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Authors: Kristen Painter

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BOOK: Bad Blood
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Another brilliant burst of fire and flame and Samael vanished. The faces of the other Dominus were pricelessly stunned, a mix of open mouths and incredulous gazes. Tatiana lifted her chin and snapped her fingers to get their attention. “Have the driver bring my car around. I’ll be taking the Dominus’s jet. I expect it to be fueled. Svetla, be a dear and fetch my fur, will you?”

The council and their Elders sat staring.

With nary a trace of humanity upon her face, Tatiana bellowed, “Now!”

At last, the old men jumped to their feet to do her bid
ding. Grigor sent Svetla scurrying out. Smiling, Tatiana went to collect Daci and return home. Well, Tatiana would be returning home in the plane she arrived on to await the Castus. Daci would be taking the Dominus’s supersonic jet straight back to Paradise City to capture Chrysabelle and bring her back for real.

The reign of the House of Tepes had finally begun.

Velimai answered the door at Chrysabelle’s, her eyes shifting to Havoc with a question. Creek appreciated that she had let them onto the property without knowing more, until he saw Doc and the comar behind her, both with weapons aimed in their direction. Fi peeked around from the entrance into the living room.

“This is John Havoc, wolf varcolai. He’s the head of security for the mayor. He’s cool. Havoc, Velimai here basically runs the house. She’s a—”

“Wysper.” Havoc signed something.

Velimai returned a few new signs, then Havoc responded, to which she laughed her soundless laugh. She glanced back at the two men and nodded. Creek made a mental note to ask Havoc what he’d said later. Doc sheathed the dagger in his hand and stepped aside. “What’s up?”

They entered and Creek made a quick intro as Velimai shut the door. “Havoc, this is Doc. He’s the leopard-shifter I was telling you about.”

Havoc stuck his hand out. “Good to meet you. Creek speaks highly of you.”

“Does he.” Doc shook Havoc’s hand, but his gaze stayed a long moment on Creek before returning to Havoc.
Doc tipped his head toward the comar. “Damian is Tatiana’s former comar.”

Havoc pushed his shades onto his head. “Tatiana’s the vampire after Chrysabelle, right?”

“That’s the one.” Creek jerked his head at Damian. “Where’s the comarré who was with you in the guesthouse?”

Damian snorted. “Long story.”

“For another time,” Doc added. “Let’s just say she had other plans than hanging out here. What brings you two here?”

“First of all, another of Dominic’s comarré has turned up dead.”

“That explains the cops at Seven,” Fi said, coming to stand beside Doc. “What’s second?”

“The mayor knows Julia had a baby right before she was murdered. She also knows the baby isn’t fully human. She wants the kid brought to her.” Creek sighed. “I’m not going to rip the kid out of the father’s hands, but I figure we should at least check and see if this vampire is taking care of the baby or what.”

“Or what,” Doc answered. “Preacher doesn’t have the baby anymore.”

“How do you know?”

Fi crossed her arms. Her jaw tensed and for a split second, she flickered transparent. To Creek, it looked like her throat was torn out, but the image disappeared as quickly as it had come. He knew Mal had killed her. Maybe that was how he’d done it. Poor kid.

Doc slung his big arm over Fi’s shoulders. “Because under a spell controlled by the witch’s daughter, I took the baby from Preacher and delivered it to her. But don’t
bother thinking you’re going to rescue the kid. There was a fight and Evie got killed by her own magic. The Castus got loose and grabbed the baby. Before it could finish me off, it disappeared.”

“Castus?” Havoc asked.

“Remember the thing that attacked me right after I found Julia’s body?” Creek nodded. “It’s that.”

Havoc swore under his breath.

“You can say that again,” Damian added. “If the witches had it contained in the first place, they must be pretty knowledgeable. It takes strong blood magic to call one of the ancient ones. More blood to hold it.”

It was Doc’s turn to swear. “They had Mal’s blood. I can’t imagine blood more powerful than his.” He pulled Fi a little closer. “This city’s going to get seriously weird come midnight, and we have no idea if Mal and Chrysabelle will be back before then. Best thing we can do now is prepare for tonight.”

“Good idea.” Creek turned to Havoc. “You’ve got to convince the mayor that all Halloween-related activities need to be canceled citywide. No parade, no trick-or-treating, no parties, nothing. I don’t care if she has to make up a bomb threat. She’s got to keep people in their homes.”

Havoc shook his head. “That’s a tall order. I’ll do what I can. What do you want me to tell her about her grandchild?”

“Tell her the truth. The child is gone, beyond our reach. There’s no point in keeping anything from her.” Creek pointed to Doc. “You feel secure here?”

“Not after the hit we took last night, but it’s better than Mal’s.”

Creek would find out more about that later. “What about Seven?”

Doc’s eyes narrowed. “What about it?”

“It’s probably the most secure place you could be considering what could go down tonight.”

“Not a chance in hell I’m going there or that Dominic’s going to let us in.”

Damian nodded. “Fi and I went to see him earlier and he refused us. I say we stay here. We’re armed and we’re formidable enough in our own right. As long as we stay inside, we’re fine.”

“You’re sure?”

Doc glanced at the others around him. “Positive.”

“All right, then.”

“What about you?” Fi asked.

Creek planted his feet. “I’m staying here with you. If Tatiana’s still in the city, you can believe she’s going to take advantage of tonight.” Creek glanced at the front door. “She’ll be back.”

Chapter Twenty-three

A
mery parked them on a side street in the business district. Mal waited while Chrysabelle scanned the information Loudreux had given her one more time. Mortalis sat in the seat in front of Mal, staring straight ahead. Since they’d left Loudreux’s, the fae had practically shimmered with anger but had yet to say a word. Sooner or later, it would come out and when it did, Mal knew from experience it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Maybe he’ll kill you.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” Chrysabelle folded the paper and tucked it back inside the envelope. Frustration tensed her pretty face. “What reason would this guardian have for stepping aside? He’s apparently living a pretty high life. I can’t offer him anything better. And I’m not killing him. I’m not a murderer.” Her hands balled into fists, the signum glinting. “I just want my ring back.”

“I’m sorry,” Mortalis muttered. “If I had any idea that Hugo was going to do this—”

“Enough, Mortalis,” Chrysabelle interrupted him. “What’s done is done. Loudreux’s machinations are solely his responsibility.”

Mal rested his hand over hers. “I need to speak to you alone.”

“You have an idea?”

He flicked his gaze to the front seats, then back to her. “Alone.”

“All right. Let’s take a walk down this alley.” She looked at Mortalis. “We’ll be back shortly.”

He grunted a reply.

Mal got out, held the door for her, then shut it behind her. She winced as she got out, the tightening of her body so subtle that if he had blinked, he would have missed it. She was hurting, but if she wasn’t going to acknowledge it, neither was he. They walked to the middle of the alley in silence. She checked both sides, then turned to him, her gaze dancing across his face as though she’d never seen him before.

“What?”

She smiled. “It’s strange to see you with sun on your face. Good strange.”

“Likewise.” He reached up and ran his fingers over a sleek blond strand hanging past her cheek. Artificial light lit her signum up, but daylight gave her an almost otherworldly glow. He understood why people looked at her. It was hard not to stare with a gaping mouth and a dumbstruck tongue. Her eyes really did match the sky’s ethereal blue. He swallowed and opened his fingers, letting the hair loose. “You shine like… the sun itself.” Damn, he was an idiot with words around her.
No, just an idiot.

“If you’re trying to sweet-talk me, you might want to save it for when we get home.” But her smile didn’t disappear. And now the faintest hint of pink colored her cheeks. Was she blushing? This woman? At least she hadn’t slapped his hand away.
Or staked you.

“So.” She blinked and looked back at the car. “What’s your idea, because I know you must have something cooking in that head of yours. Don’t say you’ll kill him either. That’s not an option we’re taking.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep from touching her more. “I can persuade him to give up the position.”

“Persuade? As in use your power?” She shook her head. “I know you can do that with varcolai, but that doesn’t mean you can do it with fae. Their magic is completely different. You try that and fail and no bribe is going to protect you.”

“I can do it. I’ve done it already. With the smokesingers that stopped me on my way to meet you. There’s just one thing.”

“Always a catch, isn’t there?” Her eyes narrowed a little. “What is it?”

“Persuading a fae to tell me his name is one thing, persuading one into giving up a position of power is utterly different. It will take a lot of work and leave me drained afterward. I’ll need to feed.” Why he felt like he needed to justify his request boggled him. He was a vampire, she was a comarré. It was no secret to either of them how this worked. There was, of course, the complication of him not being able to drink from her vein and the extracurricular contact that necessitated. The hot, mouth-to-mouth extracurricular contact. Which she’d denied him earlier. He blew out a breath to keep a growl from leaving his throat.
Drain her.

“Blood is easy.” If she was thinking about the kiss that would come after, he couldn’t read it in her eyes. “How are you—we—going to explain your weakness to Mortalis after seeing this guardian? He’ll know something’s up.”

“Will it matter if we succeed?” His entire body tightened knowing that she was so willing to give her blood to him again. The voices whined with fear and excitement. They loved her blood but hated the way it calmed them. “I’m not worried about Mortalis. If he finds out what I can do, so be it, but Amery…” Mal shook his head. “I don’t know him, don’t trust him. I don’t even like you knowing.”

She scowled. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you implicitly. I don’t like burdening you with information about what I can and can’t do. I don’t like the possibility that someone could use it against you someday.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not a burden, and I can take care of myself.” She turned toward the SUV. “We should get a hotel room. I can drain blood there and we can ditch Amery. Maybe Mortalis, too. I can tell him I want to make the first attempt alone with you to guard me, that I want him out of it so if something goes wrong, none of the blame falls back on him.”

Mal checked the sun’s position. “We’re not going to make it back to Paradise City in time for Samhain.”

“We might, but it doesn’t look good. I hope Doc and Creek can keep everything under control.” She exhaled hard. “This is so much more than I can handle.”

“No, it’s not. You’re doing great.”

She glanced back at him and smiled weakly, her signum sparking in the sun. “Don’t read too much into this, but it helps that you’re here.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I won’t read anything more into that than face value. Wouldn’t want to assume you like me or anything.” But she did.
Right now.

She laughed. “Good, glad that’s all clear.” Her laugh
ter faded and she went serious. “What do you think is up with Mortalis and his sister?”

Mal lifted his brows and shrugged. “Bad blood, that much is certain. Whatever his family’s history in this town, it isn’t good. At least not where it concerns him.”

“He seems wound pretty tightly since we left Loudreux’s.”

Mal nodded. “He’ll be all right.” He hoped. Having the fae blow a gasket was only going to complicate an already tangled situation.

Chrysabelle’s fingers landed lightly on his arm. Beneath the sleeve of his coat, the names writhed at her touch. “Let’s go get that hotel room and get you fed, shall we? The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner we can get home to clean up the next mess.”

BOOK: Bad Blood
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