House of Comarré Omnibus, page 113
part #0.50 of House of Comarré Series
“Yes, sir.”
Doc locked the door behind him. “Put her on the couch, then tell me again how her being dead is okay with you?”
“It has to do with the gold from the ring of sorrows.” Mal eased her onto the black leather sofa, then kneeled beside her. Where his right sleeve hadn’t been torn by his transformation into the beast, his skin was soaked with her blood, causing the names there to writhe. “When the signumist melted it down, she thought that would erase the ring’s power. It didn’t. Instead the power transferred to her.”
“What kind of power?” Doc stared down at her.
“She didn’t know, but whatever it is, it brought her back to life after the Aurelian ran a sword through her.”
“I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think it’s working.”
“It will.” It had to. Mal brushed hair off her forehead. Her signum sparkled in the overhead lights. “Give it time.”
“Sun’s gonna be up soon. Just how much time are you talking exactly—”
Chrysabelle gasped, her body bowing off the couch as though yanked upward on a thread. She collapsed back down, breathing hard. Her eyes opened, and after a few seconds, she pushed herself up. “What happened?”
Mal sank back onto his heels in relief, but the emotion passed quickly. No way was she getting out of talking about what had happened this time. As sternly as he could manage through the joy of her returning to him, he answered, “You died. Again.”
Chapter Ten
Grigor will come with her.” Tatiana studied the invitation under the desk lamp’s glow. Octavian’s penmanship was beautiful. Too bad it had been wasted on Svetla’s name.
Seated beside her at his desk, Octavian finished the last invitation with a flourish, then looked up. “Let him. He is invited.”
She sighed. “I hate that he is.”
“It would seem odd to invite the Elders without their Dominus as well, don’t you think? And if he comes, we’ll find a way to distract him. Besides, the idea is that we’re bringing the Dominus here for the courtesy of meeting Lilith before the ball. The Elders are just a bonus.”
Tatiana tucked the invite into its envelope and laid it on the desk beside the others. “A brilliant bonus. If this plan works—”
“It will.” He smiled. “I thought of it.”
She swatted him. “Don’t be cocky, my pet. If this works, the rest of the plan must still be perfectly aligned.”
He tugged her onto his lap. “Everything will go off beautifully—you’ll see. Once we have Svetla here, you’ll use your powers of persuasion to plant the seed of kidnapping Lilith in her head. The moment she acts on it, you’ll alert Sam—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t speak his name. We mustn’t call him before we need him.”
He nodded, pressing a kiss to her finger before she removed it. “Forgive me. My excitement got the best of me. You’ll alert him, who will catch Svetla in the act and strike her dead.” He nipped Tatiana’s neck, his pleasure at thinking up such a cunning plan obvious. “There’s no vampire alive who would come against you after hearing about that.”
She rolled the hem of her blouse between her fingers. “I agree, but fitting the pieces of this puzzle together is going to be difficult.”
“You worry too much.” He frowned. “Or are you still concerned about Daciana?”
Unsettled by the reminder, she rested her head against his. “I will be until I hear from her.”
“It’s good that you have this new project to distract you, then.” He held out the four envelopes, each addressed to the other noble houses. “You have messengers waiting?”
“Yes. The House of Rasputin’s will go out today, the others tomorrow. I just hope Svetla’s as eager to see Lilith as I think she’ll be. I’d much rather accomplish this before the others arrive.”
He shifted beneath her, moving so that they faced each other more. “But if the other Dominus and Elders are here to witness the ancient one’s actions, it can only benefit you.”
“True.” She stroked his cheek. “Protecting you from Grigor’s and Svetla’s mind reading isn’t going to be easy. They get one jot of a thought about what’s going on and they’ll kill you without hesitation.”
He patted the breast pocket of his jacket. “I have the potion from Kosmina. She assures me it’s what the kine in St. Petersburg use to keep their masters from knowing their thoughts.”
Tatiana clucked her tongue. “I can’t believe you’re willing to trust your life to a kine.”
“My darling,” he cooed. “If something happened to me because the potion didn’t work, whose wrath would Kosmina face?”
She smiled. “Mine.”
Through the opening of her blouse, he traced the curve of her breast with his finger. “Knowing that, do you think she’d give me something that might fail?”
“No.” When he put it that way, it did seem rather convincing. “How is it you always know what to say to me?”
“Because,” he said, drawing her closer and nuzzling his mouth against her collarbone, “I only want your happiness.”
She unbuttoned her blouse, inviting him in. “You are my happiness. You and Lilith. I cannot imagine my life without either one of you. The words sound odd even to my own ears, but having a child again has changed me. I want you both around me always.”
He pulled back, an unexpected look in his eyes. “Are you implying… No, never mind.” He laughed like he’d made a mistake. “My emotions make me foolish.”
She cupped his face in her hands, keeping his gaze on her. “Am I what? Say it.”
He tried to turn away.
“Say it,” she commanded again.
“Do you… love me?”
She held his gaze for a long moment. She cared for him deeply, but love? She loved Lilith. Did she also love Octavian? Yes, she did. He was her lover, but also her child, sired by her own hand. How could she not love him? “I do.”
He went utterly, completely still.
For a moment, she faltered. Had she misread his affections? Maybe he didn’t feel the same way she did after all. She took her hands from his face and pulled back, instantly assessing how she might retreat with her dignity intact. The first spiny tendrils of anger sprang to life in her belly. “I—”
“I am honored. And unworthy,” he breathed. He laughed, a great boisterous sound of joy. He hugged her tightly, picking her up and twirling her around the room.
“Put me down this instant!” But relief swept through her. She had not made a foolish decision after all.
At their noise, Lilith began to cry from her crib.
Tatiana slapped his chest. “Now look what you’ve done.”
Octavian kissed her firmly, then let her go. “She’s only crying because it took you so long to answer me.” He went to Lilith’s crib and cradled her in his arms before returning to Tatiana. “We make a handsome family, don’t you think?”
“I do.” Tatiana nodded. “Handsome and powerful.” Recognizing him as her consort would give Octavian the most protection she could offer. If anyone harmed him, she’d be able to come after them with no questions asked.
Let the Dominus and their Elders come. She was ready.
Yahla sprawled across Creek’s chest, her rhythmic breathing warming his skin. His right arm curved around her body, his hand splayed on the small of her back, the feathers of her hair soft on his shoulder. His other hand held the charm his grandmother had made. Without it, he’d be dead by now.
He touched the charm to his lips, kissing it and saying a silent thank-you to Mawmaw. Was it wrong to thank your grandmother for making the best sex of your life possible? He stifled a laugh so as not to wake Yahla.
She inhaled a sleepy breath and stretched, stiffening for a moment against him, then melting back down until their curves rejoined. “You are awake?”
“Yes. I slept a little.”
“Did you dream?”
He nodded. “Of you.”
She lifted her head and smiled. “Did you do to me in your dreams what you did to me in your bed?”
“You’re a wicked woman, you know that?”
She turned onto her back so that her head rested on his shoulder. “I am whatever you need me to be, Thomas.” Her fingers drew small circles on his thigh. “Wicked. Willing. Wanton.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I did.” It had been a long damn time since he’d had a night like last night. One that had left him limp and drained of every ounce of built-up need. The only need he had now was Yahla. He wanted her beside him all the time.
“What else do you desire?”
“A simple, peaceful life.” It was true. He’d had enough trouble these last years to never want another problem again. But that wasn’t going to be the way of it as a Kubai Mata.
“You’re thinking of them, aren’t you?”
“Them?” He knew who she meant, just didn’t want to talk about it.
“Don’t pretend with me. The Kubai Mata. Your masters.”
“Don’t call them that.”
She shifted to look at him. The wildness had returned to her eyes. “Why, when that is what they are?”
He pushed up to his elbows. “I’m done discussing this. You know I can’t do anything about it.”
Her smile returned, this time bent and odd. “But I can. And I will.”
He shook his head. “Enough. There’s nothing to discuss.”
The scrape of the metal door being rolled back sounded from downstairs. Creek leaped from the bed and put a finger to his lips for Yahla to keep quiet. He’d locked the door. How had someone picked it without him hearing? He tugged on his jeans and grabbed his crossbow.
No footsteps. Whoever was downstairs was either really quiet or hadn’t come inside. He notched a bolt into the bow and went to the edge of the loft. “Don’t move or you’re dead.”
Argent’s green eyes stared back at him. “I doubt that very much.”
Creek dropped the bow. “Sector Chief. I didn’t realize it was you.”
“Obviously.” The dragon-shifter turned his attention to Creek’s V-Rod, running his fingertips over the gas tank before glancing up again. “If you’re waiting for me to come up there, you’ll be waiting a long time.”
“Yes, sir. Be right down.” He dropped the crossbow onto the bed so he could yank on a T-shirt. Yahla looked less than pleased to be left alone. He held up a finger to say he’d just be a minute. Argent probably just wanted an update. Which wouldn’t take long since there was nothing to tell. Shirt on, he bent, planted a kiss on her calf, and jogged down the steps. “So, what brings you by?” Unexpectedly. His favorite way to be visited.
“Have you spoken to the comarré about recovering the child yet?”
“Yes. She’s not exactly interested in taking that job.”
Argent didn’t seem fazed by the news. Instead, he crouched to examine the bike more closely. “Speak to her again. If she still refuses, kill the anathema. That will persuade her.”
Creek ran a hand over his Mohawk. “I don’t think killing him will have the effect you think it will. Might be better if you gave me more info about the baby. Something to help convince her the child is worth saving.”
Argent blinked the inner eyelids of his half-form. “Need I remind you the comarré still owes us the ring of sorrows? I will not bargain with her. She will do as the KM commands.”
“About that.” Creek planted his hands on the counter behind him and prepared for the worst. “She wants you to know she melted the ring down and used the gold to replace some lost signum. As in she had the gold stitched into her skin.”
Argent jerked like he’d been struck by lightning. Creek had never seen him react that way before. Then the dragon-shifter shot to his feet. “That stupid woman. The KM cannot allow one person to have that much power. Such a deliberate act can only be construed as aggressive and must be—”
“She only did it because she needed the signum replaced. She’s not trying to take over the world, so just relax.”
Quicker than Creek could track, Argent backhanded him, cracking his jaw and snapping his head back. “Know your place, tribe.”
A second later, Yahla dropped down from the loft, landing right behind Argent. Stark naked. Her eyes were the same nonreflective black they’d been earlier. Creek forgot the pain in his face. Call it a hunch, but his gut said things were headed south. She tipped her head at Argent, studying him like a bug on a leaf. “You will not touch him again. Nor will you tell him what to do anymore.”
Argent bristled, but after a quick glance, he ignored her. “Who is this? A whore? If you have needs, fine, but see to them outside your home.”
Hatred twisted Yahla’s face. She opened her mouth much wider than should have been possible and screeched her displeasure. Raven-shaped shadows danced around her. “He is not yours to control any longer.”
Turning, Argent shifted to his half-form, causing bone-spiked wingtips to burst from his shoulders and talons to erupt from his fingers. Creek moved slowly, positioning himself so that he could keep eyes on both of them. Splotches of scales covered Argent’s visible skin, and his slit pupils took on a predatory gleam as bright as Yahla’s were dull. “You’re not human.”
“You do not scare me.” Her head moved in short, jerky increments. “Nothing scares me.”
“No?” Argent inhaled as he curved his body upward, then thrust back, expelling a stream of fire.
“No!” Creek yelled, but he was too late.
The fire engulfed Yahla, and she disappeared in a hiss of flame, leaving a pile of charred feathers behind. Creek stared, unable to take in what had just happened.
Argent regained his human form, smoothing his suit jacket like nothing unusual had just happened. He put his back to her remains. “You have wretched taste in women. There will be no more of that, understood? Now clean that up and get back to work. I want the comarré on a plane to Corvinestri tonight.”
“How can you just kill a woman like that?”
Argent gave him a strange look. “She wasn’t human.”
“And that’s an excuse?”
His brows furrowed. “This conversation is over.”
Catching a small movement, Creek stayed put, his hip anchored to the countertop. He pointed behind Argent. “You might want to turn around.”
The burned feathers lifted into a small tornado, exploding into a swirling, cawing mass of ravens. A few seconds later, Yahla walked out of the midst of them, a few feathers drifting to the floor. Her eyes were dull, black pits. No white. No reflection. Just bottomless holes. She walked toward Argent, spreading her arms like she might take flight. Then she opened her mouth in the same unnaturally wide way she had before.
This time, she inhaled.
A strange shimmery substance floated off Argent and disappeared down her gullet. He seemed frozen as the color left his scales, his hair, his eyes, until he was as washed out as an old photo left in the sun. Yahla closed her mouth and swallowed.
Argent collapsed to the floor.
She stepped over him on her way to Creek. “Now you are free of him.”
Creek pushed away from the counter to crouch beside the sector chief’s lifeless form. He felt the man’s neck. No pulse. “You killed him.”
“I took his soul. He no longer deserved it.”
“Undo it.” Cold panic gnawed at Creek’s belly. The same feeling he’d had when his sentence had been read. “Now.”
“I cannot. Nor would I.”
Sweat stuck Creek’s shirt to his back. “Holy hell. You can’t just kill people. Especially not a Kubai Mata sector chief.”
She stood very close, forcing him to look at her. “You are afraid I have done something bad.”
“You have done something bad. Something that’s going to make you an enemy of the KM. Something that could send me back to prison.” His gut rolled over at the thought of being charged with another murder. He would not go back to prison. “How do you think I’m going to explain this? You think the KM isn’t going to check up on him when he doesn’t report back?”
She leaned over and cupped his face in her hands. The gravity of the situation seemed to fade. She forced him to keep eye contact with her. “I said I would protect you, did I not?”
Those black, murky depths were impossible to look away from. A sense of calm washed through him. His muscles unclenched and he stood, stepping over Argent to get closer to her. “Yes, that’s what you said.”
She smiled, cocking her head abruptly to one side. “Now you must trust me.”
His hands found her hips while his mind forgot the dead shifter on his floor. “I do.” It seemed he always had.
“Good,” she whispered, leaning into him. “I will tell you what we are going to do next.”
And with each word she spoke, his fears drifted away, replaced with little pieces of her will, until Creek no longer understood where she began and he ended.
Chapter Eleven
Lola looked at her watch. Three hours until sundown. All day she’d waited, frustrated by Preacher’s refusal to turn her into a vampire. She didn’t expect him to understand how becoming a vampire would show the human citizens of Paradise City that there was nothing to fear from their othernatural neighbors. Or how being turned would help her demonstrate to the othernatural citizens that she understood their position. Or how both sides would see she was willing to sacrifice for the sake of the city.
But of all people, he should understand how difficult it was going to be for her to fight the creatures who’d kidnapped her grandchild if she didn’t have at least some degree of the ancients’ power. Instead he’d insisted she let him handle things. How could he not understand that if he’d turned her, they could handle things together? She was siding with him, after all, and there was strength in numbers.
A quick knock on the half-open door and Valerie stuck her head into the office. “Madam Mayor?”
Lola set her paperwork aside. “Yes?”
Valerie came in and handed her a slim manila envelope. “Here’s the report you’ve been waiting for. If you don’t need anything else, I’m headed home for the day.”
