House of Comarré Omnibus, page 107
part #0.50 of House of Comarré Series
He snorted in anger as he plodded down the steps from her suite, half agreeing with the voices. As if he had any control over any of those things. He’d no more let her die than she’d let him stop her from doing what she wanted. And now there was a price to pay.
How high a price? Who knew. But having the ring’s power coursing through her had to mean more than just keeping her alive when her life was threatened. That was too simple. He ducked into the hurricane shelter room that had served as his sunproof sanctuary and changed into his T-shirt, jeans, and boots. Power had a way of exacting a price for its use. Tatiana was proof of that. So are you.
He shut the door behind him and headed down the hall and into the kitchen. Velimai, the wysper fae who’d been Chrysabelle’s mother’s assistant, sat at the table with a cup of tea, scanning her e-reader. It was good she’d stayed on after Maris’s death. He didn’t like Chrysabelle being alone in this huge house, and with Velimai’s vampire-killing voice, the fae offered good protection should Tatiana come calling.
Velimai looked up when he came in. She signed something he didn’t understand, then pointed toward the upstairs.
“Yes,” he answered, guessing at what she’d asked. “She’s awake. And hungry. And a little cranky.” Who wouldn’t be around you?
The wysper offered him a wry smile, set her reader down, and headed for the refrigerator. She pulled out a few things, then gave him a questioning look and a nod toward Chrysabelle’s rooms as she went to the counter.
He pulled out a chair and sat, his back to the wall. “She’s in the shower. Should be down shortly.”
Velimai stopped seasoning a steak to give him a good, long look. She slowly mouthed, “You look tired.”
“I am.” Tired of always being at odds with Chrysabelle’s stubbornness. “And frustrated. She doesn’t want to talk about what happened.” He tilted his head back until it touched the wall, then closed his eyes. “Or what’s still happening. Or going to happen, depending on how you look at it.”
Two soft clinks on the tabletop brought his head back down and opened his eyes. Velimai tapped the top of the whiskey bottle she’d put there with a squat glass, then glided back to the range where the grill was heating.
“Thanks.” What he really needed was blood, but that could wait. No, now. He’d had enough practice in delaying his own gratification. Another hour or so meant nothing. He poured a couple centimeters of whiskey into the tumbler and tossed them back. The burn felt good. Substantial. Something he could quantify. Unlike Chrysabelle, who continued to bewilder him. “We’ll have to discuss it sooner or later.”
Velimai nodded. The steak sizzled as she laid it over the grill, the scents of searing, bloody flesh reminding Mal of his human days. A muted whir filled the room as the vent kicked on to suck up the smoke. She put down the tongs she’d been using, came back to the table, scrawled something on an e-tablet, then held it out to him.
She’ll talk when she’s ready. You & I know it’s the ring in her system. Maybe your blood too. But what can you do until she’s ready? Fight with her? No use.
Mal set the e-tablet down and leaned back. “No use is right. I just can’t help but wonder what the final cost of all this is going to be.”
Velimai sighed and went back to the steak.
“The final cost of what is going to be?” Chrysabelle cinched her robe a little tighter as she entered. Her hair was dry. Maybe she’d changed her mind about showering. The look in her eyes said she understood perfectly well what they were talking about.
He didn’t want to fight with her. Do it. But neither did he want to ignore something so critical. Velimai glanced at him, her expression plainly asking him to drop it. But he couldn’t. This was too important. This was Chrysabelle’s life. Her future. “The final cost of what’s going on with you. With the ring’s power in your system.”
“The ring’s power was destroyed when Atticus melted it down. I told you I’m fine. If you can’t accept that, maybe you should go.”
He canted his head to one side, trying to quell his building frustration. “Chrysabelle, don’t be—”
“It’s my house,” she said quietly. “I’ll be whatever I want to be, understood?”
He rose, thankful there was no sun in the sky to keep him captive here. “Let me know when you’re ready to be someone who wants to face reality, because if you think the ring’s power and my blood in your system aren’t somehow responsible for you still being alive, you’re wrong. And we need to figure out what else it means before something new happens. Tatiana’s still out there. The first sign of weakness in you and she’ll exploit it. You think she won’t?”
Her face went slightly ashen. “You don’t want me to have a moment’s peace, do you?”
“Of course I do.” He tried not to growl in frustration but failed. “I just want to figure this out. To help you.” Help yourself. Bite her. Drain her.
She crossed her arms like a shield against him. “Yes, I know how you help. Like the time you followed me to the Aurelian. And the time you put your blood into me to save my life. Your help is never really that helpful, is it?”
He came closer, staring down at her maddening glow. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
“Yes. And I’m tired of the air smelling like vampire.” She turned away. “Go home, Mal. When I’m ready, I’ll come find you.”
Every cell in his body ached to fire back, but he stayed silent despite the voices trying to pry his jaws open. He stalked out of the house and slammed the door behind him. The voices raged like drunken carnival revelers.
Maybe the voices were right. Maybe it was time to let Chrysabelle go. Let her deal with her life on her own.
If only he could get his heart to agree.
Chapter Two
Corvinestri, Romania, 2067
She is the most remarkable child, isn’t she?” Tatiana gazed into the perfect face of her daughter, Lilith.
The kine doctor swallowed and glanced at Octavian, who sat in one of the nursery’s rocking chairs. “Yes, she is… exceptional. If you wish, I could test a sample of her blood, make sure she carries no human defects.”
“Defects?” Tatiana scowled. “What is that supposed to mean? The only spot on her is the birthmark on her hip.” She pulled down Lilith’s pantaloons enough to show off the perfect crescent moon shape.
The doctor inhaled and took a step back. “Nothing untoward, I promise you. It’s just that human children are immunized against human diseases. We have no way of knowing if Lilith needs these things or not.” He smoothed the pockets of his white coat. “I meant no disrespect of any kind. Clearly she is a… superior being.”
Tatiana kept her gaze on him, narrowing her eyes slightly and saying nothing until he squirmed a little more. Kine were so easy to control. “No blood tests.”
“My love,” Octavian said. “The tests might not be such a bad idea. We want the best for her. That includes the best care. You don’t know what she might have picked up from her mother.”
Tatiana turned toward the vampire who’d become inseparable from her since his recent turning. She’d come to rely on him far more than she’d ever relied on anyone else. It unnerved her, but she chose not to dwell on it. “You think she could be in danger from a human illness?”
He shrugged and pushed out of the rocker to stand beside her. He stroked his finger down Lilith’s pink cheek, his eyes sparking silver. “We don’t want to take any chances with our precious girl, do we?”
If only Tatiana’s own father had cared so much about his daughter. Lilith wasn’t even Octavian’s blood. “No,” she said softly, drinking in the fatherly affection he displayed toward her adopted child. “Only the best for her.”
Octavian smiled and gave her a wink. “Only the best for both of you.”
The doctor visibly relaxed. “So you would like to proceed with the tests?”
Octavian nodded, his face suddenly stern. “Harm this child in any way and I’ll kill you myself.”
“Yes, my lord.” The doctor paled. “I’ll just get my bag.” He shuffled away to rummage through his things.
Octavian guided Tatiana toward the divan. “Sit. You’ll both be more comfortable.” She did and he sat beside her. “Any word from Lord Edwin on this ball the House of Bathory is giving in your honor?”
She shook her head, unable to keep a slight smile off her lips. “You’re trying to distract me.”
He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Is it working?”
“Maybe.” She shifted Lilith from her arms to her lap. “He sent word earlier. I meant to tell you. The ball is a week from today. At Lord Syler’s mansion in achtice.”
Octavian wrinkled his nose. “Slovakia? Can’t say as I find that appealing.”
She laughed. “You’re such a snob. It’s lovely, I assure you. And in hosting this ball, Syler confirms his alliance with the House of Tepes.”
“Yes, but it means we have to travel.” His gaze lit upon Lilith. “We must be heavily guarded. Every precaution taken.”
A subtle throat clearing interrupted their conversation. The doctor stood before them, syringe in hand. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Tatiana took a voluntary breath. “I want to know everything you’re going to do before you do it.”
“Of course, my lady. I’m simply going to do a heel stick and extract the blood from there. I doubt the child will like it, but in one so young, it’s the best way.”
“Very well.” She moved the blanket swaddling Lilith so that her little feet were exposed.
The doctor pulled a nearby chair closer and sat, then swabbed Lilith’s heel with antiseptic. “Keep her still as best you can.” He held her foot in his fingers and slid the needle in.
Lilith’s eyes flew open and a piercing wail erupted from her throat. The doctor winced. Tatiana raised her hand to shove him off her child, but Octavian caught her wrist before she could strike.
“What are you—”
“This must be done.” He shook his head, eyes bracketed with concern. “It hurts me to hear her cry, too, but it’s for the best.”
“For the best,” the doctor reiterated. “Almost done. There now.” He slid the needle out and twisted a cap over it to seal the vial. “There, there.” He patted Lilith’s stomach.
She caught his finger in her tiny, flailing fist and latched on. The doctor smiled. She brought his finger to her mouth and began to suck on it.
“She’s just hungry,” he said. “That’s all—What the…” He tried to yank his hand away, but Lilith held fast. He cursed. “She’s bitten me. The little beast has her teeth in me!”
Octavian leaped up. “How dare you!”
“Beast?” Tatiana snarled as her face shifted and her fangs descended. She clamped her hand over the doctor’s arm, holding him in place. “You took her blood. Now she’ll take some of yours.” She pulled him closer so she could aim her silver gaze into his mud-brown kine eyes. “Apologize for calling her such a horrible name or you’ll pay with more than blood.”
The doctor trembled, his eyes flicking from Tatiana to Lilith to Octavian. “I… I apologize for my disrespectful comment. It will not happen again.”
Tatiana tightened her grip, causing the doctor to whimper as his bones ground together. “You’re lucky to still be alive, kine.”
Octavian snorted in agreement.
“Yes, my lady.” The doctor nodded, doing his best to get as far away as he could while in her grasp.
A popping sound announced the release of his finger from Lilith’s mouth. Blood trickled from two red pinpoints on the pad of his index finger.
Tatiana released him as well. “Go now while you still can. I want those results immediately.”
The doctor gathered his things with great haste, depositing the vial of blood into his waistcoat pocket. “Of course, my lady.”
Octavian kissed her cheek. “To make sure that’s all he does with her blood, I’ll accompany him back to the lab and stay until the tests are completed.”
She nodded. “A wise decision.”
He took the doctor by the elbow and began to escort him out. “And don’t think I won’t kill you if you make one false move.”
Tatiana curled Lilith into her arms and rested farther back into the divan’s depths, comforted by the knowledge that she was no longer the only one with her child’s best interests at heart.
Everglades, New Florida
Creek notched the kickstand down on his V-Rod and hopped off his bike. The last time he’d been out to his grandmother’s had been in a last-ditch effort to keep Chrysabelle from bleeding out after having her signum stripped off her back. As a tribe healer, his grandmother had known what to do, but Mal hadn’t liked it. Neither had Chrysabelle.
This time, Creek was the one who needed help.
He climbed the steps of the small, wood-paneled house to knock on her door. Not that there was a need to announce himself with Pip around. His grandmother’s fifty-pound mutt barked like the house was on fire anytime a person, vehicle, or gator got within a few yards of the place. “Pip, settle down. Mawmaw, it’s me, Tommy.”
One last bark and the door opened. “Shush, Pip, you’ll wake the dead.” Rosa Mae Jumper peered up at Creek through the thick lenses of her glasses. “I know who it is.” She smiled and held her arms out to him. “Come here, child.”
He gave Pip a quick head rub, then bent to embrace her, inhaling the soft violet scent of the homemade sweet acacia perfume she wore. “How are you, Mawmaw?”
“Just fine.” She let him go only to take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. The aroma of browned meat greeted him, making his stomach grumble. “I’ve got a venison roast in the oven. Sit down and you can eat supper with me.”
“A whole roast? I thought Mom was still on night shift.” The table was set for two. “You and Pip eating formal tonight?”
Without looking at him, she tsked. “Foolish boy, that setting’s for you. I knew you were coming. Don’t I always?”
Yes, she did. He smiled and took a seat at the kitchen table while she went to the oven. Mawmaw knew all kinds of things that most people never had a clue about. He hadn’t planned on eating here, but she’d be more amenable if he did. Plus, eating her cooking was no hardship after his years of prison food. Damn, he was glad the KM had gotten him out of there, even if they did hold it over his head like a thousand-pound weight.
While they ate, he got her to tell stories from his childhood and managed to keep the conversation to lighter topics, but the way she looked at him said she wasn’t that easily fooled. At last she cleared the plates, set a pan of scraps down for Pip, and motioned for Creek to join her on the back porch. He took the rocker next to her, the paint worn off the seat and arms from use. She lit a cigarette and offered him one.
He shook his head. “Those’ll kill you, you know.”
She inhaled long and slow before letting out three perfect smoke rings. “So will those damned blood eaters you chase after.”
He laughed softly. No hiding anything from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sure you don’t. Just like I don’t feel the air of power coming off you.” She took another puff. “Nice of you to visit.”
In other words, get on with it. “I need your help, Mawmaw.”
“You tired of working for those people?”
He shifted. The way his grandmother sensed things… “Those people got me out of jail. Paid Una’s tuition.” Kept his sister, Mawmaw, and his mother safe, too.
“You didn’t answer the question.”
He sighed and watched a red hawk float on a thermal. “Sometimes, yes, I am bone-tired of working for them, but a deal’s a deal.”
“Uh-huh.”
Time to change the subject. “I need a charm made.”
Pip came out licking his chops and flopped at Mawmaw’s feet with a contented sigh. She stared out at the swamp that made up her backyard. “What kind of charm?”
He dug into his shirt pocket, extracted the three black feathers he’d been given, and held them out to her. “This kind.”
Pip lifted his head and gave a short, growling bark.
Rosa stopped rocking. The ash on her cigarette grew a little longer while she studied his offering. At last, she tapped the ash off and set the cigarette into a coffee cup filled with a little sand. “I don’t know what all you’re involved with these days, Thomas, but that’s nothing for you to play with.”
“I’m not playing. I need the protection.”
“You need to leave that woman alone.”
“It’s too late for that now.”
She turned enough to see his eyes. “It’s never too late.”
He stared at the words HOLD FAST tattooed across his knuckles. “It is. I saved her life. She’s sworn to protect me now.”
His grandmother dropped her head as if praying, her eyes squeezed tightly closed for a moment, and she sighed hard. When she raised her head, Creek swore there were tears in her eyes. She held out her hand. “These are from her?”
He gave her the feathers. “Yes.”
She turned them over in her fingers. “This is dark magic, child. And dark magic can’t be trusted. It’s fickle. Like a woman.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here. She told me to come to you.”
All expression vanished from her face as she looked up at him. “Did she call me by name?”
“No,” he reassured her. “She didn’t say your name.”
Relief lit her eyes. “Maybe she truly doesn’t mean any harm, then.” She turned the feathers over again, looking for what he didn’t know. “They feel… false.”
“They’re real. I saw her pull them from her hair.”
“Not what I meant.” She frowned. “I’ll make the charm. You’re going to need it if what you’ve told me is true.”
“It is. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She gave him a sideways look. “But you’d step over the truth if you had to.”
