Last Blood hoc-5

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Last Blood hoc-5 Page 31

by Kristen Painter


  Chrysabelle grabbed the little girl and pulled her close. “No, please, Michael, don’t make her stay. She’s only a baby and Tatiana will—”

  He held up his hand. “The child may leave.”

  Tatiana screamed in frustration. “No! She ate the fruit, too.”

  Michael nodded. “The child was born human and vampire. When she ate the fruit, her vampire side was killed just as yours was, but her human side remains. All that my fallen brothers did to her has been erased.” He walked toward the gate. “You are free to leave, demon.”

  Tatiana sputtered, but Chrysabelle didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. With Lilith’s hand firmly in hers, she grabbed Mal’s hand with her other and pulled both of them after Michael.

  Tatiana followed, cursing, but stopped the moment they stepped over the gate’s golden threshold. Slowly, the doors began to close.

  Chrysabelle turned, putting Lilith behind her, and stared into Tatiana’s angry metallic eyes until the gap disappeared and the entrance was sealed. A scream went up that shook the gates, echoing into the stillness of the desert night.

  Chrysabelle leaned into Mal, exhaling the breath she’d been holding. “It’s over. She’s never getting out of there.”

  Mal put his arm around her. “Not alive.”

  She twisted to face the archangel. “Is that right? Are there any loopholes? Any possible way she might escape the Garden?”

  “No.” He held a hand out toward Eae, who was now making Lilith laugh by hiding his face behind his wing. “Even if she did, she wouldn’t make it past the guardian.”

  Relief unlike anything Chrysabelle had felt before overwhelmed her. She swallowed, trying to find her voice. “Thank you.”

  “You did it, my child.” He smiled gently. “You’ve always been the light of your kind.”

  She wiped at her eyes. “But not anymore.” She put a hand over her belly, feeling the swell that her leathers hid. “You must know what I’ve done.”

  “What we’ve done,” Mal corrected her. He stuck out his chest as if defying Michael to call his unborn child a mistake.

  Michael glanced at Mal, then back at her. “I do know. The child you carry will be the best of both of you and the greatest protector of the human race.” His smiled faded. “But this child and your union with the vampire are also what separate me from you.”

  Chrysabelle shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “The vampire’s blood courses through your veins. His child grows in your belly. You have become one with him.” Michael smiled wistfully. “You must understand my position does not allow me much truck with vampires.”

  “Or any, I’d guess.”

  He nodded and came close enough to cup her face in his hands. For a long moment, he just gazed at her. “My beautiful warrior child,” he whispered. Sadness dimmed the light in his eyes. “I also came because I wanted to say good-bye to you. My daughter.”

  Creek tossed the basilisk scales onto Dominic’s desk. “How soon before it’s ready?”

  Dominic picked up the scales and smiled. “Well done.”

  “How soon?” He wasn’t that anxious to fight Annika, but putting it off was only going to make him feel worse.

  “No more than a day.” Dominic tucked the scales into his vest pocket and nodded toward a chair. “Sit, please.”

  “I didn’t plan on staying that long.”

  Dominic shrugged and took a sip from an ornate goblet on his desk. A nauseating mix of blood and wine by the smell of it. “And your answer?”

  Creek took a few breaths. And sat. “My grandmother is a healer. A very powerful woman in our tribe. She’s fairly well known in Seminole circles.”

  Dominic nodded. “Rosa Mae Jumper’s power and reputation extends beyond your tribe, I can assure you.”

  It shouldn’t surprise Creek that Dominic knew about his grandmother and yet, it did. The woman was a constant revelation. “She’s the one who gave me the scales. And the reason I’m willing to work for you.”

  “Bene, bene.” Dominic stood and extended his hand. “I am not such a monster as you think I am. You will see.”

  Creek hoped that was the truth. He shook the vampire’s hand, inwardly cringing at the man’s cold touch. At least Dominic knew Creek hadn’t made the decision to work for him alone. And if Dominic really knew Mawmaw, he’d think twice about the kind of work he gave Creek to do. “When should I be back?”

  “I’ll bring it to you.” Dominic arched a brow. “I’d like to keep an eye on my investment.”

  And so it began. “You know where I live? Little Havana. The old machine shop near—”

  “Sixteenth Avenue. I know the place.” He gave Creek a curious look. “I’ll be quick.” He checked his watch. “No more than three hours from now. Will you be ready?”

  Creek nodded, but even that felt like a lie. “See you then.”

  As soon as he got outside, he sat on his bike and took out his phone to text Annika. My place in three hours.

  He tucked the phone into his pocket and pulled on his helmet, revving the bike’s engine as he glanced over his shoulder for traffic. His pocket vibrated before he could take off. He dragged the phone out again and checked the screen.

  Annika had already texted him back: Done.

  When he arrived home, he knew why her answer had come so quickly. She was already there, perched on the steps leading up to the sleeping loft. “Have you made your decision then? I assume that’s what you called me here for.”

  He nodded. “I have.” He took a breath. “I choose to fight.” The exhale came easier. “I have no desire to fight you. None. But I want my freedom more.” He shook his head. “I can’t do this job anymore. I can’t.”

  She nodded. “I know. You’re a good man, Creek. The Kubai Mata wouldn’t have selected you if you weren’t.” For an instant, the corners of her mouth turned up in a miserable smile, and then the expression vanished. “When do you want to do this?”

  He turned enough so that he didn’t have to look at her. He felt like he was betraying a friend. “Tonight.”

  “You’ll need a second.”

  “A second?”

  “Someone to stand with you.”

  Dominic would be here, but he didn’t want to be indebted to him any more than he already would be and there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to witness what was about to happen. “I’m fine alone.”

  She shook her head slowly. “You have to have one.”

  “Why? Is it part of the rules?”

  “No,” she said, the tone of her voice almost painful. “It’s so someone can take care of your body.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chrysabelle knew her mouth hung open, but didn’t care. “You’re my father?”

  “Yes,” Michael answered.

  “That’s why I was able to enter the Garden, isn’t it? Because I’m not completely human.”

  Michael nodded. “The angelic heritage is also what makes comarré blood so irresistible to vampires, and why, to vampires, comarré glow.”

  Behind her, Mal made a sound of disbelief.

  “So you and my mother were… that is…” She shook her head, mostly to empty it of the images starting to form there.

  “No.” His gentle smile eased her discomfort. “Conception was never physical. That’s not necessary for my kind.”

  “Did my mother know?”

  “No. None of the comarré chosen to bear children knew about their angelic partners, or do to this day.” He looked at Mal. “It’s a necessary secret and must remain so. Can you imagine if the nobility knew the comarré living in their homes were direct descendants of their embittered enemies? The ancients would have every one of them murdered.”

  Mal put his hand on her back. “So why tell us?”

  “Because if there is anything you both excel at, it’s keeping secrets, and this is one that must be kept.”

  “What about Damian?” Chrysabelle asked. “Can I tell him?”

&nbs
p; Michael thought for a moment. “I would prefer you didn’t.”

  “Again,” Mal said. “Why tell us at all?”

  Michael sighed. “Because I will not be able to see Chrysabelle again after today. Her relationship with you… complicates things.”

  Mal growled. “Are you trying to say I tainted her?”

  “Mal.” She turned slightly and rested her hand on his chest, trying to stave off the sudden spark of fear that he might challenge Michael. And lose.

  “You cannot pretend not to understand the ramifications of the two of you being together.” The sudden fierceness in Michael’s eyes erased all previous softness. “I am the leader of the heavenly armies. Even the appearance that I might be acquainted with a child of my fallen brethren is unthinkable.” He held up his hand when Mal opened his mouth. “Your child, however, will know me. And you will never be without whatever protection I can manage.”

  He turned to look back at the Garden. “Although I don’t imagine you’ll need much of that now.” His gaze landed on Mal again. “I know you love her. Take the utmost care of her and this child she will soon give you.”

  “Or what?” Mal asked, challenge ripe in his question. “You’ll kill me?”

  Michael spread his wings, blocking out the view of the garden behind him. “No.” He smiled and nodded at Chrysabelle. “She’ll do that herself.”

  Mal snorted and the tension between them dissipated. “Duly noted. It’s not like she hasn’t already tried.”

  Chrysabelle exhaled. She’d never felt quite so exhausted. “Thank you for telling me who you are. And for everything else.” She glanced at Lilith, still being entertained by Eae, and a thought occurred to her. “If I’m never going to see you again, there is one thing I’d like to ask of you. A favor.”

  Michael thought for a moment, then nodded. “What do you desire?”

  She tilted her head toward the Garden. “The fruit that turned Lilith into a child again… would it restore the humanity to any vampire in a similar situation?”

  He shook his head. “It will not work for Malkolm.”

  “I’m not asking for him.”

  Michael thought for a moment, glancing back at Lilith and Eae. Then he nodded. “It would.”

  “Would you allow me just this once to take one with me? I give you my solemn vow it will be used for the purpose intended and nothing else.”

  “If it isn’t, that person’s life will be forfeit.”

  “Understood.”

  He held out his hand to her. In his palm appeared one of the gleaming black apples. “This will be one more secret between us.”

  She smiled and took the apple. “Thank you, Father.”

  Michael stepped back and lifted his eyes skyward for a moment before nodding at her. “Peace be with you.” He glanced at Eae, shifting their attention to the guardian. “Peace to you.”

  “Peace to you,” the other angel responded, enfolding Lilith in his wings at the same time as a burst of lightning and booming thunderclap shattered the silence. Chrysabelle cringed at the sudden noise. When she looked up, Michael was gone.

  Eae opened his wings and Lilith giggled. Apparently, he’d shielded her from Michael’s raucous departure.

  Mal’s cool fingers laced through hers. “You okay? That was a lot of heavy information.”

  “I’m fine.” Mostly she was. Processing everything Michael had told her might take a few days. Her father was an angel. Not just an angel, the archangel. She was about to make the leader of Heaven’s army a grandfather. With a half-vampire child. Heavy didn’t begin to cover what she was feeling.

  “You think Lilith will remember any of this?”

  “I don’t know. If she does, someone’s going to have to explain it to her someday.”

  Mal squeezed her hand. “This was one strange trip for all of us. And considering the things we’ve seen, that’s saying something.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Her hand went to her belly as a spell of light-headedness made her wobble.

  Mal caught her in his arms as she leaned into him. “What’s wrong? You just went white. Are you sick? Is it the baby?”

  “I’m just tired is all. Growing the first human-angel-vampire hybrid isn’t easy.”

  He smiled, then quickly wiped it off his face when she scowled at him. “I can’t imagine it is.” He picked her up in his arms, something she’d normally protest, but normally, she didn’t feel like she was on the verge of passing out. “Where’s that portal?”

  Eae stepped forward, holding Lilith’s hand, and pointed. “Under the sand.”

  “Thanks.” Mal leaned down and put his mouth to her ear. “Let’s go home, mama. For good this time.”

  She smiled as her eyelids drooped. “Best idea you’ve had.”

  “Doppelgangers are extinct,” Doc said. Maybe they should have looked at those files. Vernadetto might have something mental going on.

  “Are you sure?” Fi asked. “What is a doppelganger? Like that evil twin thing?” She glanced at Vernadetto. “Are you evil? You don’t seem evil.”

  “No, I’m not evil and doppelgangers are not extinct. Not that it matters.” The man lowered his head. “I should go.”

  Doc wasn’t about to let him drop this bomb and leave. “You can’t just tell us doppelgangers exist, you are one, and then split. You owe us some kind of explanation.”

  With a long exhale, Vernadetto leaned back and put the envelope next to him. “I know doppelgangers are real because I come from a long line of them. My family has done everything in its power to kill the line. We don’t marry other varcolai. We do our best not to reproduce. And we never, ever let the change take over.”

  “Why? What exactly is a doppelganger?” Fi’s eyes were as big as streetlights. There was no way she was letting this drop. He knew his girl too well.

  Vernadetto answered. “It’s kind of like what you said, Fiona, a twin, but a doppelganger is actually a rare form of varcolai.”

  She glanced at Doc. He nodded. Rare was an understatement. She looked back at Vernadetto. “So you can shift?”

  Vernadetto sighed. “Into any type of creature we want so long as we know what it looks like.”

  “Holy crap.” Fi squealed, a noise Doc recognized as barely bottled excitement. “You mean you could turn into Doc in his leopard form? Or me when I’m a ghost?”

  He nodded, doubt clouding his eyes. “Exactly like that.”

  “Double holy crap.” Fi grinned. “That is wicked cool.”

  Doc laughed. “She’s right. It beats my being a leopard all day long.”

  Vernadetto shook his head. “It’s not cool at all. It’s horrible. The being we mimic usually dies within a few days of contact with us. We’re like… omens of death. It’s why my family has kept the power hidden and tried to erase the line. We never shift. Never. That’s what the amulet is for. It reflects our own image back to us so that the urge to change is virtually removed.” His fingers went to the chain. “There’s some deeper magic than that involved, but those are the basics.”

  Fi patted his hand. “Denying your nature is no way to live your life. Your power can’t be all bad.”

  He stood and paced to the other side of the room. “I became a police officer to do some good with my life.” He stopped at the windows and looked out onto the city. “I have no intention of doing anything to harm the life I’ve built as a human.”

  “What if we knew someone who might be able to help you?” Doc asked.

  Vernadetto turned. “Like who?” Doc held out his hand and let the blue flames erupt from his fingers. Vernadetto drew back. “I thought that was… taken care of.”

  “Not taken care of so much as I learned to control it. Barasa’s got a shaman’s background and some higher education on dealing with othernatural issues. He helped me. He could probably help you.”

  Relief washed over Vernadetto’s face, but it was fleeting. He turned back to the windows. “I’m a cop. I know what the pride charges for services like that.
I can’t afford that kind of help.”

  “You can if you’re a member of the pride,” Doc said. “Then it wouldn’t cost you a thing.”

  Vernadetto laughed bitterly. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but—”

  “About that offer I mentioned.” Doc leaned forward. “It would make you an honorary member of the Paradise City pride.”

  Vernadetto looked at him. “How is that even possible?”

  Fi laughed, unable to contain herself. “You have to say yes.”

  His expression softened when he looked at Fi. “I don’t know what it is yet.”

  “We need you,” Fi said.

  Doc nodded. “She’s right. We do.” He paused. Vernadetto had to agree. He was exactly what the pride needed to regain confidence in Doc’s leadership. “I’d like you to become one of my council members.”

  Vernadetto stared at them. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, duh,” Fi said. “Say yes.”

  He smiled. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  Dominic arrived exactly when he said he would, his sleek sedan pulling quietly to the curb outside the machine shop. Creek leaned against the building near the entrance. Mortalis got out first and opened the door for Dominic. With his dark suit and precise grooming, he stood out in this section of town like a Rottweiler at a cat show.

  Mortalis tipped his head to Creek. He nodded back. Maybe he’d ask the fae to be his second, because he certainly wasn’t asking his mother or grandmother. Neither of them needed to be responsible for carting his dead body out of here if it came to that. Which he prayed it wouldn’t.

  Dominic buttoned his jacket as he approached. “Surely we aren’t doing this out here?”

  “No. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t attract any extra company.” Creek rolled back the machine shop’s heavy door. “Come in.”

  He shut it again after the vampire and the fae entered. “Everything turn out all right?”

 

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