Authors: Kristen Painter
Blood Rights
RIGHTS
S
he was not for him. He knew that, and not just because of the voices, but getting his body to agree was a different matter. Her scent numbed him like good whiskey. Made him feel needy. Reckless. Finding some shred of control, he shadowed her out of the club, away from the mob awaiting entrance, and herded her deep into the alley. He scanned in both directions. Nothing. They hadn’t been followed. He could get her somewhere safe. Not that he knew where that might be.
‘No one saw us leave.’
She backed away, hugging herself beneath her coat. Her chest rose and fell as though she’d run a marathon. Fear soured her sweet perfume. She had to be in some kind of trouble. Why else would she be here without an escort? Without her patron?
‘Trust me, we’re completely alone.’ He reached awkwardly to put his arm around her, the first attempt at comfort he’d made in years.
Quicker than a human eye could track, her arm snapped from under the coat, something dark clutched in her hand. The side of her fist slammed into his chest. Whatever she held pierced him, missing his heart by inches. The voices shrieked, deafening him. Corrosive pain erupted where she made contact.
He froze, immobilized by hellfire scorching his insides. He fell to his knees and collapsed against the damp pavement. Foul water soaked his clothing as he lay there, her fading footfalls drowned out by the howling in his head.
House of Comarré
Blood Rights
Flesh and Blood
Bad Blood
Published by Hachette Digital
ISBN: 978-0-748-12129-8
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Kristen Painter
Copyright © 2009 by Jaye Wells
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.
Hachette Digital
Little, Brown Book Group
100 Victoria Embankment
London, EC4Y 0DY
For Grandma B,
who instilled in me in my early years
the power of a good story well told.
I wish you were here to see this.
In this shall the coming of the end of days be revealed: the light and the dark shall collide, and the covenant shall be broken. Sorrow shall bind the darkness, and he shall devour the light and arise reborn. Then blood and sorrow will be his mistress.
– S
CROLL OF
T
HANICUS
(13, 175–176)
Corvinestri, Romania, 2067
T
he servant trembled in front of the grand fireplace that had never been lit and never would be. ‘The girl … the girl is, well, it seems … that is, we cannot … ’ He bit at his lip.
The gilded mantel clock ticked toward sunrise. Tatiana yawned and rolled her hand through the air. ‘Go on.’
His hands twisted, fingers knotting. ‘We cannot find the comarré, my lady.’
Tatiana’s veins iced and she stilled at the mention of the female blood whore. ‘What do you mean, you cannot find her?’
‘We’ve searched Lord Algernon’s manor, and she isn’t there.’
Tatiana and Lord Ivan had discovered Algernon’s body just that evening, a rather unusual occurrence in a vampire death. Ashes yes, bodies no. ‘How long do you suppose he’s been dead? Not more than a few hours, surely.’
His hands fisted at his sides. ‘We believe two days, perhaps three. We think it happened just after the Century Ball, my lady.
Perhaps that night or the next morning. We have no way of knowing exactly.’
A spark of pain lit her palms. She glanced down at the tiny crescents of blood left by her nails, watched them vanish as she forced herself to relax against the velvet upholstered chair. Algernon’s death meant the Elder position could be hers, but proving herself worthy of that title would require this chit to be brought to justice. The girl
would
be found. Even with a three-day lead, how far could she travel alone and unprotected? She was a simple comarré, bred for her blood and her social skills, little more than the vampire’s equivalent of a geisha. The girl knew nothing of the kine world, just as humans knew nothing of this one. The girl would be simple to find among the kine. Like a sparkling gem in a mud puddle.
‘Search again. Search the grounds as well.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Now. Begone.’ Tatiana leaned her head into her hand. With Algernon’s death, the council would have little choice but to appoint her Elder. Her reign would be a very different one from that old fool’s. She would start with bringing that thin-witted girl before the council. By making an example of her to the other comarré. A dark joy lifted Tatiana’s thoughts. When she was appointed Elder, Algernon’s manor would be hers. Along with all his property in it. Not that she cared for any of his baubles and treasures but one, the one she and Lord Ivan had come to fetch when they’d found Algernon’s body.
At last, the pieces were knitting together. All her work, her meticulous attention to detail, her endless studying of the prophecies, her personal sacrifices … finally, she would wear the mantle of power she’d been stitching these many years.
The taint of her past, the human years spent in poverty and
squalor, those wounds could only be salved by the protection of great power. The ghosts of those who had used her, treated her like rubbish, those ghosts still haunted her, as spectral as the lost loves of her human life. Power could exorcise them, once and for all. She had to believe that. Or go madder still. Her fingers drifted to the locket around her neck.
The scent of kine had not dissipated. She looked up at the servant, dropping her hand from the locket. ‘Why are you still here?’
He shifted from one foot to the other. His head stayed bowed. ‘There is one other thing, my lady.’
Tatiana sighed out the end of her patience. ‘What?’
‘She appears to have taken a few of Lord Algernon’s possessions.’