Out for Blood hoc-4

by Kristen Painter

  His brow furrowed. “You don’t look like the Chrysabelle I remember from the Primoris Domus.”

  “I’m disguised. I have friends with me and we’re here to get you out and bring you back to New Florida with us.”

  He blinked long and slow. “Why would you do that?”

  She wanted to take his hand but refrained. “Because you’re my brother.”

  He rolled his eyes and came around to sit in the chair. “I find it hard to believe you’d do all this out of some sense of comarré obligation.”

  She shook her head. “No, I mean you are genuinely my brother. We are blood relatives.”

  “You can’t know that. Those kinds of records are sealed.” He slumped a little lower, his posture defeated. “I get you think you’re here to help me, but—”

  She stepped into his personal space, her gown brushing his knees. “What is wrong with you? Creek told me about how you helped him get rid of Aliza, but you barely seem capable of killing a fly right now. I can’t believe you ever had the wherewithal to run from Tatiana in the first place.”

  With a full-body sigh, Damian let his head drop back against the chair. “The way I feel lately, I can’t believe I did either. I think she drugged my food this evening. Probably afraid I was going to make a scene at her precious ball. Like I care.”

  “She can’t be drugging you if she’s feeding from you. It would affect her, too.”

  “She’s not feeding from me. Not since her Elder bought a comar a few days ago.”

  Tatiana’s audaciousness made Chrysabelle’s hands long for her blades again. “You are coming with us. No argument.” She pushed enough of her anger down to concentrate on what needed to be done. “Can you manage this?”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re really my sister?”

  “Yes. And I knew our mother.”

  For the first time, a spark of life flared in his eyes. “Knew?”

  “She died at Tatiana’s hands.”

  The spark of life turned to fire. “What do you need me to do?”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Talking to every noble who stopped her made Tatiana’s patience grow thin. She did what was expected of her, answering their questions, thanking them for coming, accepting their compliments and empty words of support, but the result was that it took far too long to reach the noble she’d been watching. She kept glancing at him, but not once did he move or take his gaze from her. Almost as though he waited for her.

  She liked a man who accepted her superiority, but a small bit of disappointment crept into her that he posed no challenge. At last she broke free and waded through the crowd toward him again.

  His size seemed to increase as she advanced, but it pleased her to think she’d soon have the brute at her command, because there was no question that she would woo him to her bidding. Men were all very much the same, vampire or human; they all responded to the proper application of female charm.

  She extended her hand and offered him the smile that had opened more doors for her than her current position of power. “Thank you for coming. I don’t believe we’ve met. I suppose you know who I am.”

  “I suppose I do.” The timbre of his voice was oddly familiar. Perhaps she had spoken to him at another ball. “My… pleasure.” Something flickered in his dark eyes, but his face remained unchanged. After a moment, he finally lifted his hand to take hers. The contact was brief and she barely felt it through the silk of her elbow-length gloves.

  His cool disinterest unnerved her. “And you are?”

  “Lord Moreau. House of Tepes.”

  “So we are family, then. How lovely. Do you live in Corvinestri? I think we would have met if you did.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I spend a great deal of time in Singapore.” He glanced past her and tipped his head toward where Octavian sat on the dais, Lilith on his lap and a crowd of nobles jockeying for his attention. “A daywalker. Interesting.”

  Tatiana acknowledged her family. “Yes. She’s quite remarkable.” The next sentence came out before she could close her mouth. “I fear for her safety, though.”

  Lord Moreau nodded. “And well you should. There are many who would consider her an asset to their own families. Or a threat.”

  That was all the opening she needed. She moved a few centimeters closer and let as much helplessness come into her expression as possible. At least she hoped that’s how it read. Helplessness wasn’t something she did well. “There have been threats already.”

  Interest widened his eyes slightly. “From who?”

  She shook her head as if the whole thing was too terrible for words. “There is a rogue comarré in New Florida. Horrible, horrible creature. She killed the Elder before me, you know, Lord Algernon. Sliced his head clean off.”

  Lord Moreau appeared unmoved. “A comarré killed an Elder?”

  “Yes,” Tatiana insisted. “Then she took up with the most awful anathema vampire, but he’s dead now. Killed by a human, of all things. It’s been on the news.” She smiled. “I’m sure you’ve heard that I lifted the restrictions on electronic communications. Lord Syler is going to do the same for the House of Bathory.”

  Lord Moreau nodded. “And you think she’s going to come after the child? A lone comarré.”

  Tatiana leaned in. “You don’t understand what these creatures are capable of.” Her brows lifted as she looked out into the crowd. “You have a comarré. I saw her. You must be very careful of how close you allow them to get to you.”

  “I will take that under advisement.” He hesitated. “What do you plan to do about this comarré?”

  She smiled. “I’m so glad you asked.” With a conspiratorial glance around, she started. “I’m putting together a team of capable nobles to go after her. A team that, once successful, will be rewarded to the utmost of my power.”

  “You don’t need a team.” He leaned against the enormous birdcage behind him, expanding the space between them. “I can handle it.”

  “I don’t think you understand how devious this comarré is.”

  “I don’t think you understand how capable I am.” His eyes narrowed. “But I work alone. If you want my help, you must promise not to speak to anyone else about this issue until I’ve had my shot. I don’t want a bunch of bumbling nobles getting in my way. Understand?”

  His sudden control of the situation thrilled her. Even Octavian rarely did much more than agree with her these days. “I understand. You have my word.”

  His mouth bent. “Is that any good?”

  “Are you implying I don’t keep my word, Lord Moreau?”

  He straightened and closed the distance between them until little more than a handbreadth separated them. “I’m implying you have a reputation. And not a good one.”

  She pulled back. “No one speaks to me that way.”

  “Maybe they should.” He tipped his head and came imperceptibly closer. “Maybe you need someone around you who isn’t afraid of putting you in your place once in a while. Someone who does more than ask how high when you say jump.”

  His words sent a shiver down her spine and into her belly, igniting a fire that hadn’t burned in centuries. Not since… she forced the memories away. “My consort is the only one I need around me.”

  “Then send him after the comarré.” He turned to go.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his arm. Dense muscle tensed under her hand. “I will give you a chance.”

  Moreau’s eyes narrowed with a look of satisfaction. “Then I’ll take care of the comarré as my gift to you. To prove my loyalty.”

  She mentally shook herself. “That’s very… generous.”

  He laughed softly, his gaze stroking the curves of her body with a familiarity that made her weak. “The only thing that’s going to be generous is how you reward me when I return.”

  Creek drove faster than he should have, but a speeding ticket was the last thing on his mind. For the first time since he’d taken his position as the KM’s ag
ent in Paradise City, he actually felt the desire to do the job for more reasons than providing for his family and keeping himself out of prison.

  The mayor had lost her mind. And so had the vampire who’d turned her. If this was the way all humans thought, that the answers to their problems lay in the undead life everlasting, the world would crumble faster than the KM predicted.

  He skidded to a stop in his grandmother’s driveway, spraying gravel as he killed the engine and hopped off the bike. Martin’s truck was gone.

  Annika walked out onto the porch. “That was fast.”

  He pulled his helmet off. First things first. “How is she?”

  “Resting, but doing well. She’s very strong. Her friend will be back at dusk to stay with her.”

  “Strong is an understatement.” He climbed the steps to stand beside her. “We need to talk.”

  She motioned to the low bench under the front window. He sat at the far end, not waiting for her to join him before he began. “The mayor’s been turned. At her own request, apparently.”

  Annika’s thin brows rose over her shades. “That’s rather inconvenient. The masters will not be happy with that news. Do you know who did it?”

  “A noble.” He shook his head. “Maybe Dominic, but she wasn’t detectable as a vampire. I’ve never run across that, but that’s a Paole power, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. And there aren’t any of them in town.”

  He snorted. “That we know of, but then how could we?”

  She nodded. “If this new vamp is going to start siring children on a regular basis, we’ll need to deal with him.”

  “Understood. What are your thoughts on the mayor?”

  She leaned against the house. “What would you do about her?”

  “I don’t know.” Annika’s question was probably a test. Didn’t make answering it any easier. At least she wasn’t Argent, who would have taken a wrong answer as a personal assault. He leaned his forearms on his knees and listened to the insects drone. He flexed his hands, warping the words inked across his knuckles. “She’s going to drop the curfew, which will be good, but I can’t see the people who voted for her being happy about her sudden change of affairs.”

  “Many will want to follow in her footsteps.” Annika leaned back. “She did it for the power, I assume?”

  He nodded. “And because she thinks it will help her raise her grandchild.”

  Annika snorted. “She’ll never lay hands on that child. I’d sooner give a snake egg to a chicken to hatch.”

  He grunted. “You’ve been hanging around Mr. Hoops too long.”

  One side of her mouth curved up. “I like the people here. I’m not happy Argent died, but I am glad for the promotion.”

  “I can’t say I miss Argent.” He slanted his eyes at her. “You going to say anything about what happened to him?”

  “I have to. But I know how to report his death in a way that leaves you blameless.” She smirked a little. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to get on your grandmother’s bad side.”

  “That’s very… nice of you.”

  Her smile increased. “I’m not so bad.”

  He sat back. “Why did Argent have such a hard-on for making my life miserable?”

  “I’m not allowed to discuss other KM personnel with you.”

  He nodded. “No, I guess you’re not. Sorry.”

  “If I were, I might tell you that Argent couldn’t get past your criminal record.”

  “He knew the circumstances that brought that record about.”

  “And he didn’t care.”

  Creek let that sink in for a long second. “You don’t seem to have a problem with it.”

  Her head dropped like she was looking at her hands. “I understand the importance of family. Of protecting them.”

  “Thanks, by the way.” He canted his head toward the house. “For everything with my grandmother.”

  Annika lifted her head. “If she were a younger woman, I’d try to recruit her.”

  “She’d turn you down.”

  Annika laughed. “Which makes me like her that much more.”

  “So.” Creek took a deep breath. “The mayor. What are the KM statutes on a thing like this?”

  “You know them as well as me,” Annika said. “The moment she endangers human life, she becomes an enemy.”

  It didn’t surprise him that the mayor killing Mal didn’t count. “And until then?”

  “Until then, we wait. And watch.”

  He nodded and stood. “Then I know what I need to do.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  If the rise in his temper was any indication, the ketamine was leaving Doc’s system. At least his office was soundproofed. “How can the marks not be noticeable when she was basically drowned in silver dust?”

  “They were both covered in sand. And now they’re both covered in abrasions from it. There’s very little difference in the marks from the sand and the silver. Plus, with Heaven now permanently in her animal form, they’d have to know what they were looking for to find it under all that fur,” Barasa answered. “The real damage happened internally.”

  “Then what if they do a necropsy?”

  Omur shook his head. “They won’t. Her father might not care enough to pick her body up himself, but I guarantee he won’t want her cut up like that.”

  “You’re still making assumptions. I’ve called São Paulo twice and both times they’ve told me he’s not available. Rodrigo Silva is either too busy to take my calls or he doesn’t recognize me as pride leader. Either way, we could have a problem. I’m not telling him his daughter is dead by leaving him a message.”

  Barasa nodded. “I agree.”

  “You might have to go to him,” Omur said.

  Doc stared at the man. “Are you insane? Talk about walking into the lion’s den.”

  “Jaguar,” Omur corrected.

  Doc pushed to his feet. “Dammit. We have to figure this out before it gets any worse.”

  Someone knocked at the door. Doc glanced at Omur and Barasa, but they clearly had no idea who it was. “Come in,” he called.

  One of the guards opened the door. “There’s a visitor for you—”

  “Move.” A wide, squat beast of a man pushed past the guard. He locked eyes with Doc. “Are you the new pride leader?” he asked in heavily accented English.

  Doc squared his shoulders, prepared for anything at this point. “Yes. And you are?”

  “Rodrigo Silva. I’m here to see my daughter.”

  The minute Tatiana left, Dominic and Katsumi joined Mal.

  “What was that about?” Dominic asked.

  Mal snorted softly. “More insanity. She’s planning to put together a team of loyal nobles to go after Chrysabelle. The best part is Tatiana thinks I’m dead. I guess good news travels fast.” Too bad it’s not true.

  Dominic looked around before speaking. “Things are bad enough with the mayor now. We can’t have a horde of nobles infesting our city.”

  Mal shook his head. “We won’t. I know how to work her. I convinced her that I was the right noble for the job and that she should give me a shot at it before telling anyone else about her plans. It was pretty easy, actually.” His mouth hitched up on one side as memories of his past life with her resurfaced like dead fish. “Same old Shaya.”

  Katsumi made a dismissive noise. “If you’re done reminiscing, can we move on?”

  Mal stifled his anger. “What did you find out?”

  She nodded toward the dais. “The woman who was seated beside Octavian is Daciana.”

  “The one who was in my hold.”

  “Yes. If Tatiana doesn’t have the baby, one of them will or one of only two servants. A wet nurse, Oana, and the head of Tatiana’s staff, Kosmina.”

  “Either of the servants seem like they could be flipped?”

  Dominic shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He looked past Mal. “Carissa is coming.”

  Mal turned to see Chrysabelle a
pproaching. She dipped her head and did a brief curtsy, a show of respect for the eyes around them. “You talked to Damian?”

  As she rose from the curtsy, her disguise couldn’t mask the anger in her eyes. “Yes and he’s on board. She has him drugged. Drugged,” she growled softly. “She doesn’t deserve a comar.”

  Katsumi frowned. “How can she feed off him if he’s drugged?”

  Chrysabelle looked away, checking the crowd. “She’s using Daciana’s comar.”

  Mal wanted to take her hand, reassure her in some way, but in this setting, that wasn’t allowed. Good. “We’re going to get him out of here. It’s going to be okay.”

  She nodded, her jaw tight.

  “How soon?” Dominic asked.

  “Soon,” she answered, repositioning herself so they could all see the dais. “You should get closer to the doors.” She gave Dominic a little smile. “We’ll see you on the other side.”

  “On the other side,” he agreed. “Be safe.”

  Or die. “You too,” Mal said.

  With that, Dominic and Katsumi headed toward the ballroom’s entrance so they could move when the opportunity presented itself. Which it should very soon.

  Chrysabelle stood at his side, nervousness wafting off her in waves, her body stiffly poised as if ready to leap to her brother’s aid, even though they both knew that couldn’t happen. “You’ll be with him soon.”

  Her gaze never left her brother. “I hope so. Otherwise, I—”

  Damian got out of his seat and approached Tatiana, who was deep in conversation with a small group of nobles. He leaned in and interrupted. The crowd noise made hearing the conversation impossible, but the change in Tatiana’s expression from politely interested to obvious displeasure said it all.

  Beside Mal, Chrysabelle’s breath hitched.

  Tatiana glared at Damian, then ignored him and went back to her conversation. He inhaled deeply, then spoke to her again. This time, she backhanded him, splitting his lip.

  Chrysabelle swallowed and a shocked silence rippled out from the nobles around Tatiana, spreading through the crowd as those in attendance turned their heads.