing back the sides of her leather jacket so the twin daggers at her waist could be seen. “But death doesn’t seem to stick to me ever since I melted down the ring of sorrows and used that gold to replace the signum Rennata stripped out of my back.”
Nadira’s mouth came open. She closed it slowly, swallowing. “You foolish child. No wonder you didn’t die.” Her fingers tightened around the sword’s hilt. “What do you want of me?”
Chrysabelle smiled. It was nice to hear a little bit of fear in the Aurelian’s voice. “I’m so happy you asked.”
Doc parked his car a few streets away, praying to Bast that the alarm system kept it from being jacked. In this part of town, there were no guarantees. He checked the address on his phone again, hoping the file on Fritz was up to date.
He climbed the four flights to apartment E. There were voices coming from inside—sounded like an argument—but the building wasn’t exactly built for privacy, meaning too many other conversations overlapped. Picking out more than a few words was impossible. He knocked twice, then waited.
A few moments later, Fritz came to the door. Behind wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes widened. “Maddoc Mays.” He almost shouted Doc’s name. “What are you doing here?” Still too loud for normal conversation.
Weird, but then Fritz was an odd dude. “I’m not here to hurt you, if that’s what you think. No need to freak out. I just want to talk.”
Fritz didn’t budge. The door was only open about eight inches. He glanced to the side of the room Doc couldn’t see, his body language twitchy and nervous. “We can talk right here.”
The dude needed to calm down. “I’d like to come inside. I’ve already told you I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I don’t want to—” The sound of breaking glass came from inside.
“Are you in trouble?” Doc didn’t wait for an answer. He shoved Fritz out of the way and ran inside. Every room was visible from the apartment’s tiny living room. The kitchen window had been broken.
Doc ran over and looked through the window. He caught the top of a head as someone made their way down the fire escape. The person wore a ball cap and was dressed in all black. The lack of streetlights made it impossible to make out more detail. He dashed back to the front door and past Fritz. “Call the cops. I’ll catch the intruder.”
He shifted into leopard form halfway down the first flight of steps. By the time he got out of the building and turned down toward the alley where the fire escapes ended, the intruder was disappearing out the other end.
Doc poured on the speed, pushing himself through the dark streets as fast as he could go. What few solars existed in this part of town were mostly broken. The runner smelled like varcolai, but that was all Doc could make out. Finally, he got close enough to swipe one big paw across the intruder’s back, tearing through his jacket and shirt. Blood welled from the four thin sl
ices.
The man glanced back. A bandana covered his nose and mouth. There was no way Doc could ID him from the sliver visible between the ball cap and fabric. When the man saw Doc, he leaped into the air, shifted into a jaguar, and blasted forward. Police cars barreled down the street ahead of them, screeching to a stop as they blocked the road. The jaguar sailed past the cops as they jumped out of their cars.
One stepped into Doc’s path, tranq gun pointed right between his eyes. “One move and I drop you.”
Doc shifted back to his human form, pointing after the intruder. “Damn it. That’s the one you want, not me.”
The cop took one hand off the tranq gun to click a receiver button on his collar. “Suspect has been apprehended.”
“Cripes. I had the cops called. I’m not the one you’re after,” Doc explained.
Both hands back on the gun, the cop ignored him. “Sir, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”
“When are we going to meet her?” Lola paced the hangar. Being in Romania felt no different than being in New Florida. Not yet anyway.
Octavian scowled. “I told you, as soon as the sun sets and the car service can take us into the city. Your impatience won’t make that happen any faster.”
“I can’t take this waiting. I want to go get her now. She could be in trouble, she could be hurt, she could be—” Lola stopped. “Do you think she senses I’m here?”
“Shut up,” Octavian snarled. “Your incessant talking is driving me mad.”
“How dare you speak to me that way? I’m still your employer, you—”
Eyes silver, he backhanded her, cracking her lip and knocking her back a few steps. “I told you to be quiet and if you haven’t figured out that you’re not the one in charge by now, then you’re dumber than you look.”
She put a hand to her face, but the pain there was nothing compared to the anger building in her heart. The coppery flavor of her own blood coated her tongue. “I should—”
“You should do nothing if you want your grandchild back.”
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