Out for Blood hoc-4

by Kristen Painter

  He turned the e-reader off and the holovision on, keeping the volume low. He just needed to monitor the situation, in case Mal needed him. No telling what the mayor might try to pull at the last second.

  The door opened and two of his three advisers entered.

  “Where’s Fritz?”

  Barasa cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry, but he’s quit.”

  Doc furrowed his brow. “He quit? Why?”

  Omur glanced at Barasa. “He was Sinjin’s man, Maddoc. Be glad he’s gone.”

  Doc nodded. “In that case, I am.” He gestured to the sofa and chairs in front of his desk. “Sit, please.”

  Omur, a cheetah-shifter, sat last. From what little Doc knew of him, Omur didn’t seem like he’d ever been in Sinjin’s pocket. His words about Fritz confirmed that. “First, we want you to know how pleased we are that you were released. We were prepared to break you out.”

  “I’m not sure how helpful that would have been to the situation, but thanks.”

  Omur nodded. “We also feel like the time has come to make a statement about the mayor’s curfew.”

  “Club numbers were almost half tonight.” Barasa was the pride’s chief physician. The tiger-shifter sighed, clearly frustrated. “Folks are afraid to come out.”

  Doc leaned his forearms on his desk. “I hear you. It’s not good for business and it’s not good for the morale of the pride. Have you put any kind of statement together?”

  Omur shrugged. “We didn’t want to overstep our—”

  Doc held a hand up. “It’s for the good of the pride, isn’t it?”

  They nodded.

  “Then it’s not overstepping any bounds to get something together. I don’t know how Sinjin would have looked at it, but I’m guessing a lot differently. Forget Sinjin. He’s gone. And I don’t do things like he did. You’ve got to get that.” He took a breath and made brief eye contact with both of them. “Things have been tense since I’ve taken over. Just the circumstances under which I got here have caused cracks in the pride’s loyalties. Fritz and Brutus are proof of that.”

  Omur steepled his fingers. “Until that situation is resolved, it won’t get better.”

  Doc leaned back in his chair. “The vampire Malkolm took my place tonight.” He pointed at the TV. “If not for him, I’d still be chained in the middle of the square. My final word on the Brutus situation is that Malkolm’s act tonight pays his debt. Understood?”

  “Understood,” they spoke the word almost in unison.

  A new sense of confidence spread through Doc. “Before we work on this statement, there’s another thing I need to talk about.”

  Their gazes stayed on him, filled with expectation.

  He swallowed and prepared himself for the fight that was sure to come. “I want to divorce Heaven.”

  By the time Lola got home, most of her staff was in bed, the same place she planned to be as soon as she scrubbed off the day’s grime. Whatever sleep she could get would have to suffice. In a few hours, she’d have to be up again to deal with the new challenges as they arose. Fallout from the curfew would be a big part of that. She sighed. The job never got easier, but the curfew was a step in the right direction. Both the othernatural and human communities would learn to either get along or pay the price if they wanted to live in her city. They’d also learn she was not afraid of either of them.

  As quietly as she could, she made her way to the master suite. She flipped the light on with one hand as she struggled to get out of her suit jacket with the other. Shedding it, she turned around and almost screamed. Her hand went to the gun in her waistband. She brandished it at the intruder. “Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?”

  “Mayor.” The well-dressed vampire sitting in her reading chair nodded in greeting. Behind him, the sheers waved gently where the sliding door was still open a few inches. “I am Dominic Scarnato.” Even without the name, his accent gave away his nationality. He stood with more than the usual vampire grace. “I apologize for my intrusion, but we have business to discuss and your curfew makes it otherwise impossible for me to meet with you.” He pointed at the gun she currently aimed at him. “That endangers you far more than it does me.”

  She held the gun steady anyway, a triumph considering the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “What business could we possibly have to discuss?”

  “My business. I own the nightclub Seven. You may have heard of it. The tax revenues alone probably pay city hall’s electric bill.”

  Her hand started to shake. “You… you’re the one who turned my daughter into a blood whore.” She thrust the gun forward. “She worked for you. She died because of you.”

  He held his hands up. “Those who choose to become comarré do so of their own free will. I am not responsible for their decisions. And those who work for me are very well cared for, I assure you.” His eyes flashed silver. “And the comarré are not whores.”

  “You don’t even know her name, do you?”

  He frowned. “Julia. You have my sincere regrets at her loss. I know that pain.” He touched his chest. “It stays with you for the rest of your life.”

  “Really,” she snapped. “Who’ve you lost? All the victims you’ve made a meal of?”

  “Madam Mayor, I do not kill for my sustenance. That is the whole purpose of the comarré. They provide a valuable service to my kind.” He paused, his face going stony. “For your information, the pain I feel is for one I loved very deeply. One for whom I gave up everything. One who was once comarré herself. Maris Lapointe.”

  Lola held tightly to the gun but let her hand fall to her side. “Chrysabelle’s mother?”

  “Si.”

  Her mind immediately went to Preacher’s professions of love for Julia. “Does that happen often? A vampire falling in love with a comarré?”

  “Love is its own master. Who can say what is often and what is rare? All that matters is that it happens.” Dominic shrugged. “You see? We are not so different from humans.”

  “Except that you have the power to wipe us out if you so desire.” She couldn’t let him distract her from the truth or let herself forget that under his expensive suit and manicured good looks, he was still dangerous.

  His jaw tightened and he rolled his eyes. “Mamma mia, why would we want to wipe out the human race? What purpose would that serve us? We want to live as you do, to have friends, family, a peaceable existence.” He held his hands out. “We are not… monsters. We are only different.”

  “Different.” She exhaled a short, loud breath. “That’s an understatement.”

  “You have varcolai on your staff who protect you. There are fringe vampires who work night shifts on the city’s police force. Remnants who care for the sick as doctors and nurses in the hospital. Do you see them as a problem? If you say yes, you are a fool for allowing them to keep their jobs. If you say no, you are a hypocrite for leveling this curfew against them.”

  She stared at him, choosing her words carefully. “Whether human or othernatural, there will always be those who think they are above the law. That sect of the othernatural population is who the human population fears. The curfew is the best defense the city has until both sides find a way to live in peace.” Creek had stressed that. “So you see, I can’t lift the curfew for you and ignore my human constituents. Why should they live in fear so your othernatural patrons can party? The tax revenues can be made up elsewhere.”

  “It would be a gesture of good faith. There has been no real reason for the curfew anyway.”

  “My daughter’s death and the death of the two other women is reason enough.” She blinked, trying to remember what Creek had said that had made the curfew seem like the right decision.

  “The killer was caught and dealt with. Would you put a curfew on the human citizens if one of them went on a killing spree?”

  “If I thought it would help, yes.” She shook her head. “I’m not lifting the curfew. Please go.”

  But he didn’t move.
“There must be something you want. Elections are less than a year away. Perhaps a generous donation to your campaign fund?”

  She was about to snap that she couldn’t be bought, when she realized there was something she wanted very, very much. So much, that she rocked back on her heels slightly with the weight of it. This was her chance. Maybe her only chance. She set the useless gun on her dressing table and walked a few steps closer. “There are two things I want.”

  He smiled. “At last, we see eye to eye.”

  She stood as close as she dared, which was still a few feet away. “First, understand that at the next incident involving any othernatural, the curfew will be back in place and you’ll support it.”

  His smile faltered. “I can only control those in my club—”

  “Do you agree or not?”

  Not a trace of the smile remained. “I agree. What is the second thing?”

  She took a breath. “I want you to turn me.”

  “Turn you?”

  “Into a vampire. Like you.”

  For a few moments, he just stared blankly at her, as though he couldn’t fathom what she’d just asked. “After setting this curfew in place and everything you’ve said to me, you would become the very creature you fear? The same creatures who cause your precious city so much trouble?”

  “I would not become a monster ruled by my appetites. I would be no different than I am now, just more powerful, more capable of running this city with an understanding for both sides, and better equipped to mediate the wishes of all my citizens.” He didn’t need to know about Mariela or her fears that Paradise City would become a ghost town when her citizens fled.

  His face shifted the same way the vampire Malkolm’s had, leaving all traces of humanity behind for hard angles and jutting bones. His eyes shone silver. “Foolish, foolish mortal.” He pounded one fist against his chest. “You think my life is so easy? That I have power and wealth and not a care in the world? Pah.” He spat. “You are stupido.” He threw his hands up. “I won’t do it.”

  She held her ground. “You will if you want the curfew dropped. Think about how much better things would be if you had me as an ally and not an enemy. Think about how much more compassionate I would be to othernatural issues.”

  He leaned in, his fangs gleaming in the room’s soft light. “And if you didn’t survive the turning? What then? I would have your death on my hands? I think not.”

  His words chilled her. “What do you mean if I didn’t survive?”

  He backed away, nodding. “Si, that’s right. Death is a possibility. Not this kind of death.” He touched his chest again. “But real death. Permanent death. Are you willing to risk that?”

  She stared at him, trying to wrap her head around what he’d just told her. That wasn’t a consequence she’d known about. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He made a noise deep in his throat.

  His apparent disgust at her weakness galvanized her. “What if I am willing to risk it?” She stepped toward him. “Turn me. Right now. And let the consequences fall where they may. If things go poorly, no one will ever know it was you. You’ll be perfectly safe. And if things go well, you’ll never have to worry about anything interfering with your way of life again.”

  “Is that how it will be? I sire you and life becomes wonderful for all of us again?” He stalked toward her, mouth open and fangs fully on display. The urge to retreat scratched at her resolve, but she steeled herself and stayed planted. This was what was best for the city after all, and her only hope of going after Mariela.

  “Yes,” she whispered as he grew closer.

  His shoulder brushed hers as he circled around behind her. “And the pain? That won’t bother you?”

  “No.” Her pulse battered her eardrums as every nerve in her body stretched taut with anxious anticipation. She’d have been calmer lost at sea and surrounded by sharks.

  He came around her other side, so close she could count his long, black eyelashes. “You won’t fight me when death takes hold and draws you into the abyss?”

  “No, I swear.”

  “I think you lie.”

  In the next second, he went from standing beside her to pinning her in his arms. His teeth pierced her neck and she cried out, both from the suddenness and the pain. She forced herself not to struggle, to stay calm. She focused on the feel of his mouth on her throat, the coolness of his skin, the strength of his embrace.

  Her thoughts blurred into a numb acceptance and a new sensation arose within her, one she’d not felt in many years.

  Desire.

  His touch sent shivers of pleasure through her. The slight pain that remained sharpened her need for more with every pull of his mouth. She moaned something. Begged for him not to stop. She sank into each throb of her pulse, lost in the decadent haze of being devoured. “Yes,” she whispered against his cheek. “Yes.”

  He clamped down harder.

  Darkness crept under the edges of her pleasure, shattering it into small, jagged pieces. Her fingers and toes went numb. Coldness seeped into her bones, snapping a warning along her nerves. She twitched with the urge to pull away.

  A high-pitched whine filled her ears as the darkness drew closer. She dug her fingers into his arms and pushed, but he held fast. She beat at him as flashes of red pierced her vision. Run! her brain screamed. But she couldn’t. Her body had gone limp, her bones leaden, her muscles rubber. Panic engulfed her, wrenching her in painful, desperate swells.

  Her brain stopped screaming, smothered by the darkness. It was all she saw, eyes open or closed. Suddenly, she fell to the ground.

  Her vision returned enough for her to make out Dominic standing over her. He peered down at her with obvious disdain. “Did you enjoy that? Your taste of death?”

  She tried to shake her head but couldn’t tell if she managed it or not. Anger at her humiliation overrode all other feeling. Hot tears slid past her temples and into her hair.

  “No, of course not, because death scares humans.” He huffed. “You’re not ready. You’re too weak. Too frail. Too human.” He leaned down, his lips red with her blood and redolent with the coppery scent of it. “Don’t ask me again, because if you weren’t ready this time, you never will be.”

  Then he was gone. She clung to the anger growing inside her, held on to it like a buoy and let it lift her up. He was wrong. Wrong. She needed the power he had if she was ever going to save her grandchild and her city. She was ready. The vampire had just moved too fast. He hadn’t let her prepare. But he had made one thing perfectly clear to her.

  Becoming a vampire was the only way she was going to survive this new world, but until that happened, she was going to have to act with the same brutal swiftness Dominic just had.

  She would show him just how ready she was. She wiped the tears from her face. “Death doesn’t scare me, vampire,” she whispered into the empty room. “Does it scare you?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chrysabelle had Jerem park a few blocks from the town square.

  He glanced at her through the rearview mirror after he’d turned the engine off, his eyes kind but shaded with worry. “You sure look different.”

  She met his gaze in the mirror, catching a glimpse of herself. The last time she’d covered her signum with makeup, she’d been running from something. This time, she was running to someone. How much things had changed. “That’s the point.” She zipped the big hooded sweatshirt he’d lent her. “Thanks for this again.” The voluminous black jacket hung past her hips. She’d added a pair of her mother’s black yoga pants and simple black flats. The entire disguise made her feel slightly invulnerable. Like an uncatchable thief. She pulled the hood up and slipped on Fi’s borrowed sunglasses.

  “Be safe,” Jerem said. “I’ve got the window cracked. You need me, just yell.”

  “I will.” She exited and shut the door behind her. The city was deserted because of the curfew, but also because everyone was now at home in front of
their holovisions burning electricity to watch the mayor’s show. Fueled by anger, Chrysabelle picked up the pace. Her part in that show would be as minimal as she could make it. Tonight was all about Mal and bearing this punishment with him, as much as she could.

  The bright lights set up by the local stations illuminated the square and divided it into patches of brilliance and deep shadow. Police patrolled while the camera crews and reporters hung around drinking coffee. Generators set up to run the media equipment droned like jet engines, destroying any quiet the night might have had. And at the center of it, Mal hung between the two posts as utterly still as he’d been when she left.

  She swallowed down her anger, now bitter with sadness. She hated seeing him this way.

  The evening breeze shifted, pushing against her back. Mal lifted his head. She smiled. Had he picked up her scent? He might not be able to hear her heartbeat over the incessant buzz of the generators.

  Eager to be with him, she cut around the square so she could come in toward him with the cameras at her back. Even with her signum masked with foundation, she had no desire to show her face on television, no desire to do anything that might find its way back to Tatiana and give her new reason to return to Paradise City.

  “Chrysabelle?”

  She paused near the bumper of a camera truck. Luke Havoc stood just beyond the circle of light. She pulled off the sunglasses and nodded. “Yes, it’s me.”

  He came toward her, squinting a little. “If not for your scent, I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

  “Good. I’m hoping no one else will either.”

  He nodded. “I understand. I’m here to get you through security. In case they give you a hard time.”

  “Shouldn’t you be guarding the mayor?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m the head of the team, not the whole team. Besides, that place is like Fort Knox. No one’s getting in there.”

  “I don’t know how you can work for her given the circumstances.”

  He glanced away, his jaw tightening. “It’s a job.”