Violet Abyss (A Blushing Death Novel Book 7)

by Suzanne M. Sabol

  She rolled into his arms and, for a moment, forgot about the danger lurking outside.

  Chapter 8

  “Please come in,” the concierge said, moving slightly out of our way as Savannah prowled past the man without a second glance. Ev followed first, in front, and Booker at my back as we stepped across the threshold.

  “Nice,” I whispered as we followed the human down the hallway and into the lush living room. It was strange to categorize people by human and non-human but I had to in order to assess the threat.

  “Mr. Janus will be with you momentarily.”

  “It’s okay, Jeeves, we’re cool waiting here,” Ev said, plopping down on the chenille sofa facing the door. Savannah sat across from Ev on the matching loveseat. I propped myself up against the far wall while Booker took the door. The man dipped his head, and I was pretty sure he wanted to smack the shit out of my werewolf sidekick but managed to keep his cool. Now, that’s a professional.

  “Don’t antagonize the humans,” I snapped, unable to shake the unease churning in my gut and making me twitchy.

  Ev glanced over at me and even I could feel the heat of irritation rippling off me in waves. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he muttered.

  I sighed, letting everything in the pit of my stomach go with the breath. “I know. I don’t know why that bothered me so much.”

  Booker turned his gaze to Savannah lounging across the loveseat as if she owned the place and he rolled his eyes. “Yes, I wonder what could have caused my mistress distress.” His tone was condescending at best. I grinned and fought the urge to grab Gladi and start slicing the woman to bits. I held back though, Dean was mine and no curvy red head would take him from me. He loved me, fiercely and ferociously. I knew that deep down in my soul. He loved me in the same way I loved him. We were friends, lovers, and partners. I knew Savannah didn’t stand a chance which ebbed my instinct to gut her. The furniture was too nice for bloodstains anyway.

  A wash of power prickled across my skin like ice clawing at my flesh. That icy scratch of power was familiar to me. I remembered luminescent green eyes and a Hispanic accent that would make a girl’s knees weak. A tall man stepped into the doorway, his skin a dark almond with a touch of cream and broad shoulders strong and broad. His jet-black hair was slicked back in a 1940’s style that I found strangely alluring. He just oozed sex.

  “Ms. Sabin,” Diego greeted us with a delighted glint in his gaze that seemed suspicious. “I am pleased to see you again.”

  “Mr. Janus,” I said with a quick nod.

  “Diego, please,” he offered, bowing to the entire room.

  “You may know Booker,” I said, indicating the vampire at the door. “And this is Everett, one of my wolves.” Ev, to his credit, rose from the couch and nodded respectfully to Diego Janus.

  Savannah, in all her diplomacy, scoffed openly at my statement.

  I breathed in deeply, trying to remember why I shouldn’t kill her. Patrick had said to be fierce and shed blood but I knew I didn’t want to get mired down in tiger politics. Killing a king or queen always caused problems and I didn’t want to be responsible to solve them. I took another deep breath and relaxed my shoulders as a soft with the realization that I didn’t need to kill her, just ignore her for like 30 minutes. As I let agitation go, a threatening growl reverberated through the room. Opening my eyes, I rested my hand on Ev’s tense shoulder to ease him back down. I was okay. No need for him to get bent out of shape. Sometimes the males around me forgot I could defend myself or maybe it didn’t matter. It was nice to have back up just the same.

  He quieted and glanced at me, his irises shining a murky sea-foam green. “I don’t like her,” he snarled.

  “Neither do I,” I offered so everyone in the room could hear.

  “Liege Janus,” Booker said, either ignoring us or attempting to break the tension. I couldn’t tell. “It is good to see you again.”

  Diego turned his radiant green eyes to Booker and evaluated him, running his gaze over the man in a way that wasn’t sexual but evaluating. “I see you’ve found a home with Cavanaugh. How are you fitting in?”

  “Very well. Thank you,” Booker offered and even I heard the sincerity in his voice. He was happy and that made me happy. “I find I much prefer Columbus to Pittsburgh, for many reasons.”

  “I would say Columbus agrees with all of you,” he said. Scanning the room with a pleasant smile, his gaze finally landed on me with a question hidden in their depths.

  The last time I’d seen Diego Janus, Patrick and I hadn’t been on great terms. At the time, I wasn’t even sure he’d ever want me again. I’d abandoned Patrick, my city, my responsibilities, and for no other reason than my own selfish grief. Patrick and I were in a MUCH better place now. Being kidnapped by an evil Fae Lord and traveling to Fairie to save him, kinda puts things in perspective. I didn’t answer the question in Diego’s glare. It was none of his damned business.

  Diego crossed the room and sat in a large, white wingback chair adjacent to Ev. Two vampires followed him in, flanking their master on either side of the chair. The first, a woman, was large and a bit burly. She had dark hair and ice blue eyes that were vacant like no one was home. The second was a man with the same dark hair and ice blue eyes. My gaze darted back and forth between the two vampires of almost identical height and appearance. Twins! Both watched me with unblinking steadfastness and a wariness that was creepy as hell. I had a flashback to The Shining—a movie I’d watched repeatedly as a child—and the creepy twins in the hallway. A guttural voice echoed in my mind, REDRUM . . . REDRUM. I shivered internally but didn’t let Redrum 1 and Redrum 2 know they’d gotten under my skin. Suddenly, Ev and Booker didn’t seem like enough back up. Don’t ask me why but I had the feeling the Redrum twins pealed the skin from their prey and ate it like licorice with glee. I shook that thought away and refocused on the conversation going on. Anything to keep that picture from taking root in my brain. Yeah, that shit would give me nightmares.

  “It is a very different place,” Booker was saying. “Patrick, the colony, and my mistress are very different from Darshan.” His voice was almost wistful and I completely understood why. Darshan had been a crazy sonovabitch, and too weak to hold his own territory. He’d been propped up by a board member, a dead one. To keep his hold, Darshan had been exceptionally and unnecessarily cruel. He’d also been the vampire to sic Midnight Ash on us. I’d killed them both. Fuck you very much!

  “So, to what do I owe this very distinct pleasure?” Diego said, tenting his fingers before his full lips.

  “We’re here about the dead wolf,” Savannah answered in her thick southern drawl. Her words were short and unfeeling, as if she was put out to be here, which she was. And people said I lacked tact.

  “Is that what it’s like talking to me?” I asked.

  “Nah,” Ev said with a knowing smile. “You’re not nearly that bad.”

  “Oh good, I was worried there for a minute.” I turned to Diego with an apologetic smile on my face. Or the closest I could get to one anyway. Diplomacy. Diplomacy was important. Patrick would be so proud. “What Savannah means, is that we heard about your loss and were hoping to help you uncover what happened. Find out who is responsible.”

  The proud little smile he turned on me, as if I were a child who finally did something right, set my teeth on edge. Diplomacy. Diplomacy. Diplomacy. I kept repeating that mantra over and over again to myself so I wouldn’t kill someone.

  “Thank you,” he replied with a softening of his shoulders. “I would appreciate your assistance. Kyle was my friend. His loss to the Pack and to me was . . . unexpected. The ramifications of this incident are still too new to ascertain.”

  “He was your Pack’s Alpha,” I said, not a question. “Where is the Beta?”

  “He is still back in Texas, comfor
ting Kyle’s mate.”

  “He should remain where he is. Console the mate and the rest of the pack and make sure they understand, he is now in charge,” I said with a firm voice that allowed no argument.

  “I had considered bringing him here, to show that we are not weak in the face of this tragedy,” Diego replied with a clear question in his tone.

  “The politics of your strength or lack thereof is your decision. But, removing the new Alpha could damage the pack irrevocably by the time you return. In-fighting. Challenges. Death. The new Alpha will need to establish his dominance. Taking him away, could spiral the pack out of control.”

  Diego did not respond. He merely waved two fingers toward the door and Redrum 2 left, making me feel a little better at least. One less psycho killer in the room was always okay by me.

  “You’ll seem weak before the Conclave,” Savannah snorted, not bothering to hide her disdain.

  “Wolves, Savannah, are very different from Tigers. I’ll trust someone who actually deals with them to advise me.” Diego’s tone was sharp with an edge that could cut through stone.

  Ev coughed, hiding his snicker. Booker stared straight ahead, as if he hadn’t heard Diego putting Savannah in her place. I gave Diego my best blank expression and asked, “What can you tell us about your dead alpha?”

  “We found him in pieces,” Diego said, his throat tight and voice strained with what I could only assume was anguish. “Nailed to walls and doors with knives. Leading us to the bulk of him on the roof.”

  “Gruesome,” Ev whispered, and I knew his mind had wandered. His vision clouded a bit, no doubt he’d been transported back to Marabelle’s Greco-Roman chamber of horrors where his girlfriend, a human, had been skinned alive as a message to the Vegas pack.

  “A waste,” I said. “Of energy and weapons.”

  “Dangerous too,” Booker offered. “Something like that takes time. The chance of discovery goes up.”

  “True,” I said, glancing from Diego to Booker. “Unless, it’s multiple people working together. Do you remember multiple scents in the area?”

  “There were no scents,” Diego answered.

  “What?” I asked, knowing the disbelief showed on my face.

  “It was clean,” Redrum 1 offered in a flat, emotionless tone. This was just as creepy as her and her twin standing side by side. Was there a person in there? Christ on crutches she gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  “Who checked the site?” I asked, shaking off my inner disquiet as the tendrils of unease crept up my spine.

  “I did, as well as George,” Redrum 1 answered.

  “Who is George?” Ev asked, sitting forward with his hands clasped between his knees. This was Ev’s forte. He was a tracker. His nose was the best I or Dean had ever seen. He’d once tracked me across the Las Vegas strip which any wolf will tell you, is near impossible. Especially with the desert winds, the number of people, and the exhaust fumes, but he’d done it and in his human form.

  “He is one of Kyle’s pack and the highest-ranking wolf here, now that their Alpha is dead.” Again, there was that note of sadness in Diego’s voice and my shoulders tightened with confusion. What had Kyle been to him? A friend? A lover? I’d gotten the impression that Patrick and Dean’s friendship was strange in their world so the idea of Diego mourning Kyle gave me hope.

  “I’d like Ev to take a look.”

  “Whatever for?” Savannah snapped, sitting up abruptly from her lounging perch.

  “Because I do!” The unmistakable Alpha tone in my voice was strong and unyielding. I’d had enough. I wasn’t even sure why she was there other than to piss me off and I was tired of it. “Now,” I enunciated so everyone understood. “Sit down and let the grownups talk.” There was no mistaking the command in my tone or my words.

  Savannah got to her feet with liquid grace that spoke of her feline magic. The growing rumble of her growl reverberated off the marble and something low and primal within me recognized the danger in that sound. The part of me that was Fertiri and The Golden Anidae, surged forward to protect what was theirs. The Blushing Death, however, was just pissed off.

  I squared my shoulders and let the silver of my wolf shine through in my irises, glowing into the space like a beacon. The silver in my fingernails turned to claws, extending beyond the tips of my fingers to razor-sharp points that could slit her throat at my whim.

  “I am Alpha here,” I said and the deep raspy voice that left my throat was more wolf than human but it got my point across. “Sit.”

  She stared at me in wide-eyed wonder, as if she’d never seen anything like me before. To be honest, she hadn’t. But a little fear was good for the soul . . . and the decision-making process.

  “What are you?” Savannah asked, almost in a whisper as she sat slowly back down on the loveseat. In that one movement, whether she realized it or not, the woman had acknowledged my dominance whether. Everyone else in the room knew it too.

  “Dangerous,” Booker answered her question with a smirk.

  “Powerful.” Ev smiled.

  “The Golden Anidae,” Diego whispered as if in benediction. Clearly, if Diego knew about the legends of The Golden Anidae. Kyle and Diego had been closer than just a vampire Liege and the Alpha of a pack. They had shared information, histories, and legends. At the very least, they had been friends.

  “What is that?” Redrum 1 asked as Redrum 2 came back into the room?

  Diego nodded to me to explain but I wanted to see how much he actually knew, how much Kyle had divulged. So I demurred and said, “This is your show.”

  A small smirk quirked up the corner of his full lips and he sat back in his chair. “The wolf packs,” he began, “have a legend of a golden wolf that is not ruled by the moon. A wolf that all wolves kneel before and who can wield silver which is poison to werewolves everywhere.”

  As sum ups went, it was accurate. Concise but on point.

  “She doesn’t smell like a wolf. She smells human but sweeter like licorice,” Savannah said.

  The licorice scent lingering on me was the Fae magic of Baba Yaga. In order to save Patrick from the lunatic Fae lord, Dean and I had traveled to the Outer Realm—a wasteland for banished Fae. Baba Yaga had made sure she’d put her mark on me, combining my own inherent magic with her dark Fae magic. Dean and Patrick had noticed the change in my scent before we’d even made it back to Columbus and now, it was just a part of me.

  “Her scent is much more robust and complex than that,” Ev scoffed.

  “Tigers ambush their prey. They don’t stalk or corral them as wolves do. So, in turn, their noses aren’t as sensitive as yours.” I turned to Diego. “I want Ev to take a look at the scene. I’d also like to see the knives if you still have them.” Having tracked killers before, I knew I would need to see everything. I never knew what little bit of information would put me on the right path.

  “You can have whatever you feel will be helpful,” Diego said, rising to his feet.

  “Good,” I said, stepping forward. “Then let’s get started.”

  Chapter 9

  The knives were a sleek double-edged blade about six inches long from the hilt. Even dirty and covered in blood, the metal gleamed with perfection. There wasn’t a mark or a notch on them. The handle shone with mother of pearl inlay, only the merest of smudges of crimson marred the beauty of the filigree carved into the metal around the mother of pearl. “May I?” I asked, my hand hovering over the one of the blades just itching to touch it.

  “Please.” Diego waved his hand toward the knives laid out on the table like an artifact.

  I gripped one without blood on the handle and tossed it between my right hand and my left. Then I laid the blade across my index finger and let the blade rest there. “This is perfectly balanced. Good craftsmanship. Expensive.” I tossed the bl
ade in the air and caught it, hilt in hand and flipped it again to let the cold steel of the blade rest in my palm. No magic to speak of, it was just a really good knife. And there were three of them. Someone had spent a lot of money on these knives to just throw them away. “Did anyone look into these? Do we know who made them?”

  “There is no insignia,” Redrum 1 offered.

  “These weren’t off the shelf,” I said. “But they could have been made anywhere. Did all three victims have these knives stuck in them?”

  “No, the last was one of Ciro’s vampires,” Savannah said, her voice much more compliant and her shoulders somehow softer around the edges. Whatever she’d seen in my eyes had definitely deflated her ego and I couldn’t be happier.

  “So, no knives,” I mumbled.

  “They left her to the sun. There was nothing left but ash,” Diego said with a sharp edge of disgust or distaste to his words. I couldn’t tell which.

  “How do you know it was the same person or people?” Booker asked, and I was starting to value his presence more and more. Darshan had had an asset in his colony and like everything else, had wasted it for selfish reasons. I was glad Darshan was dead. Hell, I was glad I’d been the one to kill him.

  “The ashes and her jewelry were discovered to identify her but other than that, there was no information to identify the killer.” Savannah’s sultry drawl was quiet, almost respectful.

  “And the first?” I asked.

  “It was one of Trumbolt’s entourage,” Diego offered.

  When I didn’t say anything, Booker whispered in my ear, “Territorial Liege of the Pacific Northwest and California.” His voice was low and even so only I would hear. I nodded slightly to show my appreciation.