Out for Blood hoc-4

by Kristen Painter

  The word slipped out before she realized how it sounded. “I didn’t mean—”

  The comar laughed. “Please, my lady. I’m supposed to smell delicious.” He held his arm out to her.

  She stared at it, unsure.

  “To bite,” Luciano said. “The wrist is less intimate.”

  She nodded and took the comar’s arm, then stopped. “What’s your name? I feel like I should at least know your name.”

  “I am Hector.” His slight accent recalled her childhood.

  “Are you Cuban?” No wonder he’d reminded her so much of Julia.

  “Si.” He laughed. “And I know who you are.” He tipped his head. “I am honored to be your first blood.”

  The realization that what she’d become would soon be public knowledge struck her. Despite her growing hunger, she let her hands drop to her lap. Hector’s arm rested lightly in her grip, his warm flesh teasing her fingertips.

  “Something wrong, Lola?” Luciano raised a brow, the displeasure on his face evident.

  There was no turning back. She must embrace this new life that would allow her to govern Paradise City with the necessary power and rescue her grandchild. “No. Nothing is wrong.” She forced herself to smile at Hector. “I am pleased you are my first as well.”

  She lifted his wrist, breathing in his luscious scent again, then closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and sank her fangs into him.

  Hector’s only sound was one of pleasure. As blood surged into her mouth, she opened her eyes. Luciano had moved to the edge of the chair. He nodded at her. She closed her eyes and returned to drinking the life spilling out of Hector. Her body seemed to expand with every swallow, the sense of power increasing as her hunger waned.

  Not wanting to disappoint Luciano or harm Hector, she stopped when the urgency to drink narrowed from the raging river it had first been to a small trickle of desire. She pulled her mouth away from his arm reluctantly.

  “You’re done?” Luciano asked.

  “Yes.”

  With a look that said he didn’t quite believe her, Luciano stood. “Very well. You will be hungry again—not just hungry but ravenous—when you wake from daysleep this next week or so. It would be best if you stay here. There are plenty of rooms—”

  “No.” She rose. “I have a city to run. I can’t take up residence in a nightclub. And I can’t sleep during the day.”

  “I have a potion that will shorten the hours of daysleep you require, but I do not think you understand how much you’ll need blood.”

  Hector jumped up. “I’ll go with her.” Uncertainty in his eyes, he paused, his hand clamped over his punctured wrist. “If the mayor wishes.”

  “You cannot just go. A comar’s blood rights are not free.”

  “How much?” Lola asked, suddenly willing to pay whatever it took to keep Hector with her.

  “I must check with Jacqueline. She is our comarré housemother. She keeps their records.”

  Lola rested her hand on Hector’s shoulder. “You know where I live. Send me the bill.”

  Now was not the time to worry about Mal, but Chrysabelle couldn’t help but let a small amount of concern filter through her preparations for the ball. She didn’t like that he’d isolated himself after drinking from her, didn’t like how quiet he’d become. How purposefully distant. She hated it, actually.

  Hated that something had happened and he wasn’t talking about it. But then expecting him to change overnight was a fool’s game. She crossed her arms and returned her focus to what was happening in the hangar.

  The comarré Dominic and Katsumi had captured, the comarré who would provide the blood for Chrysabelle’s disguise, stood huddled near her patron. Chrysabelle felt for the girl, knowing she was an innocent participant in all this. Her patron would provide the blood for Mal’s disguise and the two vampires beside him, the blood for Dominic and Katsumi. Maybe before they returned home, Chrysabelle would give the comarré the chance to go with them.

  Maybe.

  The four hostages were bound with silver-core rope and blindfolded. The silver—and a shot of laudanum when Dominic was finished with them—would keep the vampires from escaping, but the comarré would have to be watched. That job fell to Amery, along with guarding the two planes now parked side by side in the secured hangar. The comarré’s behavior would determine what Chrysabelle offered.

  Dominic came out of his plane, a tray of tools in one hand. Mal followed. Helping Dominic was a great way to keep his distance from her. She spoke to Dominic as he approached. “Do you need me for this?

  “No, Malkolm will assist me. Katsumi is changing. You probably should as well.”

  “All right.” Her gown would take a little time to get into anyway.

  Mal grabbed the first vampire, a female, and held her in place while Dominic picked up the first syringe. Chrysabelle turned away and walked back to the jet. As she stepped inside, the vampiress let out a curse that rattled the hangar walls.

  “Solomon, bring four gags,” Dominic called to the cypher fae he’d brought along. Solomon would get them through achtice’s warded gates, but then he’d return to the protection of the hangar. Cyphers were extraordinarily useful except when it came to fighting. Then they were pretty much helpless.

  Dominic’s pilot, a fringe vamp, would drive them to the estate; then he’d stay outside with the other drivers, keeping to himself and sticking to his story of being a new hire. Once inside the ball, they couldn’t afford a single loose piece in the very complex puzzle they were creating.

  Mortalis would wait in the second car at the end of the tunnels, where hopefully she, Mal, and the vampire baby would end up.

  Chrysabelle retrieved her garment bag from the plane’s storage closet and carried it to the bedroom. There, she stripped down to her underwear, taking off the sheaths that held her wrist daggers and laying them on the bed. Her sacres were currently stored in the front closet where her dress had been. The small Golgotha blade normally tucked in the back of her waistband had stayed home. Going into this ball with only a pair of daggers strapped to her thighs was almost the equivalent of going in unarmed. Two short blades against Tatiana, who could transform her metal hand into any weapon of her choosing, was ludicrous. It meant the only effective fighting Chrysabelle could do was up close. Not really where she wanted to be when dealing with an aged, noble vampire.

  With a resigned sigh, she clipped on the garter belt Nyssa had altered to serve as the sheath for the daggers and aligned it, then attached the stays around her lower thighs and inserted her wrist daggers into place.

  The dress went on next, carefully so as not to damage the delicate lace. For a moment, Chrysabelle wished Velimai and Nyssa were with her, but it passed quickly. She wouldn’t want them in harm’s way. Not that Velimai’s vocals wouldn’t come in handy against Tatiana. Chrysabelle zipped the dress as best she could. Someone would have to finish the job for her.

  She slipped her hands through the slits designed to look like pockets. Her hands connected immediately with the hilts of her daggers, their smooth surface offering some comfort to the anxious prickling running the length of her spine.

  At last, she pulled the sides of her hair back with diamond combs and let the rest of it fall loose. She did a quick turn in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door to make sure everything was okay. Except for not being completely zipped up, she was ready to go. She opened the door and found Mal waiting.

  Her heart caught in her chest at the sight of him wearing the outfit Dominic’s tailor had prepared. From the snowy cravat to the velvet frock coat and soft wool trousers, it was like getting a glimpse of him as he might have been so many centuries ago. Just seeing him dressed as befit his true noble status washed a curious sense of weakness through her. As if he were suddenly some distant, untouchable patron and she, his submissive comarré, awaiting his command. She glanced away and gathered her composure around her like a screen, but he’d already have heard the uptick in her pulse
.

  He shook his head, his gaze running the length of her. “Bloody hell.”

  Her spirits sank and she glanced at him. “You don’t like it?”

  “I like it. I don’t like the thought of other men looking at you in it.” His eyes silvered. “Come here.”

  She did as he asked, the feeling of being possessed by this wicked creature coiling through her in a way that tripped the darkest pleasure centers of her brain. When she stopped before him, she lifted her chin. “You don’t own me, you know.”

  He slipped his hand around her waist and drew her in until the space between them disappeared; then his lids dropped a little lower and he smiled, his mouth closed and assessing. “I’m well aware of who owns who in this relationship.”

  “Then tell me why you’ve been avoiding me since you fed.”

  His smile disappeared. He released her and stepped away, turning so that he no longer faced her. “The voices, the beast… they’re pushing me to kill. To make up for not killing you. It’s like they know I’ve gained the ability to protect you and they want to punish me for that.” He rolled his head to one side, closed his eyes, and sighed. “My head aches with their efforts.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wanting to go to him, but not sure if he would welcome the touch since he’d moved away from her.

  He tilted his head to look at her. “I’ll be okay.”

  “You look very handsome, by the way.”

  His smile deepened and he laughed softly. “I don’t think anyone will be looking at me this evening, but thank you. That dress is really something.”

  She smoothed the skirt. “It was supposed to be my mother’s wedding dress.”

  His brows rose. “Has Dominic seen it yet?”

  “No, but I don’t think he knows that’s what it is.” She held out her hand. “Shall we go?”

  “Wait. I have something for you.” He went to the closet her dress had been in, took his bag off the top shelf, and rummaged through it, finally pulling out a long, cloth-wrapped parcel. He handed it to her. “I want you to have these.”

  She untied the leather cord securing the cloth and unfurled it into her hand, already recognizing the shapes within. When the matched set of daggers fell into her palm, she let out a soft, “Oh.” She set the cloth aside and inspected the weapons. Tiny rose-covered vines curled down the slim blades. Just before the blades met the rosewood hilts, their edge gave away to about an inch of serration, making them deadlier than the daggers she’d planned to use. “They’re beautiful.”

  “More important, they’re as sharp as the devil’s tongue.”

  “I love them. Thank you.” She leaned up and kissed him. “These are from your personal collection?”

  “Yes. They were one of the first pairs I ever… acquired.”

  She frowned, knowing that most likely meant he’d killed their owner.

  “Don’t look so upset. He was a highwayman who attempted to rob the carriage I was traveling in. He killed my driver before he got what he deserved.”

  She tilted the blades so they caught the light. “All that matters is that you wanted me to have something of yours.” She smiled at him. “I like that.”

  “So do I.”

  “Here, hold them while I take the old ones out.” She handed them over, then balanced her foot on one of the seats, pulled her skirt up, and slid the first dagger out. She held her hand out to Mal for the replacement.

  Nothing filled her open palm. She glanced up. Mal was holding the dagger out to her, but his gaze was on her bare leg. She cleared her throat. “A little to the left.”

  “What?” He looked at her and readjusted his aim. “Don’t show that much skin if you don’t want me to look.”

  She slipped the new dagger home. “I never said I didn’t want you to look.” She switched legs and repeated the process, enjoying the ability to turn him into vampire mush. Finally, she adjusted her skirts. “Let’s go find Dominic.”

  He stood to one side and gestured toward the exit. “After you.”

  But as she started by, he caught her and pulled her close to kiss the tender spot below her ear. “Be careful tonight. I will not lose you.”

  She splayed her hands against his chest. “We have the element of surprise, remember? The upper hand.” She gave him a smile she didn’t fully feel. “Tatiana’s the one who should be worried.”

  He didn’t answer, just pushed her gently toward the exit again. She dropped her smile as soon as he was behind her. There was no question death would be woven through the hours that lay ahead of them, only which one of them would be ensnared by it first.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Tatiana looked up as Octavian entered the suite. “The nobles have begun to arrive.” He came to where Tatiana sat rocking Lilith and kissed both their cheeks. He’d been ever so amenable lately. Almost careful. It was enough to make her wonder if he was up to something. “Where’s Daciana?”

  “I imagine breaking in her new comar.”

  “Ah, yes, Lord Syler asked me how that had gone. I assured him everything was fine. I hope that was the case?”

  “It was.” She kept her eyes on him until he seemed uneasy. “What have you been up to?”

  “Up to? Nothing, just making sure this evening will go as smoothly as possible.” He smiled unconvincingly. “Your needs are always my first concern.”

  She raised one brow. “You’re planning something.”

  “What? No.” He swallowed.

  She shook her head. “Don’t lie to me. I can sense it.” She shook her finger at him. “I hate surprises. Hate them. I want no grand gesture this evening, understood? If anything happens outside of what’s been scripted, I will hold you personally accountable.”

  He nodded vigorously. “Yes, absolutely, nothing outside what’s planned.” He exhaled unnecessarily and relaxed a bit. “Back to the subject of comars—have you seen Damian recently?”

  She bounced Lilith lightly, causing her to giggle. “I’ve been sharing Daci’s comar, but I did look in on Damian. His bruises are completely healed. He’ll be in fine shape for the ball.” Especially since she’d taken care of adding a little sedative to his evening meal.

  Octavian nodded. “Excellent. I’ll be sure he’s dressed and ready.” He tapped a finger on the arm of the chair. “Lord Syler also mentioned you’d spoken to him about when you’re to be announced?”

  “I did.” She brushed the soft cotton of Lilith’s day gown. “I don’t want us to enter until the majority of the nobles are here. At least two hours in should do it, don’t you think?”

  He took the chair across from her and wiggled his fingers at Lilith. “Two hours from now they’ll be chomping at the bit to see you.”

  She laughed. “We both know they’re here to see my daughter.”

  He looked at her. “Yes, but I promise you that’s not the only reason. Word of Svetla’s death and the ancient one’s declaration have spread. Besides that, you are the first female Dominus. The nobility know your name but not your face, and with your reputation, they very much want to know who you are. The crowd will be thick this evening. I imagine you’ll be inundated with gifts, offers of assistance… a great number of things I’ll have no control to stop.” He sat back, his eyes worried. “Prepare yourself.”

  “I won’t hold you accountable for those things.” He was definitely planning something. Or had been.

  “Thank you. Still, you and Lilith are my primary concerns. It’s my job to make sure every possibility has been examined.”

  She set Lilith on the floor to play with her blocks. “How is security?”

  “Tight. I’ve walked the perimeters and watched some of the nobility being checked in. No one who doesn’t belong will get through.” He snorted. “Not that anyone will try. Who would be foolish enough to invade a large gathering of powerful vampires? No one I can think of.”

  She nodded, listening but watching Lilith more intently. “That’s very true. I’m sure the comarr
é is busy mourning Malkolm.” She glanced up. “Which reminds me, pay attention to those you speak with tonight. My first project after we return home is to put a team together to go to Paradise City and retrieve the ring of sorrows and the comarré once and for all. I’ve decided I will not set foot in that city again, but with the position and power I now hold, I don’t need to, nor do I wish to be separated from Lilith. I want a good group, ten or twelve strong, loyal nobles who will put this matter to rest for me. We can handpick them from the crowd this evening.”

  “I will pay close attention. I’m sure you’ll have many volunteers.” He offered a hand to Lilith, who was trying to pull herself up using the edge of the small table next to his chair. “There you go, my darling.” He smiled at Tatiana. “Amazing how fast she’s growing. I expect she’ll be talking before long.”

  “I can’t wait for that.” She smiled down at Lilith. “Are you going to talk to Mama, my darling? Can you say Mama, sweetheart? Mama?”

  Lilith laughed and waved bye-bye.

  Octavian stood. “I believe I’ll go make sure Damian is ready, then come back and get dressed myself. That way I can watch Lilith while you’re occupied.”

  “Excellent.” She smiled as he left, then kneeled on the floor beside Lilith. “We are lucky to have Octavian, aren’t we, my sweet? So long as he doesn’t do something foolish.” She kissed Lilith’s fingers, then sat and began stacking the blocks Lilith had been ignoring.

  When they were five high, Lilith clapped her hands, then shoved them down and giggled as they crashed to the ground. Twice more, Tatiana built the tower and twice more, Lilith toppled it.

  Tatiana sat back and tried to ignore the buried remnants of her Roma soul. This was not an omen. Not a sign of things to come. Lilith was just a child and all children liked to destroy things.

  Didn’t they?

  “I can’t believe it’s over.” Fi, freshly showered, sat on the padded table while Barasa did his doctor thing and wrapped her torso into a compression garment. She’d told him a pain shot wasn’t necessary, but he’d insisted. Good thing, too, because the cuts on her face had stung like a mother when he’d cleaned them. Now, though, the meds had kicked in and she barely noticed her cracked ribs anymore. In fact, she felt about as good as she remembered feeling in a long time.