Last Blood hoc-5

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Last Blood hoc-5 Page 24

by Kristen Painter


  “How did you cover for him?” Chrysabelle asked.

  “At the ball, after you two ran out of the suite—that was you two in disguise, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Mal said. Figuring that out didn’t take help from the KM. “Go on.”

  “When Tatiana went after you, Octavian left through the servants’ quarters. I scattered ashes on the floor where he’d been and, when Tatiana returned, told her that he’d taken his own life out of fear of her.” She drew in a ragged breath. “She would have killed him. It was the only way to get him out safely.”

  “What about the other female servant?” Chrysabelle asked.

  “Oana? She was Lilith’s wet nurse. With Lilith out of the picture, Oana was no longer necessary. I paid her to go away.” Kosmina glanced at Malkolm. “And she knows I’d kill her myself if she ever spoke a word of what happened.”

  Mal eased his grip on the double agent. She was telling them more than she had to. Enough that her story sounded genuine. “Why would Octavian come back here? He’d have to know Tatiana would kill him for what he’d done.”

  Kosmina pulled out of his grasp entirely and tugged her uniform back into place. “Not long after he brought me in to replace him as head of staff, I started to see signs that his loyalties were drifting. He truly loved Tatiana. And the life she provided.” She shook her head. “It’s not the first time an agent has shifted sides.”

  “More than once?” Chrysabelle asked. “How long have you been KM?”

  Kosmina cast her eyes toward the door to the cellar. “All my life. My whole family is.”

  “Son of a priest.” Mal’s brows shot up. How deep was the KM in Corvinestri? “And do they all work for nobles?”

  She nodded and lifted her gaze toward Chrysabelle. “We do the job the comarré were meant for, but have fallen away from.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Chrysabelle said. “I tried to raise a force to help us and got shot down. Also, I’m not comarré anymore.”

  “I know,” Kosmina said. “We’re aware you were disavowed.” She started toward the exit. “I have to go. I have things to do before… I have things to do.”

  Mal stepped into her path. He wasn’t done asking questions. “Why did you follow me down here?”

  Kosmina’s expression shifted into one that was pure soldier. “To determine why you were suddenly on Tatiana’s side, and if necessary, kill you. Which reminds me…” She pulled a snuffbox out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Put a pinch of that under your tongue.”

  “You? Kill me?” Mal laughed softly as he took the box and opened it. Fine white powder filled the small metal square. A citrusy aroma wafted up from it. “What is this?”

  “The antidote to the solis basium currently coursing through your system.”

  The voices stilled completely. They were trying to figure out if what she said was true. “What the hell is solis basium?”

  Chrysabelle licked her bottom lip. “Means something like ‘sun kiss’ in Latin, doesn’t it?”

  Kosmina nodded. “And without that antidote, you’d find yourself inexplicably drawn to walk outside and greet the dawn tomorrow morning.”

  Mal snorted skeptically. “There’s nothing in my blood. I’d know if you drugged me.” Sick sick sick, the voices whined. They believed her.

  “Would you?” Kosmina asked. “Because you drank the comarré’s blood without question.”

  Chrysabelle looked at him. “What comarré?”

  “The one Tatiana provided for Octavian,” Kosmina answered. “Tatiana offered her to Malkolm so he wouldn’t go hungry.”

  “I didn’t drink from her,” Mal said. “You know I can’t do that. But I did let her fill a goblet for me.” He could tell this was bothering Chrysabelle. “I had no choice. I didn’t want Tatiana to get suspicious.”

  She nodded, but said nothing.

  He looked back at Kosmina. “You’re telling me her blood held the drug?”

  “Like I said, put a pinch under your tongue and you’ll be fine.” Kosmina gave him a final glance before heading toward the door.

  “Wait,” Chrysabelle called. “What about… what you heard?”

  Kosmina stopped and met her gaze. “The plan to get Tatiana and the other one to the Garden of Eden? I’ll help in whatever way I can without blowing my cover, but my time here is short. You don’t have to worry about me getting in your way.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Chrysabelle said.

  Kosmina shrugged. “That’s all I heard. Now I really must go.” She left, closing the door behind her.

  Chrysabelle’s hands shook. “She knows about the baby. She’s going to report to whomever she reports to and the KM are going to come knocking again, expecting something from me.” Her hands went to her belly. “If they think they can use this child for their purposes, they are sorely mistaken.”

  Mal nodded. “That’s for damn sure.” He tipped his head to touch hers. “No one is going to lay a hand on you or this child, understand? I won’t let it happen.”

  She blew out a breath. “I know.” She smiled up at him. “I’m okay. Hormones, you know?” She laughed softly. “You should be used to my crazy by now.”

  “Speaking of crazy, can you believe she drugged me?” He slipped his hand into Chrysabelle’s, glad the mood had lightened, but feeling like he owed her a little more explanation. “I know you’re not happy that I drank blood from another comarré, but I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “You’d better take that antidote.” Her mouth thinned, but she squeezed his arm. “And you’re right. I’m not happy about the other comarré, but I also understand. You did what you had to do.” She offered him a wisp of a smile. “It’s all for the end game, right?”

  “Right.” The end game that would finally free them to live a peaceful life raising their child.

  Her gaze shifted back to the exit. “When we get back to Paradise City, we need to have a long talk with Creek and come to some kind of understanding.”

  Mal stuck a pinch of the white powder under his tongue. It tasted like sugar, not much like an antidote to anything. “The only understanding that matters is that they leave us alone. If someone has to die to make that happen, so be it.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  The knocking on Creek’s door fired up his internal alarm system. He wasn’t expecting anyone, Annika included. And with Octavian in the wind, there was no such thing as being too cautious. He snapped his crossbow into place, locked a bolt into it, and slid the door back half an inch. “Who is it?”

  “Doc. Chrysabelle’s friend. The varcolai.”

  Creek opened the door farther as he dropped the crossbow. “How do you know where I live?”

  Doc gave him an odd look as he came in. “You know I’m the leader of the Paradise City pride now, right?”

  “Yeah, I’d heard that.” Creek slid the door shut, then led Doc to the kitchen. “I take it you’re telling me you have access to the kind of people who can find people like me?”

  “Actually, all I had to do was ask Chief Vernadetto.” Doc looked around the machine shop. “Interesting place to live.”

  Creek removed the bolt from his crossbow, stored it, then collapsed the bow again so that it resembled a length of titanium pipe. Notching it back onto his holster, he leaned against the counter. “What can I do for you?”

  Doc stopped checking out the makeshift apartment to look at Creek. “I need help finding someone and I thought you might have the resources. Mine don’t extend much beyond the city. I can call on other prides, but they tend to be territorial and keeping tabs on another pride’s business is frowned upon, you dig? Plus, I don’t really want to tip my hand that I’m looking for this cat.”

  Creek nodded. “Sure. Who is this person?”

  “Name’s Fritz Haber. He was one of Sinjin’s council members, but quit when I took over.”

  “Didn’t like the new regime, huh?”

  “Didn’t even give it a chance. Anyw
ay, he may be connected to the death of Heaven, Sinjin’s wife.”

  None of that made sense. Creek shook his head. “I thought Heaven was your wife. And didn’t Fi kill her? In that challenge battle?”

  Doc pointed to one of the battered club chairs. “You mind?”

  “No, go ahead. You want something to drink?” Creek was about to go out looking for Octavian again, but this was getting interesting.

  “No, I’m cool, thanks.” Doc sat. “Fi won that fight, but as it turns out, Heaven died because someone laced silver dust into the arena’s sand. It got into Heaven’s system and…” He exhaled. “She couldn’t take it. Heart shut down. Silver does some pretty nasty stuff to varcolai.”

  “I guess that’s thrown a wrench into the works.” Creek kicked his feet up onto the cable spool coffee table. “If it was silver, I guess you know it wasn’t a vampire or another shifter.”

  “I wish that was true. Two of my council members, Barasa and Omur, are currently being held by police because the messenger who delivered the silver dust will only say he delivered it to a council member, but says he can’t remember which one. He’s human and says we all look alike to him.”

  “Idiot.” Creek rolled his eyes. “Where’s this Fritz fit in?”

  “Cops found a box with traces of silver dust in his apartment.”

  Creek nodded. “Then he’s the council member who ordered the stuff.”

  Doc leaned back. “I don’t know. Fritz was Sinjin’s right-hand man. If he was going to do anything to fix that fight, he would have worked out a way to make Heaven the victor.”

  Creek tapped his fingers on the chair’s arm. “You think that box was planted?”

  Doc stared at his hands, nodding slowly. “Could be.” Suddenly he sat forward. “You know, I went to see Fritz, thought maybe I could talk to him shifter to shifter, ask him if he knew anyone who might have wanted to hurt Heaven. When I got to his place, he acted all freaked out, like he didn’t want to let me in for reasons beyond just who I was—and pride law dictates that if the pride leader requests your presence, you had best present yourself, so not speaking to me would have been a dumb move.”

  “Dumber than quitting the council?”

  “Quitting the council only removed him from his standing in the pride. Not speaking to me would have been considered a personal offense. I could have him removed from the pride altogether for that.”

  Creek nodded. “Got it.”

  Doc spread his hands. “I’m standing at his door, right, trying to get him to let me in and I hear glass breaking. Fritz is already twitchy, so now I’m thinking someone’s in there, threatening him or who knows what. I bust through the door in time to catch somebody going down the fire escape. I chase the guy, but don’t catch him because on my way out, I tell Fritz to call the cops.” Doc rolled his eyes. “They show up and guess who gets tapped?”

  “Damn,” Creek said. “Not your night.”

  Doc sat back. “Dude vanishes. Me? I’m wearing bracelets and get to spend the night downtown. You know they can hold you for twenty-four hours without charging you?”

  Creek shot him a look. “Yeah, I’m intimately acquainted with the penal system.”

  “I guess you are.” Doc shook his head. “I almost had that guy too. Got a swipe in, but couldn’t hang on to him.”

  “A swipe?”

  Doc held his hand up and shifted to his half-form, popping inch-and-a-half claws out of his fingertips.

  “Double damn.” Suddenly it was Creek’s turn to sit up. “Are you saying you sliced the guy?”

  “Yes. Across the back.”

  “The field of suspects just got narrower.”

  Doc sighed. “Not really. Varcolai heal too fast for there to still be a mark on him so any chance of identifying him that way is long gone by now.”

  Creek shook his head as he reached for his phone. “I saw this guy. I was out on patrol, heard the report over the police scanner, and headed toward the action. I ran across a wounded varcolai lying in an alley. Leopard, I think. Whatever is big and spotted.” He raised one shoulder. “Sorry, I don’t know the breeds well enough to say. Anyway, this cat had four slices across its back. I left it alone, but hung out across the street because I thought the blood scent might draw some fringe, which it did, but the few vamps that sniffed around didn’t stay long.”

  He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “A couple hours later, a guy walks out of the alley. I took a few pictures because you just never know.” He pulled up one and held it out for Doc to see.

  Doc’s mouth opened and his eyes glimmered green-gold. He cursed softly under his breath.

  Creek set the phone on the table. “I take it you know this guy?”

  “Hell yes.” Doc picked up the phone, still staring at the photo. “That lying piece of Brazilian trash. That’s Heaven’s brother, Remo.”

  After saying good-bye to Chrysabelle, Mal had one mission left. Delay Tatiana’s plans until Chrysabelle had enough time to get to the Garden of Eden ahead of them. Fortunately, Tatiana was so focused on what had happened with Octavian, the plan to get Lilith to the Garden had been put aside for the moment.

  “How could he,” she snarled, stomping across the sitting room like the madwoman she was. “He was dead. I saw the ashes. Kosmina told me he killed himself because he knew he’d end up dying at my hands for his betrayal. Then he comes back here? Not dead and thinking I’d somehow forgive him for—” She stopped and stared at Mal, but her gaze was wild and unfixed. “Kosmina,” she whispered. “How did she see him kill himself when he wasn’t really dead?”

  Kosmina’s words about her time here being short suddenly made sense. She’d probably slipped away, knowing her story about Octavian would be revealed as a lie now that he’d shown up. “Must have been some kind of black magic.”

  If Tatiana even heard him, she didn’t show it. She yanked open the doors to the sitting room and charged out into the hall. “Kosmina,” she bellowed. “Now!” Then she stomped back in and returned to muttering.

  Shockingly, Kosmina appeared a few moments later. “Yes, my lady?” She didn’t look at Mal once.

  “Octavian was here.” Tatiana’s eyes were white-hot silver.

  She nodded, head down, hands clasped. Ever the dutiful servant in appearance. “Yes, my lady. I saw him.”

  “Just like you saw him kill himself?”

  Kosmina blinked once, but didn’t falter. “Yes, my lady. Surely he tricked me with magic. I am very sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Tatiana trembled with visible rage.

  Mal sighed like the whole thing bored him, but the voices were on the verge of chaos. It was like they could smell the potential for bloodshed. “Can we get back to business?” They still hadn’t discussed how they were going to persuade Lilith to go with them to the Garden. “Yes, it’s shocking that Octavian showed up, but who cares about what this kine saw or didn’t see?”

  She looked at him. “Don’t you get it? This kine was in league with him.” She pointed at Kosmina with her metal hand, the fingers melding until they stretched forward into a short blade. “She must have known he was working against me.” New pain flared in her eyes. “Which means he was really working for you.”

  With new determination, she stalked toward Mal. “Was he? Was Octavian working with you and the comarré whore to steal Lilith? Tell me. There can be no secrets between us if our plans are going to work.”

  The word “whore” caused Mal’s anger to tick upward. The voices cheered. The urge to take Tatiana by the throat and shake her until her neck snapped itched along his nerves. How did Kosmina stand it? “No, he wasn’t working for me. And I doubt very much this servant could have helped him in any way. You’re wasting time. We have a task.”

  “That task can wait.” She whipped around and jabbed her sword hand under Kosmina’s chin. “Tell me what you know or so help me, I will slice you from ear to ear.”

  Kosmina lifted her head slightly as her eyes went strange
ly blank. “I know nothing.”

  Tatiana’s blade pressed into Kosmina’s skin until a drop of blood rolled down the shining metal surface. “You lie.”

  Kosmina went up on her toes, struggling to rise above the cutting edge. “No, my lady, I know nothing.”

  Mal stood. “You’re wasting my time on these foolish games, Tatiana. An old lover returns and your focus is gone. I’ve had enough.” He took a few steps toward the door, hoping to pull her focus off Kosmina. Even if the KM agent had been prepared to kill him, he didn’t want her blood on his hands. “You said you wanted my help, but I’m here and you’ve done nothing to make use of me. Instead, you’re distracted. I’m tired of waiting on you. If you want to do this on your own, so be it.”

  Tatiana paused, her sword hand lowering an inch or two. “Mal, wait. Don’t you see? Her disloyalty must be punished.”

  “Being tricked by Octavian does not make her disloyal. It merely makes her gullible. She’s kine. If you expect more, you’re a fool.”

  Some of the rage left Tatiana’s eyes. She dropped the sword from Kosmina’s throat and it became a hand again. “I suppose I do expect too much.” She took a step toward him. “And we have so much work ahead of us.”

  He nodded. “We should focus on that.”

  “We should,” Tatiana agreed. “This isn’t something I need to deal with. I’ll give her over to some of my household guards, have them see what they can get out of her while we’re gone.”

  Behind her, Kosmina’s face took on the same soldierlike expression he’d seen in the wine cellar. Her hand went from the pocket of her uniform to her mouth, and then her jaw popped as she bit down. “Go to hell, vampire.”

  Tatiana spun around as Kosmina began to convulse. Foam bubbled from her lips and she fell to the ground. After a few seconds of twitching, she lay still.

  Tatiana kneeled and felt her throat. “She’s dead. Bloody kine traitor.”

 

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