Out for Blood hoc-4

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Out for Blood hoc-4 Page 2

by Kristen Painter


  “My love,” Octavian said. “The tests might not be such a bad idea. We want the best for her. That includes the best care. You don’t know what she might have picked up from her mother.”

  Tatiana turned toward the vampire who’d become inseparable from her since his recent turning. She’d come to rely on him far more than she’d ever relied on anyone else. It unnerved her, but she chose not to dwell on it. “You think she could be in danger from a human illness?”

  He shrugged and pushed out of the rocker to stand beside her. He stroked his finger down Lilith’s pink cheek, his eyes sparking silver. “We don’t want to take any chances with our precious girl, do we?”

  If only Tatiana’s own father had cared so much about his daughter. Lilith wasn’t even Octavian’s blood. “No,” she said softly, drinking in the fatherly affection he displayed toward her adopted child. “Only the best for her.”

  Octavian smiled and gave her a wink. “Only the best for both of you.”

  The doctor visibly relaxed. “So you would like to proceed with the tests?”

  Octavian nodded, his face suddenly stern. “Harm this child in any way and I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The doctor paled. “I’ll just get my bag.” He shuffled away to rummage through his things.

  Octavian guided Tatiana toward the divan. “Sit. You’ll both be more comfortable.” She did and he sat beside her. “Any word from Lord Edwin on this ball the House of Bathory is giving in your honor?”

  She shook her head, unable to keep a slight smile off her lips. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Is it working?”

  “Maybe.” She shifted Lilith from her arms to her lap. “He sent word earlier. I meant to tell you. The ball is a week from today. At Lord Syler’s mansion in achtice.”

  Octavian wrinkled his nose. “Slovakia? Can’t say as I find that appealing.”

  She laughed. “You’re such a snob. It’s lovely, I assure you. And in hosting this ball, Syler confirms his alliance with the House of Tepes.”

  “Yes, but it means we have to travel.” His gaze lit upon Lilith. “We must be heavily guarded. Every precaution taken.”

  A subtle throat clearing interrupted their conversation. The doctor stood before them, syringe in hand. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Tatiana took a voluntary breath. “I want to know everything you’re going to do before you do it.”

  “Of course, my lady. I’m simply going to do a heel stick and extract the blood from there. I doubt the child will like it, but in one so young, it’s the best way.”

  “Very well.” She moved the blanket swaddling Lilith so that her little feet were exposed.

  The doctor pulled a nearby chair closer and sat, then swabbed Lilith’s heel with antiseptic. “Keep her still as best you can.” He held her foot in his fingers and slid the needle in.

  Lilith’s eyes flew open and a piercing wail erupted from her throat. The doctor winced. Tatiana raised her hand to shove him off her child, but Octavian caught her wrist before she could strike.

  “What are you—”

  “This must be done.” He shook his head, eyes bracketed with concern. “It hurts me to hear her cry, too, but it’s for the best.”

  “For the best,” the doctor reiterated. “Almost done. There now.” He slid the needle out and twisted a cap over it to seal the vial. “There, there.” He patted Lilith’s stomach.

  She caught his finger in her tiny, flailing fist and latched on. The doctor smiled. She brought his finger to her mouth and began to suck on it.

  “She’s just hungry,” he said. “That’s all—What the…” He tried to yank his hand away, but Lilith held fast. He cursed. “She’s bitten me. The little beast has her teeth in me!”

  Octavian leaped up. “How dare you!”

  “Beast?” Tatiana snarled as her face shifted and her fangs descended. She clamped her hand over the doctor’s arm, holding him in place. “You took her blood. Now she’ll take some of yours.” She pulled him closer so she could aim her silver gaze into his mud-brown kine eyes. “Apologize for calling her such a horrible name or you’ll pay with more than blood.”

  The doctor trembled, his eyes flicking from Tatiana to Lilith to Octavian. “I… I apologize for my disrespectful comment. It will not happen again.”

  Tatiana tightened her grip, causing the doctor to whimper as his bones ground together. “You’re lucky to still be alive, kine.”

  Octavian snorted in agreement.

  “Yes, my lady.” The doctor nodded, doing his best to get as far away as he could while in her grasp.

  A popping sound announced the release of his finger from Lilith’s mouth. Blood trickled from two red pinpoints on the pad of his index finger.

  Tatiana released him as well. “Go now while you still can. I want those results immediately.”

  The doctor gathered his things with great haste, depositing the vial of blood into his waistcoat pocket. “Of course, my lady.”

  Octavian kissed her cheek. “To make sure that’s all he does with her blood, I’ll accompany him back to the lab and stay until the tests are completed.”

  She nodded. “A wise decision.”

  He took the doctor by the elbow and began to escort him out. “And don’t think I won’t kill you if you make one false move.”

  Tatiana curled Lilith into her arms and rested farther back into the divan’s depths, comforted by the knowledge that she was no longer the only one with her child’s best interests at heart.

  Everglades, New Florida

  Creek notched the kickstand down on his V-Rod and hopped off his bike. The last time he’d been out to his grandmother’s had been in a last-ditch effort to keep Chrysabelle from bleeding out after having her signum stripped off her back. As a tribe healer, his grandmother had known what to do, but Mal hadn’t liked it. Neither had Chrysabelle.

  This time, Creek was the one who needed help.

  He climbed the steps of the small, wood-paneled house to knock on her door. Not that there was a need to announce himself with Pip around. His grandmother’s fifty-pound mutt barked like the house was on fire anytime a person, vehicle, or gator got within a few yards of the place. “Pip, settle down. Mawmaw, it’s me, Tommy.”

  One last bark and the door opened. “Shush, Pip, you’ll wake the dead.” Rosa Mae Jumper peered up at Creek through the thick lenses of her glasses. “I know who it is.” She smiled and held her arms out to him. “Come here, child.”

  He gave Pip a quick head rub, then bent to embrace her, inhaling the soft violet scent of the homemade sweet acacia perfume she wore. “How are you, Mawmaw?”

  “Just fine.” She let him go only to take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. The aroma of browned meat greeted him, making his stomach grumble. “I’ve got a venison roast in the oven. Sit down and you can eat supper with me.”

  “A whole roast? I thought Mom was still on night shift.” The table was set for two. “You and Pip eating formal tonight?”

  Without looking at him, she tsked. “Foolish boy, that setting’s for you. I knew you were coming. Don’t I always?”

  Yes, she did. He smiled and took a seat at the kitchen table while she went to the oven. Mawmaw knew all kinds of things that most people never had a clue about. He hadn’t planned on eating here, but she’d be more amenable if he did. Plus, eating her cooking was no hardship after his years of prison food. Damn, he was glad the KM had gotten him out of there, even if they did hold it over his head like a thousand-pound weight.

  While they ate, he got her to tell stories from his childhood and managed to keep the conversation to lighter topics, but the way she looked at him said she wasn’t that easily fooled. At last she cleared the plates, set a pan of scraps down for Pip, and motioned for Creek to join her on the back porch. He took the rocker next to her, the paint worn off the seat and arms from use. She lit a cigarette and offered him one.


  He shook his head. “Those’ll kill you, you know.”

  She inhaled long and slow before letting out three perfect smoke rings. “So will those damned blood eaters you chase after.”

  He laughed softly. No hiding anything from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m sure you don’t. Just like I don’t feel the air of power coming off you.” She took another puff. “Nice of you to visit.”

  In other words, get on with it. “I need your help, Mawmaw.”

  “You tired of working for those people?”

  He shifted. The way his grandmother sensed things… “Those people got me out of jail. Paid Una’s tuition.” Kept his sister, Mawmaw, and his mother safe, too.

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  He sighed and watched a red hawk float on a thermal. “Sometimes, yes, I am bone-tired of working for them, but a deal’s a deal.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Time to change the subject. “I need a charm made.”

  Pip came out licking his chops and flopped at Mawmaw’s feet with a contented sigh. She stared out at the swamp that made up her backyard. “What kind of charm?”

  He dug into his shirt pocket, extracted the three black feathers he’d been given, and held them out to her. “This kind.”

  Pip lifted his head and gave a short, growling bark.

  Rosa stopped rocking. The ash on her cigarette grew a little longer while she studied his offering. At last, she tapped the ash off and set the cigarette into a coffee cup filled with a little sand. “I don’t know what all you’re involved with these days, Thomas, but that’s nothing for you to play with.”

  “I’m not playing. I need the protection.”

  “You need to leave that woman alone.”

  “It’s too late for that now.”

  She turned enough to see his eyes. “It’s never too late.”

  He stared at the words HOLD FAST tattooed across his knuckles. “It is. I saved her life. She’s sworn to protect me now.”

  His grandmother dropped her head as if praying, her eyes squeezed tightly closed for a moment, and she sighed hard. When she raised her head, Creek swore there were tears in her eyes. She held out her hand. “These are from her?”

  He gave her the feathers. “Yes.”

  She turned them over in her fingers. “This is dark magic, child. And dark magic can’t be trusted. It’s fickle. Like a woman.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here. She told me to come to you.”

  All expression vanished from her face as she looked up at him. “Did she call me by name?”

  “No,” he reassured her. “She didn’t say your name.”

  Relief lit her eyes. “Maybe she truly doesn’t mean any harm, then.” She turned the feathers over again, looking for what he didn’t know. “They feel… false.”

  “They’re real. I saw her pull them from her hair.”

  “Not what I meant.” She frowned. “I’ll make the charm. You’re going to need it if what you’ve told me is true.”

  “It is. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  She gave him a sideways look. “But you’d step over the truth if you had to.”

  “There are some things you shouldn’t know.” Like the full details about his work as a Kubai Mata, defender of mankind, killer of othernaturals, and enslaver of desperate mortal men.

  She got out of her chair. Pip was on his feet a second later. “Yes, I know, it’s for my own protection.” She motioned with a tip of her head back toward the house. “Come inside. Let’s get this charm made.”

  An hour later and missing a little blood, Creek rode away from his grandmother’s, the charm dangling from a leather cord around his neck. He’d promised to visit more often but knew that promise was emptier than he meant it to be. His life was unsettled, his time not his own, and judging by the flock of ravens overhead, none of that was about to change any time soon.

  Chapter Three

  Paradise City, New Florida

  Madam Mayor?”

  “Yes?” Lola Diaz-White looked at Valerie, her administrative assistant, and away from her inbox, currently overflowing with e-mails from citizens expressing their fear or in some cases harassment from their human neighbors or their disapproval of how she was handling the othernatural situation from both sides, or reminding her elections were less than a year away. It was enough to make her wonder if reelection was worth it.

  “Alden Willamette is here to see you, and the police chief is still waiting.”

  Willamette was a city councilman. No doubt he’d been getting the same kind of e-mails she had. He was a good man, honest, and one of her most stalwart supporters. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off the headache building behind her eyes. “Send Alden in first.”

  The man came in a few moments later, shutting the door behind him. “Lola.”

  “Alden. Please, have a seat.”

  He stayed standing. “I’m fine. This won’t take long. I’m sorry about this, I really am, but”—he reached into his suit jacket, pulled out an envelope, and laid it on her desk—“effective immediately, I’m resigning.”

  Her jaw slacked. “You can’t just resign. It’s not like you can be replaced that easily.”

  “I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t mean to do it this way. Things just came to a head these last few days. As of today, though, I’ve tied up all my loose ends.” With a labored sigh, he finally sat. A thousand emotions rolled through his eyes. “Lucinda’s fae. Three-quarters.”

  Again, Lola’s jaw went south. She sat back slowly. His wife had always been unnaturally beautiful. His daughters, too. And there had always been… something curious about them. His revelation explained so much. “I understand you have a lot to deal with, but why does this mean you have to resign?”

  He looked up, the only emotions left on his face anger and pain. “We’ve been married twenty-one years and she never bothered to tell me until the night of Halloween when she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Now she’s taking the girls and moving to New Orleans. Says it’s a haven city and the only safe place for them.” He ran a hand across his face. “Do you know there are three fringe vampires in our neighborhood? Three. They look at my girls like they’re sizing up their next kill. And Kaleigh—you know teenagers—she’s ready to fight every time she thinks her little sister is being threatened.” He stood and walked to the windows. “Lucinda’s right about moving them. She and I have a lot to work through, but my kids are the innocents here.”

  “I understand that more than you know.” She joined him at the windows. Being mayor meant she had power, but Lola had never felt so helpless in her life. Despite her connections and her pull in this city, she was no closer to holding her grandchild in her arms. Her half-vampire grandchild.

  He glanced at her, but she didn’t elaborate. Her grandchild was her business. “I’m sorry to see you go.”

  “Thanks.” He frowned. “I’ll be here another day or two if you need me.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just take care of your family.”

  He was quiet as he turned toward the door. Then he stopped. “You know, if I could become one of them, I would. It would make everything so much easier.”

  The words startled her, because she’d begun to wonder the same thing. “You would?”

  “Absolutely. They’re faster than us, stronger than us, they outlive us. Why would anyone not?”

  “A varcolai killed my daughter.”

  “Because your daughter was human. If she’d been othernatural, she’d have at least had a fighting chance.” He shook his head. “Face it. They’re superior. I’d rather join them than become a slave to them.” He held his hands up. “Mark my words. The tide will turn. Humans will become vampires as much as they can because that’s the only choice. Fae and varcolai will side against them. War will come if peace isn’t found first. Being in a haven city seems more and more like the only way a mortal like me will survive.” />
  She said nothing, just stayed at the windows after he shut the door behind him. His words slowly soaked into her. She turned and stared into her city. The fall of twilight meant the city looked almost normal, but during daylight it was impossible not to notice the damage left behind by Samhain night. The broken buildings and scorched streets were being repaired, but life would never be the same for any of them after that night. Would people desert her city if she couldn’t protect them?

  She leaned her head against the glass. How could she protect her citizens when she was as vulnerable and human as they were?

  Maybe Alden was on to something about humans becoming vampires. It was like he’d somehow sensed the small thoughts creeping into her mind. Her excursion this evening might help her make sense of it all. Maybe show her the right decision. Or present her with an opportunity. She already knew what her abuela would say.

  “Mayor?”

  At Police Chief Vernadetto’s voice, she turned. “What can I do for you?”

  He gestured toward her desk with the hand that held his hat. “Did you read my report?”

  “No, not yet. I’ve spent the day wading through e-mails and taking phone calls from concerned citizens. My apologies. Can you sum it up?” She went back to her desk, sat and began to dig out the paperwork.

  He nodded. “Long story short, several of my night patrol teams have been repeatedly harassed—hunted, you might say—in the bayside area. To the point that they’ve all requested reassignment unless they’re allowed to use deadly force. Problem is, I can’t get any human officers to go down there.”

  “And the teams that are being hunted? What are they? Varcolai?”

  “Varcolai are the ones doing the harassing. My teams are all fringe.”

  “Vampires? Being harassed?”

  “Most nights the odds are twenty to two. Not even a vampire can deal with that many shifters.”

  She shook her head. Her city was in deep. “What’s your solution?”

  “Deadly force. Make an example.”

 

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