Out for Blood hoc-4 Page 4

  “Hmph. I wouldn’t count on that. Pride marriages among the ruling class are pretty old school from what Doc’s explained to me. Sinjin didn’t marry for love. He married for alliance. This woman’s father is the leader of one of the biggest prides in existence. Riling her up would be a very bad thing.”

  Chrysabelle looped her arm around Fi’s shoulders. “There has to be a way to work this out.”

  Fi shrugged, conveying about as much positive energy as a burned out match. “Whatever.” She glanced up at Chrysabelle. “So what’s going on with you? Doc and I came by to see you, but you were out cold and Mal didn’t want to hear about anything. All he could do was focus on you. He’s into you pretty hard. Like you don’t know that.” Suddenly her face brightened. “Did he tell you how he feels? Is that why you kicked him out?”

  “No, that’s not why. I kicked him out because he wanted to talk about something I didn’t. But now I know he was probably right, even if his timing sucked.”

  Fi nodded as she stopped and opened a door. “You want a cup of tea?” She stepped over the threshold and flipped on the solars, illuminating the galley.

  “Sure. Might as well hang out and wait for Mal.” The last time she’d been in this kitchen, she hadn’t even really known who Mal was. That felt like years ago.

  “You can always go relieve Damian for a bit if you want. I’m sure he’d appreciate the break.”

  “Mal told me he was here. Relieve him from what?”

  Fi filled the teakettle. “He’s guarding that vampiress who defected from Tatiana. Darciana or Dulciana or something.”

  A chill settled in Chrysabelle’s gut as she took a seat. “Daciana?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s her name. We’ve got her locked up in one of the storage containers in the far hold.” Fi lit a Sterno pot and set the kettle over it. “You know her?”

  “Yes, but her husband is the one you have to watch out for. He’s very ambitious. Like a male version of Tatiana.”

  Fi leaned against the counter. “According to Daciana, Tatiana killed her husband. That’s one of the reasons she wants asylum.”

  Chrysabelle narrowed her eyes. “I don’t buy it.”

  “Me neither.” The ghost girl smiled. “You want to go talk to her?”

  “I don’t think—”

  “You know, she showed up on your doorstep.” Fi waggled her brows. “Wanted us to let her into your house.”

  Chrysabelle’s fingers stroked the leather crisscross of her sacre straps. “Did she now.” Annoyance pushed her to her feet. “Couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions, could it?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.” Fi capped the Sterno. “What if she refuses to answer you straight up?”

  Chrysabelle flicked one wrist blade out. “I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.”

  Chapter Five

  The rabble split with appropriate respect as Mal shoved his way through the crowd outside Seven. Fools. Wearing his noble face no doubt helped, but the crowd’s respect meant nothing. He was on a mission. Finding a new blood source was the first step in distancing himself from Chrysabelle. Blood blood blood. Loosening her hold on his hunger would make it easier to need her less. Might even help him forget what being next to her in bed had felt like. He hoped.

  The fringe working the velvet ropes outside the door held a hand up. “Cover’s a buck fifty.”

  “A hundred and fifty dollars? Dominic’s lost his mind.”

  The fringe shrugged. “It’s Friday, my brother. All the freaks wanna play, and for that, you gotta pay.”

  “I am not your brother.” One of the two hulking varcolai bouncers behind the fringe snickered. Mal glanced up, wishing for the old days when Seven’s entrance was a dimly lit doorway with easy-to-glamour guards. Easy for him anyway. No other Tepes vampire he knew could use their persuasion power on varcolai or fae.

  “Not technically, but we are both vampires—”

  “Whatever.” Mal pushed past. “Dominic owes me. You want my cover charge, get it from him.” Dominic did owe him, although Dominic might not see it that way. Mal’s blood had taken the place of Dominic’s with the witches. That had to be worth something. Or nothing. Just like you.

  Wisely, the varcolai bouncers let him pass. Maybe they knew who he was or maybe they knew Mal’s relationship to Doc. Either way, he entered without further obstruction. Once inside, he quickly found Katsumi. He would have rather found Mortalis, but the shadeux fae didn’t seem to be around.

  She arched a brow at him. “Please tell me you’ve come to take on a few new opponents in the Pits.”

  “Like hell. Where’s Dominic? I need to talk to him.”

  “In his office.” She sidled closer, her jasmine scent creeping over him. “But maybe I can help you.” One black polished fingernail glided down his arm. “What do you need?”

  Blood. “For you to back off.” He walked away, shaking his head. Maybe the side effects of navitas had begun to set in. Being resired was known to cause insanity. Tatiana was proof of that. Katsumi seemed to be sliding in that direction.

  Someone grabbed his sleeve. He spun, instantly defensive. “I told you—”

  A petite blonde, one of Dominic’s comarré, dropped her hand from his arm and bent her head. “I’m sorry to upset you, master. I saw you talking with Ms. Tanaka. I thought you wanted company.”

  “Don’t call me master,” he snapped.

  The girl cringed and backed away. Her signum, such as they were, gleamed dully in the club’s low lights. “My apologies for—”

  “Stop.” Mal sighed. Bloody hell, he was a monster. Yes, you are. “I didn’t mean to… When you first grabbed my arm, I thought you were Katsumi.”

  The girl lifted her head. She wasn’t unattractive, but she was no Chrysabelle. “You’re a friend of Ms. Tanaka’s? I see that you’re noble like her.”

  He exhaled derisively. “I was noble before her grandparents were born.”

  “Of course, sir.” She nodded, her long blonde curls swaying. “Are you in need of blood?”

  Yessss… drink drink drink. “Yes, but I need to speak to Dominic first.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. They weren’t as blue as Chrysabelle’s. “I can take you to Mr. Scarnato, if you’d like.”

  “I can find my own way there.”

  Her head dropped again. “As you wish. Have a pleasant evening.” She curtseyed and began to leave.

  The voices whined at the loss of the blood, cursing him in every language they spoke. “What’s your name?”

  She looked up, hope brightening her face. “Alice.”

  He bent slightly, peered into her eyes, and added a touch of persuasion to his voice. “Go home, Alice. Forget this place exists. Go back to school and do something meaningful with your life.”

  Her pretty face contorted with insolence. “Don’t use your powers on me, vampire. We’re warded against that. You think Dominic’s stupid?” With a snort, she twisted on her heel and stormed off, her previous coyness gone.

  Well. That was interesting. Made sense Dominic would protect his comarré from vampire influence. Wouldn’t want any of them being persuaded to become someone’s pet for free. But fringe didn’t have the same powers nobles did, so who was he protecting them against? Tatiana’s return? Or the newly resired Katsumi? Either way, Dominic was smart. Shady. But smart.

  Mal made his way to Dominic’s office. He sensed Dominic was alone. Good. He didn’t want an audience for the conversation he was about to have. He knocked and a few seconds later, Dominic bid him enter. Mal did and saw that he’d been wrong about Dominic being alone. Seated in front of Dominic’s desk was a leanly muscled, dark-haired vampire Mal didn’t recognize.

  “Am I interrupting something?” He glanced at the other vampire. Definitely noble, not quite Dominic’s age but not a vampling either. How had Mal not sensed him?

  “No, no,” Dominic assured him. “This is Luciano, my nephew. He’s come to help me run things here. Every night, Se
ven gets busier. It’s good to have family you can trust.”

  “Luciano.” Mal nodded at the other vampire. “Are you St. Germain like your uncle?”

  “No.” Luciano grinned. “I am House of Paole.”

  That explained not being able to sense him. Paole vampires were undetectable to other vampires. Sneaky bastards.

  Dominic leaned back in his desk chair. “Luciano is a caedo.”

  A chill skittered down Mal’s spine at the word. He tensed, instantly on guard. He’d been hunted by caedo many years ago. Unsuccessfully, but hunted nonetheless.

  Luciano threw his hands up. “Zio, per favore. Why would you tell him that?”

  Dominic waved Luciano’s concerns away. “Malkolm is anathema. Like us. You worry for nothing.” He stood and walked out from behind his desk and laid his hand on Mal’s. “This man sacrificed his blood for mine. That is a debt I have not yet repaid. He will say nothing, will you, Malkolm?”

  “No.” He kept his eyes on Luciano, who didn’t look quite convinced yet. “So long as you’re not here for me.”

  Luciano frowned. “Why would I be here for you? I’m here because my uncle needs me. And because I grew tired of life as the nobility’s errand boy.”

  Errand boy? How about killer? Like you. The caedo were an elite force of vampire assassins. They did the dirty work other nobles didn’t want to soil their hands with but were willing to empty their accounts to pay for. “Dominic said you were anathema like us. What did you do?”

  Luciano’s eyes sparked silver. “I quit.”

  No one quit the caedo. Except by death. That explained Luciano’s reluctance to have his profession revealed.

  Dominic gestured toward a chair. “Sit, my friend. Let us share some wine to celebrate Luciano’s arrival.”

  “Wine isn’t what I need.” Nor did he need to carry the weight of any more of Dominic’s family secrets.

  “Ah, I see. There is something else I can help you with?”

  “I need blood. From one of your comarrés.” Damnation, it pained him to say those words.

  Dominic went back behind his desk and sat. “I would be happy to do this for you, except…” He stared at Mal expectantly, and when Mal didn’t say anything, he finished, “What about Chrysabelle?”

  And there it was. The question he’d known would be asked. Mal sat, buying a little time to form an answer. “She’s still recovering. I don’t want to bother her.”

  Dominic lifted his brows. “That hasn’t stopped you—or her—from the exchange in the past.” He shrugged and lifted his hands. “I don’t want to do something that might upset her. You know she’s like family to me.” He leaned toward Luciano. “She’s Maris’s daughter, the comarré I spoke of earlier.”

  “Marissa? Si.” Luciano nodded.

  What Mal knew was that Dominic wasn’t going to let it drop until he got a better answer. “I need to put some distance between us. Her wishes.”

  “Ah.” Dominic absently tapped his fingers on the desk. “She is just like her mother, that one.” His hand went still. “Any time you need blood, you have only to come to me. As I’m sure you would extend yourself to me, should I need anything.”

  So a favor for a favor. Fine. He should have known Dominic wouldn’t give without getting something in exchange. Mal had no desire to return to pig’s blood. “Haven’t I proven that in the past?”

  “You have.” Dominic pressed the intercom on his desk. “Send one of the best comarré up.”

  “Yes, sir,” a female voice answered.

  Mal shifted. He hadn’t wanted to do this with an audience, but neither did he want to be alone with a human with an open vein. Chrysabelle could fight him off. One of Dominic’s comarrés could not.

  “Do you wish privacy?” Dominic asked.

  “No.” He forced himself to relax.

  “Please.” Dominic held his hand toward a secluded corner of his office that held a chair, low table, and love seat. “I don’t care to be watched while I dine either.”

  Without further argument, Mal got up and went to the seating area. A few minutes later, someone knocked.

  “Come,” Dominic called.

  The door opened. “You sent for me, master?”

  Son of a priest. Of all the comarré Dominic had, Alice was the one who got sent up?

  “Yes,” Dominic answered. He pulled a knife from a desk drawer and held it out to her. “Take this, get a glass from the bar, then fill it for my guest there.” He gestured toward Mal. She didn’t look, but Luciano watched with interest.

  With a hesitant movement, she accepted the dagger. “May I ask why, master?”

  Bloody hell. Mal growled softly, causing her to turn. “Because I can’t drink from the vein.”

  “You,” she whispered. A flash of anger passed over her face, quickly disappearing into a mask of obedience. “As you wish.”

  “Do you know each other?” Dominic asked.

  “No,” Alice said.

  “Yes.” Mal crossed his ankle over the opposite knee and leaned back. “I tried to use my powers of persuasion on her in the club. She didn’t care for it.”

  Dominic laughed. “I’m sure she explained that my comarré are warded against that. Trying to get a replacement for Chrysabelle?”

  “Something like that.” Mal held eye contact with Alice, challenging her to say otherwise. Tired of the games, he pointed to the chair next to him. “Sit.”

  She did as he asked, setting the glass on the low table. “Now what?”

  “Nick your vein and hold it over the glass.” How simple was she?

  “Why not just bite me? It’s so much simpler.”

  “I told you I can’t drink from the vein.” Can and should.

  Indignation rolled off her in waves. “Do you think I’m not worthy?”

  Every muscle in his body tensed. He reminded himself he’d thought this a good idea. “I do not drink from the vein.”

  “Alice,” Dominic barked. “Do as he asks without question. Do not make me speak to Katsumi about your training.”

  “Yes, master.” Disgust in her eyes, she held out her arm and pricked her wrist with the dagger. She yelped, biting her lip. Red beaded up, perfuming the office with the coppery scent of faded roses. Human blood. She turned her wrist over and the glass began to fill.

  Mal waited until the blood was an inch from the top. No point in not getting as much as he could if he had to endure this torture to get it. “Enough.”

  “Like I could give you any more,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her wrist and lifting her chin as if she’d just provided him with the finest vintage wine France had to offer.

  He took the glass and chugged it without ceremony. The blood held none of Chrysabelle’s sweetness or power. There was no sharp burst of pleasurable pain as his body came to life, no beating heart, no need to draw breath. Just the sensation of being full and the numbing of the voices, something human blood had always done. He set the glass down and stood. Time to go home. Check on the comar and see about the vampiress being held captive in the freighter’s hold. “Dominic, my thanks.” He tipped his head at Luciano.

  “Whenever you need it,” he reminded Mal. Luciano lifted his hand in farewell.

  Alice stared up at him intently, obviously waiting for him to thank her as well. “Feel better?”

  “Not much.” He hadn’t stopped thinking about Chrysabelle once. “I’ve had real comarré blood. This isn’t it.”

  Chapter Six

  Prick me again and I’ll have your fingers cut off,” Tatiana snarled.

  The modiste jerked the pin away from the gown’s bodice. “I’m so sorry, my lady. I will be more careful.”

  “Yes, you will be.” Nothing irritated Tatiana more than inactivity. Standing on this platform before these mirrors, being fitted for a gown to wear to the Dominus ball, was not the best use of her time. Not when she could be in New Florida hunting down that comarré whore and finally taking possession of the ring of sorrows
. With that power, Tatiana would be utterly unstoppable, and protecting Lilith would be as easy as breathing. If Tatiana still breathed.

  Octavian strolled in. His eyes silvered as he took her in. “You look glorious.” He stopped by Lilith’s crib, leaning down to coo soft words and tickle her belly. Pride swelled in Tatiana at how good he was with her. She’d been so right to turn him from the kine head of her household staff to her vampire paramour. “Sweet child,” he whispered. He kissed her tiny fist, then came to Tatiana’s side and kissed her cheek. “Hello, my love.”

  “Octavian, don’t keep me waiting. How did her blood tests come out?”

  “Everything’s fine. With the strains of vampirism in her system, the doctor doesn’t think any of the usual immunizations will be necessary.”

  “Excellent.” Relieved, she glanced at Lilith’s crib. “I’d hate to subject her to that kine again.”

  “He’s not such a bad fellow. But enough about him.” He took her hand and held her arm out. “I know nothing about women’s fashion, but you do wonders for this dress.” He winked at her as he released her hand.

  She smiled and smoothed the skirt. “I do, don’t I?” She studied the gown. Deep purple silk corseted her torso with a heavy crusting of diamond embellishment purposefully designed to conceal two slender blades that could be whipped out at a moment’s notice. From her waist, the gown flared so that it flowed around her like water when she walked. Let Svetla’s pale blondness try to compete.

  “You look like the queen you are.”

  “I’m having a tiara made to match. Diamonds and amethyst.”

  “As you should.” He glanced at Lilith. “And for our little one?”

  “Lavender silk and a headband stitched with diamonds and amethyst as well.”

  He nodded. “Like mother, like daughter.”

  She glanced at the seamstress and her helpers, reluctant to talk about private matters in front of them but eager to find out if Octavian had news from Daciana. “Any word from our associate?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” He grasped his hands behind his back and walked forward a few steps. He released his hands, clenching them into fists. “I have no clear way of making contact, despite our new advances.”