Last Blood hoc-5

by Kristen Painter

  She nodded, fuming inside and planning his demise. Once she had Mariela.

  His eyes gleamed with a determination she hadn’t seen before. “You will be quiet and do as you’re told. Understand?”

  She nodded again. She understood that when she had Mariela safe in her arms and they were back in Paradise City, she would turn him over to Luciano. If she didn’t kill him herself. Octavian had to be the one who’d killed Katsumi. Clearly, he was capable of it. And now, here she was, trapped with him in this strange place. Only the thought of rescuing Mariela kept her from attacking him.

  When the car arrived after sunset, she got in when Octavian told her to, sat where he said to, and kept her mouth shut. She hadn’t become mayor by being stupid but if that’s what he wanted to think, let him. Throughout her political career, many men had underestimated her: opponents who had fallen short as the tallied votes came out in her favor, as her initiatives were passed and her ordinances put into action.

  She watched Octavian, waiting for the first sign of weakness. Maybe she wouldn’t wait until they were back in Paradise City. Maybe all she’d turn over to Luciano was ashes.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  A report on Creek’s scanner app had led him to this section of town, but the soft whuffs of an animal in pain stopped him. He crept down the alley, almost to the end before he saw the creature. Behind a stack of trash cans and recycling bins lay an enormous spotted cat. It sprawled on its side, panting hard. Creek turned on his flashlight and scanned the animal’s body. Four narrow parallel gashes marked its back. The report about a burglary in progress lost its appeal.

  The creature growled at him. Creek lifted the hand not holding the flashlight and backed up a step. “Easy there, not an enemy. You need help?”

  The growling stopped, replaced with another whuff.

  “I have no idea what that means. You want me to call an ambulance? Or a vet? I don’t know what you varcolai do in cases like this.” He flicked the light over the gashes again. They looked smaller.

  He nodded. “I get it. You’re healing. You just want to be left alone, right?” He started to back out of the alley. “No worries. I was looking for someone else anyway.”

  He cut out of there, but found a spot across the street to park himself. The blood scent was bound to draw fringe; the least he could do was keep them off the shifter. Over the next few hours, a few drifted into the alley, but they retreated to the sounds of menacing snarls. The shifter obviously didn’t need his help. Creek was about to head out when a man limped out of the alley. Creek didn’t recognize him, but snapped a few pics on his phone anyway. In this town, sometimes things were exactly what they seemed, and sometimes they weren’t. He hung a while longer, hoping the lingering blood scent might even lure Octavian, but no such luck.

  He resumed his patrol route. Might be time to pay Dominic a visit, let him know what had happened with Octavian. Creek had no desire to step foot into Seven, but Dominic wasn’t the kind of man to take a death like Katsumi’s easily. He probably already had his own people working on it. Damn it. That might mean Luciano.

  Creek turned back toward his apartment and broke into a run. He needed his bike. He had to get to Seven fast. Better Dominic found out about Octavian from him than discover it on his own and take matters into his own hands.

  A vampire set on revenge was a very dangerous thing.

  “I’m here for a very good reason, Nadira.” Chrysabelle addressed the Aurelian like an old friend, something she definitely wasn’t, but Chrysabelle had learned from Mal that throwing people off guard was a great way to keep them guessing. Plus, it helped mask her fear. The Aurelian might not be able to kill her again, but that wouldn’t stop Nadira from trying. “The Castus have raised a monster that sets even the nobles on edge. I want the comarré alerted so this new threat can be dealt with swiftly. The moment for them to rise up has come.”

  Nadira relaxed, but only slightly. “What monster is this? I’ve heard nothing.”

  “The vampire baby. They fed her their blood and grew her into some kind of super vampire.”

  Nadira nodded, dropping her head for a moment. “I did not know they had brought her back into this world.”

  “You knew about this?” Chrysabelle threw her hands up. “What’s being done?”

  “Nothing,” Nadira answered. “We knew, but there was no sign they would bring her out of the Castus plane and back to the mortal one. You know this for sure, that she’s been seen?”

  “She killed one of Tatiana’s soldiers.”

  Nadira peered at her, uncertainty in her eyes. “How do you know this?”

  “It came from Tatiana’s mouth. She told it to someone who wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “Who is that person?”

  This was going to go over big. “Malkolm.”

  Nadira’s lip curled. “The vampire who twice dared breach my sanctuary.”

  Chrysabelle jabbed a shaking finger at Nadira. “The second time it was to save my life. I should kill you myself for what you did.” She took a breath, forced herself to calm down. Yelling at the Aurelian wouldn’t accomplish the task at hand but it might start a fight. “And in case you’re wondering, I found Damian, no thanks to you.”

  “It was not my place to help you. Those records are sealed for a reason.”

  Stupid, worthless… she took another calming breath since the first one hadn’t worked. “Are you going to raise the comarré forces?”

  Nadira turned and pulled a large book off the shelf behind her, then sat and paged through it. At last, she looked up. “No. This is not the time.”

  A muscle in Chrysabelle’s jaw spasmed in anger and she realized that the fear the Aurelian had once instilled in her was completely gone. With a quiet but determined voice, she spoke. “What good are you, Nadira? You offer me no help. You never have.” She slid one of her sacres from its sheath. Rennata inhaled loudly. “I would be well within my rights to consider you my enemy, wouldn’t you say? You are an obstacle in my path.” She leveled the sword at Nadira. “Do you know what I do to obstacles?”

  The rise and fall of Nadira’s chest increased. “Rennata, curb your comarré.”

  “She’s mine no longer.” Rennata’s voice quavered. “She’s been disavowed. As you know. As you commanded.”

  The anger rising through Chrysabelle’s body found a level spot and an eerie calm settled over her. A sense of imperviousness came with it. Perhaps that was from the ring of sorrows sewn into her back. “You already know she can’t dictate what I do. No one can. That should make you very afraid, because there is nothing keeping me from killing you.” She lifted her sacre a little higher. “Unless you’d like to give me a reason not to.”

  With a gulp, Nadira lifted her hands in surrender. “I-I can help.”

  “Can you?” Chrysabelle asked. “Because I have yet to see proof of that.”

  “I will not call upon the comarré to rise, but I can aid you in the fight against your enemies.”

  “You give me aid? Why should I believe you?”

  “I cannot speak lies. You know that.”

  “No, but too often you speak too little and use twisted words.” Chrysabelle tipped her sacre to flash light in Nadira’s eyes and stepped forward. Metal met flesh. “What help can you give me? Will it be enough to save your life?”

  Squinting, Nadira pulled back against her chair as far as she could to avoid the blade under her chin. “Sheath your weapon.”

  “No. What help?”

  Struggling to look down, Nadira began scrolling through the book still open on her desk. At last she settled on a page. The words were written in a language Chrysabelle couldn’t read, but at the center was a beautiful drawing of a tree unlike anything she’d ever seen. “You must lure your enemy to the Garden of Eden, then make her eat of the fruit of the Tree of Life.”

  “And I’m supposed to find the Garden of Eden how?”

  “Move your weapon. Please.”

  Chrysabelle pu
lled the blade back a few inches.

  Nadira stood, then opened a small drawer in the edge of the table. From it, she retrieved a short dagger.

  Chrysabelle whipped her sacre up against Nadira’s neck again. Rennata whimpered. Chrysabelle ignored her. “Put the blade down.”

  Nadira trembled, but held tight to the dagger. “I need it to cut this page from the book.”

  Chrysabelle eased her sword back. If Nadira was willing to damage one of her precious books this information might actually be worth something.

  She cut the page out, tossed the blade away, and handed the yellowed paper to Chrysabelle. “The signum along the edges will open a portal to the Garden’s gates the same way you’ve used the signum on your back to open a portal to me. The map will guide you to the tree once you’re there.”

  Chrysabelle nodded at the paper. “Roll it up and secure it.” Nadira did, then handed it back. The sudden realization of the task before her sank in. “I have to get Tatiana through a blood portal? How is that help?”

  Nadira pursed her lips. “You’ll figure it out. Steal something from her. She will follow.”

  Chrysabelle tucked the scroll into her jacket. “I thought humans were banned from entering the Garden. Are you sure I’ll be able to enter?”

  Nadira started to say something, then shook her head. “You will be able to enter. I give you my solemn vow.”

  Chrysabelle raised her sacre between them. “And if that vow proves worthless, I will pay you one final visit. Do I make myself clear?” Nadira nodded. Chrysabelle pointed the weapon at Rennata. “You do anything to tip Tatiana or Lilith to this plan and so help me, holy mother, I’ll strip the gold from your body the way you did mine. Every. Single. Signum.”

  Then she sheathed her weapon, spun on her heels, and left them to stare after her as she walked away.

  Tatiana sighed. Hades, Mal could be difficult. “What is wrong with you? Was the taste of the comarré that unpleasant?”

  Mal cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “It was fine.”

  Not very convincing, but perhaps he didn’t like drinking from a secondhand comarré. “Then stop swallowing.”

  Mal swallowed again, probably just to annoy her. “Can we get back to the subject at hand? I don’t believe she killed one of the ancients. It’s not possible.”

  Tatiana twisted her hands in her lap, the metal one reflecting light like a mirror. “I saw the skin around her shoulders with my own eyes. I swear to you, it was real. I’ve seen them often enough to know what their flesh looks like.” She forced herself to sit still. “I told you she was dangerous, but even I had no idea just how much. However…” She leaned forward and dropped her voice. “They told me what to do.”

  “They.” Mal raised a brow. “As in the ancients.”

  She nodded. “Proof of how worried they are about her, don’t you think?”

  For an instant, he looked skeptical. “Absolutely. What did they tell you?”

  “We must take her to the Garden of Eden and get her to eat from the Tree of Life.”

  He stared dumbstruck, then laughed. “And how do we get there? By unicorn? The Garden of Eden is a myth. They’re lying to you. Probably trying to see how much you’ll fall for.”

  “It’s not a myth.” She reached down between her body and the side of the chair and pulled out the scroll Samael had given her. Carefully, she spread it open, revealing the hand-drawn map with the ornately illustrated tree at its center. “They gave me this.”

  He studied it, nodding once or twice, then leaned in. “Let’s say this really is a map to the Garden and we go there. How do we get in? Isn’t it guarded?”

  Her nerves settled with the realization that despite his skepticism, he was with her in this. “The ancient one assured me we would be able to enter.”

  He sat back again, stretching one arm along the back of the sofa. “Then that’s the plan. Their word is good enough for me.”

  She rolled the scroll up and stuck it back down in the cushions. “Are you ready to meet her?”

  His body language stayed loose and relaxed. “Yes.”

  He’d better be. There was no turning back after this. She stood and lifted her hands. “Lilith, my darling girl, come to me.”

  Darkness clouded the room as if someone had dimmed the lights, and then that darkness converged into a human form. From that, a woman-child emerged, shedding the darkness like a butterfly leaving its cocoon. Or a parasite leaving its host. She tipped her head and looked at Tatiana. “Hello, Mother.”

  “My darling.” Tatiana fought to keep her smile in place against a new onslaught of nerves. This had to go well. “I’d like you to meet Malkolm Bourreau, the vampire I was telling you about.”

  Her attention shifted to Mal. He stood, but kept his distance. He nodded at her. “So you’re Lilith?”

  She walked toward him. “And you are one of the most fearsome vampires to walk the earth.”

  The whites of his eyes began to turn black. Tatiana recognized that as a sign of him loosening his hold on the beast inside him. He was showing Lilith who he was. Good. “I’ve heard that said about me.”

  Unfortunately, his show of power didn’t seem to affect her. Maybe she just didn’t realize what it meant. “That’s what Mother says.” Lilith looked over her shoulder. “Don’t you, Mother?”

  “Yes,” Tatiana answered. “He is the perfect vampire to join our family.”

  Lilith stuck out her bottom lip. “Why? What makes him better than any other vampire?”

  “I didn’t say he was better. I said he was perfect for our family.” Tatiana wanted to slap her, but refrained out of respect for her own life. “He was my human husband and the father of my mortal child. He knows how to be a father—”

  Mal put his hand up. “I’ll handle this.” He rolled his shirt sleeve back and held his black-inked forearm out. “See those names, Lilith? I am covered with them.” He pulled up his shirt, revealing a taut stomach covered with more black script.

  Lilith sighed like a bored teenager. “So.”

  Mal picked his shirt up a little higher, showing off more ink. “Each name represents one of my kills.”

  Tatiana watched as Lilith’s eyes widened and a tiny smile lifted the corner of her mouth. This child she’d once held in her arms was a bloodthirsty savage, something she might have approved of if that savagery wasn’t so capricious.

  Lilith reached for his skin. “So many…”

  He tucked his shirt back in before she could touch him. “That’s not all. I have the ability to transform myself into a beast owned by darkness. A beast that has taken on and destroyed hordes of Nothos.”

  Lilith clapped her hands. “Show me.”

  “No.”

  Her face fell. “Yes. Now. I want to see.”

  Mal leaned forward, eyes going dark with the beast. “I said no.” The harshness in Mal’s voice surprised Tatiana, but then she realized he spoke with the beast’s voice too. Her satisfaction level rose. She hadn’t expected him to understand so quickly just how firm a hand Lilith needed.

  Lilith flopped onto the couch to pout some more.

  Just then, someone called Tatiana’s name from another part of the house. The sound of it gave her chills. She turned toward it, suddenly trembling. “That voice,” she whispered. Her hand went to her throat. “Octavian.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Getting into Dominic’s office had taken some doing until Creek had run into Mortalis. A little explanation and the fae had escorted him through the crowd without stopping. He even seemed mildly amused when Luciano jumped out of his chair as Creek walked through the door.

  Creek held his hands up. “I’m not here to kill you. I just need to speak to Dominic.”

  Luciano sat back down and Dominic gestured toward the other chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”

  Mortalis stayed by the door. Creek took the seat. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  Dominic nodded. “You and I have ne
ver had problems.” He glanced at his nephew.

  Creek smiled. “No, and I’d like to keep it that way. Which is why I’m here.” He shifted a little, choosing his words. “I understand you had a death here recently.”

  “To be clear, a murder. Katsumi Tanaka. She was a good friend and a trusted employee.” Dominic’s mouth tightened. “What about this brings you here?”

  “You have my sympathies.” Creek wasn’t an idiot. She was more than a good friend to Dominic. She’d been his lover. He’d cared for her enough to give her navitas and raise her from fringe to noble. “I know who killed her.”

  Dominic’s face shifted from human to vampire. “I already know,” he growled. “Octavian. He used to be—”

  “Tatiana’s consort,” Creek finished. “How do you know this already?”

  “You think I am stupido? That I can’t find out who comes into my establishment? What they do here? Where they go? I know everything that happens here. Everything.”

  “I’d expect nothing less,” Creek said. Damn it. This was going downhill fast.

  Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “The question is, how do you know it was Octavian?”

  “Because I got him to confess.”

  “You have him? Where is he?”

  Luciano jumped to his feet. “I’ll bring him back. Just tell me where he is.”

  Creek popped his jaw to one side. “That’s the problem. I had him tied up, but the sedation wore off and he scattered and escaped so now I’m looking for him too. If we work together, we have a better chance of finding him.”

  “Agreed.” Dominic’s face went back to human. “I never thought I’d see the day that a noble vampire and a Kubai Mata would join forces, but I never thought I’d end up anathema, either.” He smiled, but the expression held sadness. “I understand you spared my nephew’s life as well. For that, I am grateful.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Creek said.

  “Si?”

  “I’m under orders to bring him in alive.”