Last Blood hoc-5

by Kristen Painter

  He calmed, but stayed wary. “You haven’t?”

  She pulled the large envelope out from under the sofa and placed it on his lap. “It’s still sealed.”

  Vernadetto clutched it, but kept it on his lap. He stared at the single V written in pencil on the front. Seconds ticked by in silence.

  Doc cleared his throat. “Based on what Fi told me, I’m sure you’re a remnant. You know what that is, right?”

  He nodded, still mute.

  Doc tipped his chin at the envelope. “After you digest what’s in there, Fi and I would like to talk to you again. Make you an offer.”

  Vernadetto said nothing.

  Fi bit her lip. “Are you mad because I told Doc about you? Please don’t be, Pete. With all this going on, I couldn’t not tell him. And I swear, we just want to help you.”

  Vernadetto inhaled a deep shuddering sigh. “I’m not mad at you and I don’t need to open this.” He raised his head and looked Doc squarely in the face. “I already know what I am.”

  Creek turned the engine off before he hit the turn that would take him to his grandmother’s house. He coasted, then hopped off and walked the bike in. She’d be asleep by now, his mother probably an hour or two from getting home after her shift at the hospital, but the sooner he did this, the sooner he could be free. Or as free as a man could be who’d just sold his soul to a new devil.

  Unless leaving the KM wasn’t the right thing to do after all.

  A soft light shone from the back of the house and he smiled as he parked his bike. The earthy tang of cigarette smoke told him Mawmaw was up and waiting. Once again, she’d known he was coming. Tucking his helmet over the handlebars, he ran a hand over his Mohawk and said a prayer that she’d know what to do. She always did. She was his rock when everything else was quicksand.

  She deserved a grandson who was around more, able to help her when she needed it, not one who was off doing the bidding of a shadowy organization hell bent on… whatever they were hell bent on. The KM and their damn money. At least they made it possible for him to provide for his family that way. How would he replace that money if he left? That was the thing that weighed heaviest. He could handle prison again if he really had to, but leaving his family broke was unacceptable, especially when their financial situation had been caused by his legal troubles to begin with.

  He skirted the house and went around back. Mawmaw sat in her rocker, the faint light from the cherry of her cigarette brightening her face more than the gas lantern sitting on the railing. Pip curled at her feet. The dog lifted his head enough to sigh, then went back to sleep. Creek nodded at her. “How are you, Mawmaw?”

  “Good.” She exhaled, the smoke pale in the lantern’s light. “You should sit. You have a lot on your mind.”

  He took the rocker next to hers, his body as comfortable on the worn wood as in a feather bed. “I have a decision to make. One that will color my future.”

  She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out in a thin stream. “Go on.”

  “The organization that freed me—”

  “The ones who make you hunt the blood eaters.”

  “Yes, them. They also make me do other things. Things I’m not happy about. Things that have hurt people I call friends.” An owl hooted. He stared out at the swamp.

  “But?” she said, waiting.

  “But they’re also the ones who made Una’s scholarship happen. The mortgage payment the bank gets for this house every month? That’s not from me. It’s from them. The raise mom got after I joined them…” He shook his head. “They own me.”

  She turned to look at him, anger in her eyes. “No one owns you, Thomas. You’re a child of this land. Remember that.”

  He nodded. “I know, Mawmaw, but telling them I’m a child of this land isn’t going to mean squat. They expect my service. It’s the price I agreed to.”

  She looked away from him and crossed one arm over her body to prop up her other elbow. “What are you here for if you have all the answers?”

  “Because I don’t have all the answers. Especially now. What I do have is an opportunity to get free.”

  She raised her brows like she knew there was more to it. Because she did know. She always knew.

  Damn it. “Free of them, anyway. It would mean aligning myself with another who could be just as bad.”

  She ground out her cigarette in an old coffee cup filled with sand. “You battle two wolves. One known, one unknown, but both are wolves.”

  “How do I know which one is the most dangerous?”

  “If you refuse to attack, which one will attack you first?”

  He sat silently for a moment. There was no way the KM would let him ignore their directives. Dominic on the other hand would probably rather keep some kind of working relationship between them. “The wolf I know.”

  She nodded slowly. “Then that is the one you must kill.”

  “What about the money?”

  Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “There is always a way. Now go, kill the wolf before it kills you.”

  “Okay.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

  She slipped her hand out from under his, reached into the pocket of her house dress, and pulled something out. “Here,” she said, holding her closed fist over his hand.

  He turned his palm up.

  She dropped three waxy, dime-sized disks into his hand. “You’re going to need those.”

  He pinched one between his fingers. They were hard and rough. “I almost forgot to ask about them.”

  She pulled out another cigarette and lit it up, making him wait. After an inhale, she released a few smoke rings. “They’re what you came here for. Basilisk scales.”

  He squeezed them tight in his hand. “I love you.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chrysabelle held tight to Lilith’s hand. Panic tingled down to the tips of her fingers. Tatiana was almost herself again. “What are we going to do? How many times do we have to kill her?”

  Mal glanced back the way they’d come. “Maybe we should just run for it.”

  “And have her follow us?” She shook her hand. “No way. This ends here. It has to.” She nodded toward the tree. “The angel guarding the gate said nothing can be removed from the Garden. She’s got one in her pocket. Maybe if she tries to leave with it, he’ll kill her.”

  Mal nodded. “It’s worth a shot. As soon as she’s herself again, we’ll run and let her chase us. I’ll take Lilith.” He scooped her into his arms.

  Chrysabelle nodded. “Good.” Tatiana would probably use the child for blood if they left her. She shuddered at the thought.

  Lilith patted Mal on the head, but it didn’t faze him. “Anything’s better than Tatiana having her, although I don’t know if the mayor will still be interested in Lilith now that she’s human again.”

  A ragged breath left Chrysabelle’s lungs. Completely real again, Tatiana walked toward them. “Here she comes.”

  Mal turned, putting himself between Tatiana and Chrysabelle. “Stop right where you are.”

  “Why should I listen to a thing that comes out of your lying mouth?” Tatiana kept walking. She thrust her hand forward like she was going to make a sword out of it, but it was flesh now. Healed by the tree, maybe. She frowned and shook her fingers, but they stayed fingers.

  “Because I have a deal for you.” Mal held his ground. “And you’re apparently out of weaponry.”

  A deal? Chrysabelle wished she knew what Mal had planned, but she trusted him.

  “That’s rich. You have a deal for me.” Tatiana stopped and put her hands on her hips. “And for your information, I’m happy to have my real hand back.”

  Mal ignored her comments. “Let us take the child and Chrysabelle won’t stop you from taking fruit from the tree back to Corvinestri with you.”

  Tatiana bent in laughter. “Oh, that is good. The comarré’s going to stop me? She couldn’t eve
n kill me.”

  “No, but she does have weaponry and she could spend the rest of eternity lopping your head off. That’s got to hurt, and who knows, that apple you ate might run out at some point.” He hefted Lilith a little higher onto his hip. “What do you say?”

  “I say you’re a liar and not to be trusted.”

  “The life of a child is at stake, Shaya.” At the use of her human name, the snarl left her face and a flicker of sadness filled her eyes. Mal nodded. “You know me well enough to understand that, in this, I speak the truth.”

  She swallowed. “I still want the comarré dead.”

  Chrysabelle exhaled hard. “The feeling is mutual, you—”

  “Understood,” Mal interrupted. “But that’s for another time and place.”

  Fi shook her head. “But you said you didn’t know what you were.”

  “I know,” Pete said quietly. “I didn’t want to lie to you. You really do remind me of my niece and you’re such a sweet kid. Plus, you had enough to deal with. You didn’t need to know the city was being protected by a freak.”

  “You’re not a freak,” Fi said. Not that she knew what he was, but honestly, what could be considered freaky these days? “Doc changes into a leopard, I’m a ghost, the city’s lousy with vampires and fae and other varcolai. I can’t imagine what you could be that makes you think you’re stranger than any of that.”

  He sighed again and looked at Doc. “You’re lucky to have this one, you know.”

  Doc nodded. “I know. That’s why I married her.” He smiled at Fi.

  She winked back, not really wanting to change the subject. “Pete, this whole building is filled with full-blooded, feline varcolai. A remnant isn’t going to scare anyone.”

  Pete laughed. “Like I said, sweet kid.” He bounced the envelope on his knees as if weighing the contents. “I’m not a remnant. I’m full-blooded.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a gold chain. A well-worn, highly polished gold disc hung from the end. At the circle’s edge was an inscription too small for Fi to read. “This keeps me from changing. I’ve worn it since I was fourteen.” He swallowed. “Since the first and last time I changed.”

  Doc caught Fi’s gaze. His eyes were full of questions. She gave him a small nod, then returned to Pete. “It’s beautiful. It looks very old.”

  He dropped it, not bothering to hide it beneath his shirt again. “It is. Passed down to me from my grandfather, the last of us to manifest the change before me.”

  She leaned in. “Pete, what are you?”

  He moved like he might get up. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Doc snorted. “You realize whom you’re talking to, right? This is your chance to get this off your chest, bro. You’re among friends. I swear it on the life of this pride.”

  Pete seemed to consider Doc’s words. He nodded. “Okay. It would be nice not to keep this secret any longer. Maybe you could even help me.” He shrugged. “Not that there’s much use for someone like me.”

  He leaned over and stuck his hand under the table lamp. “What do you see beneath my hand?”

  Fi looked closely. “Nothing.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “I cast no shadow.” He inhaled and lifted his chin, his gaze flitting between them. “I’m a doppelganger.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  Once Tatiana had agreed to Mal’s proposed deal, he’d put Lilith down and told her to hold Chrysabelle’s hand. Now the little girl walked with her as she led the way back to the gates of the Garden. Mal followed behind, acting as a buffer between them and Tatiana in case she changed her mind about their strange truce. If she was able to leave with the fruit, their only other hope was that she’d be killable, permanently, once they got her outside the Garden. She glanced back, meeting Mal’s eyes, trying to let him know with a look that she understood his plan.

  He gave her a quick nod in return.

  Lilith tugged on Chrysabelle’s hand. “Birdy!” She pointed as a scarlet macaw sailed overhead.

  Chrysabelle smiled and nodded. “That’s right.” The little girl’s small hand clutched hers tighter and her own child kicked in her belly. Soon, the hand she was holding would belong to her own flesh and blood. The child that she and Mal had created. She looked back again, this time at Tatiana. Chrysabelle could not allow that evil to harm her family. Tatiana could not return to Corvinestri and her power-hungry, blood-spilling ambitions.

  At some point, she would find out about the baby Chrysabelle was carrying and that information would shift Tatiana’s full attention onto her. Just as Tatiana had stolen Lilith, she would throw her weight into stealing Chrysabelle’s child.

  It would not happen. It could not. Lilith had been put through hell, stripped of her childhood to be used as a pawn and turned into a monster. Chrysabelle studied the child at her side. She seemed so innocent now, as if the fruit had somehow cleaned the evil from her soul, but looks could be deceiving. What if darkness still lingered in her heart? Would it manifest someday? Would this child become a threat to Chrysabelle’s own?

  She knew Mal wanted to take Lilith back to the mayor so she could be raised by family, but that might not be the right decision. Chrysabelle didn’t want to turn her over only to have to kill her someday when her true nature resurfaced.

  The gates loomed ahead and, as they approached, began to open. The moon still gleamed from the same place in the sky as when night had first fallen while she was hiding in the tree. Had it moved at all? Did it move? Who knew how this place worked?

  A new glow beckoned from the open gate. Eae maybe? She squinted, trying to see through the halo of light, but then a second figure appeared, one that was easily recognizable as Eae.

  She slowed and Mal came up beside her. He spoke softly. “Is that a second guard?”

  “Maybe.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Go cautiously.”

  She nodded and started forward again. With each step, the face of the second guard became more readable. She inhaled as recognition hit her and the scene of her mother’s death flashed before her eyes. “Michael.” The name came out on a breath and as she averted her eyes, a sudden wave of inadequacy struck her. The glory that surrounded the archangel pressed on her, showing her in a flash of memories how she’d fallen short in her duties as a comarré since she’d last seen him at the breaking of the covenant.

  She fell to her knees as he approached, overwhelmed by such deep emotion that standing seemed impossible.

  “Get up, child,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I can.” Not yet. Not while this inexplicable guilt pushed her to the verge of tears. Once again, her pregnancy emotions were besting her. Her pregnancy. Holy mother, what would he think of that? As if he didn’t already know.

  He crouched down before her. “Look at me, Chrysabelle.”

  Reluctantly, she raised her head. The suffusion of light faded enough for her to see him clearly. His face still glowed, but this time, with kindness.

  He smiled. “Everything you’re feeling belongs to you and you alone. I am proud of what you’ve accomplished. Nadira should have offered you help when you went to her.”

  “S-she did. In a way.” Why Chrysabelle felt the need to protect the Aurelian, she had no idea.

  Michael shook his head. “Not enough help. Not the right help. You were correct. The time for the comarré to rise up had come.”

  “Then why didn’t Nadira do more?”

  He stood. “She is a stubborn woman, too old to bend with pressure, too full of her own importance. But she—and Rennata—are mine to deal with now. Nadira I can only chastise, but Rennata I can, and will, replace. Something I should have done years ago.” He shook his head ominously. “But know that by your actions, you have averted the crisis.” He held his hand out to her.

  She took it and let him help her to her feet. His skin was like water, cool and soothing. “How can that be?” She glanced back at Tatiana. Both she and Mal hung a f
ew feet away. “My enemy still seeks me.”

  Tatiana scowled, but Michael laughed. “Your enemy is contained.”

  Tatiana laughed right back. “You don’t scare me.”

  His countenance radiated authority. “Don’t I? Then you’re ignorant. But I’m not here to scare you, demon.”

  She sniffed. “Then what are you here for?”

  Michael glanced at Chrysabelle before answering Tatiana. “You have two choices, demon. Remain within these gates for your eternity or walk through them and die.”

  She laughed. “You think you can kill me? That doesn’t work anymore, but nice try.” She started forward, pushing past Chrysabelle and Lilith.

  Michael turned as Tatiana approached the gates. “Walk through those gates and you’ll kill yourself.”

  Tatiana stopped. “What does that mean?”

  “You ate of the Tree of Life.”

  Her hand slid into the pocket of her gown, no doubt to clutch the forbidden fruit squirreled away there. “Which is why I come back to life now. I get it.”

  He smiled in the way of people who know far more than those they’re speaking to. “Your new immortality only works within these gates. Your human side died centuries ago when you were sired. Eating the fruit of the Tree of Life killed your vampire side, except on these grounds where there is no death.” He nodded past her. “Out there, beyond the Garden’s boundaries, you will last no longer than the time it takes for your foot to touch the ground.”

  She lifted her chin defiantly. “I don’t believe you.”

  He held out his hand and one of the Tree’s apples appeared in his palm. He pulled back and tossed it through the gates. The moment it crossed the threshold, it exploded into dust.

  Tatiana’s mouth opened and she glared at Mal, then Chrysabelle. “You knew this. You knew this and you tricked me.” She flew toward Chrysabelle, but Michael stepped into her path.

  “Neither of them knew.” Michael bent his head. “Will you stay? Or will you leave?”

  Tatiana backed away from the gates, circling outside of Michael’s reach. Her eyes shone silver and she growled, baring her teeth. She pointed at Lilith. “If I have to stay, so does Lilith. She ate the fruit also.”