Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2)

by Painter, Kristen

  No longer willing to wait, he pulled her into his arms. ‘You glitter like a king’s ransom. That should satisfy them.’

  He kissed her, the way he’d been longing to. He was not disappointed.

  She kissed him back.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  ‘I see you’re busy.’ And not with you, the voices taunted Mal. If thoughts could kill, Creek would be headless and missing his genitalia. The pair sloshed apart and Mal noticed the flush of pleasure across Chrysabelle’s very exposed upper body. She was not the innocent in this situation as he’d first perceived, but certainly Creek had kissed her, not the other way around. Guilty, guilty, guilty …

  Creek looked like a cat fat with cream. Chrysabelle looked like she’d just accidentally drop-kicked a kitten. Mal fought a tempest of emotion, none of it good. The voices laughed at him, told him this was what he deserved. What he should have expected from any woman in his life. Betrayed. Again.

  She fiddled with the strap of her sports bra. ‘I didn’t expect you.’

  ‘You asked me to come.’ Had she meant him to see this? Yes. Fine. He’d seen it. Remember it. He didn’t need to be hit with a sledgehammer to get the hint. She liked Creek. Anyone but you. He was human, Mal understood that. He couldn’t compete with a human. And apparently, his answer to why he liked her hadn’t been enough.

  ‘I did, didn’t I? I remember that now.’ She nodded as she waded toward the steps. ‘Let me get a robe.’

  ‘You do that. I’ll wait here.’ As difficult as it was not to watch her exit the pool, dripping wet in only a sports bra and a pair of small white underwear, Mal found it even harder not to dive in and hold Creek under until he stopped breathing. Kill him or he’ll kill you. What kind of a truce was this? Had it been some kind of plan to wheedle Chrysabelle away from him?

  As soon as the sliding glass door closed behind Chrysabelle, Creek leaped out of the pool and scooped up his clothes. The movement put him toe-to-toe with Mal. He shook his head with a degree of condescension that made Mal’s fists throb with inactivity. Hit. Drain. Kill. No, for Chrysabelle’s sake, he wouldn’t kill Creek. However … Mal hauled back and nailed him across the jaw.

  The punch took Creek to the ground. On hands and knees, he shook his head, popping his jaw to one side. ‘I take it you’re not happy.’ He pushed to his feet, clothes in hand.

  Mal scraped his gaze down Creek’s body, stopping at his groin. ‘I hope for your sake the water was just cold.’

  Creek tugged on his jeans and leaned in. ‘Punching me is a pretty jealous move, don’t you think?’ He pulled his T-shirt on over his head. ‘Interesting, considering you told me you don’t love her.’

  Mal didn’t answer, unable to deny the words. His hands balled into fists again.

  ‘That was a lie, then.’ Creek nodded and took a step back but made no signs to retaliate.

  ‘I can’t love her. I’m not human.’

  ‘Vampires are incapable of love?’

  ‘Not the kind she needs.’

  ‘How do you know what she needs?’

  Mal walked away and sank into one of the chaises. ‘I can’t be with her during daylight hours.’

  ‘Everyone needs to sleep.’

  He frowned, fingers flexing. ‘Don’t you get that I’m not human? Not anymore.’

  ‘Neither am I. Not exactly.’

  ‘But I’m a monster on the inside.’ And the outside, if he dropped his human face.

  ‘Most men are.’

  ‘For someone who was just kissing her, you’re trying awfully hard to give her away. What game are you playing?’

  ‘No game. And I’m not trying to give her away. I’m trying to keep her happy.’ Creek took the chaise across from him. ‘I think we both could.’

  ‘You want to share her.’

  ‘I want to keep her.’ He shook his head. ‘After my father was out of the picture, my mother changed. It was like she rediscovered being a woman. My sister would write to me about all the different men my mother was dating – good men, but men just the same.’

  ‘You think Chrysabelle’s going to sow some wild oats.’

  ‘She’s putting her comarré life behind her more each day. Things that have always been forbidden aren’t any longer.’

  Chrysabelle, out in the world, tasting what it had to offer. The men who would come after her … Mal didn’t like the idea of sharing her with Creek, but at least he was a known quantity. There were worse choices. Like you.

  It didn’t hurt that Creek could be available during daylight hours if she needed something, either. He studied the man across from him. ‘She deserves better.’

  Creek nodded. ‘Too bad. She’s getting us.’

  The glass door slid open. Both men turned as a frowning Chrysabelle strode toward them. She was dressed in a simple white top and pants, her hair tied back. ‘You two aren’t beating the crap out of each other.’

  ‘Disappointed?’ Mal asked. Because he could start.

  ‘Pleasantly surprised. And a little befuddled.’ She hugged her arms around her body. ‘Mal, I promised you we’d talk. Creek, if you could give us some privacy?’

  ‘Sure.’ Then he whispered under his breath to Mal, ‘By the way, I’ve been in the house.’ With a parting smile, he went to Chrysabelle’s side. ‘I won’t be far. Yell if you need me.’

  ‘I won’t, but thank you.’ She walked past Mal, toward the chaises. ‘So we’re back to this, are we?’

  ‘I have no idea what you mean.’ Actually, he had a pretty good idea of what she meant, but he wasn’t about to give her that. If she wanted to talk about it, she could spell it out.

  ‘I mean you being angry at me.’

  ‘I’m not angry. I’m here so you can uphold your end of our deal.’

  ‘So seeing Creek and me together like that didn’t bother you?’

  Like salt in an open wound. But Creek had a point about the possibilities. ‘He’s not the worst choice you could make.’

  Her brows shot up. ‘You feel okay?’

  Feelings weren’t something he wanted to discuss. ‘What did you find out from Dominic?’

  She hesitated, seeming a little sad. ‘You remember how I was able to open the portal into Tatiana’s estate?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I may be able to access the Aurelian through the same means, but it also requires a blood ritual.’

  The very sound of that made the voices whine with an eagerness that turned his stomach. The beast clawed to be free. ‘There has to be another way.’

  ‘There isn’t.’ She looked at him, eyes distant. ‘And I don’t want to keep owing you. You deserve your answer.’

  ‘If Creek hears about the blood ritual, he’s going to want to know more. And maybe he should. As a precaution,’ Mal said. He hated admitting his weakness, but he’d hate hurting her more.

  ‘As a precaution for what—’

  ‘Did I hear my name?’ Creek called out as he approached.

  ‘Yes,’ Mal answered. Humans didn’t hear that well, but KM probably did. Creek might actually be telling the truth about who he was. ‘We need to talk.’

  Upstairs in the guesthouse in one of the few bedrooms not destroyed by the Nothos, Tatiana gazed down at Octavian’s outstretched form. He trembled upon the bed with an ecstasy so palpable it coated her tongue like warm treacle. He seemed on the verge of orgasmic bliss.

  That, she imagined, would disappear rather quickly as death took hold of his mortal brain. She would not pamper him through this experience. The vampire that had taken her mortal life had devoured her like food. If Octavian wanted this existence, he must learn its harsh realities.

  Her staring seemed to make him twitch. ‘Your mortal life ends tonight. You understand that?’

  ‘It will be my greatest joy,’ he panted. ‘I am ready, my lady. Take me now.’

  She laughed. ‘You are such a whore, Octavian. I believe that will serve you well in the centuries to come.’

  Before he coul
d utter another sycophantic word, she fell on him, thrusting her fangs into his tender neck. His breath ruffled her hair as he cried out in pleasure, but those sounds eroded into strangled gasps the more she drank. There was pain now, she knew that, but worse, he would feel the press of death’s shadow upon his soul. The promise of immortality would seem a very distant thing at this moment. She expected him to fight, but he went utterly quiet as the last of his sweet, life-filled blood drained down her throat. She took one last draw to be sure. The mouthful tasted of death.

  She spat the bitter draught onto the floor and checked his pulse. Thready and fading. She jagged one fang across the inside of her wrist, then pressed it to his lips.

  He came alive so quickly she wondered if she’d taken him down far enough, but there was no mistaking the death she’d tasted in his veins. This was just his eagerness to change on display. He lapped greedily at the blood she offered him.

  He drank and drank until a faint buzzing rang in her ears. ‘Enough.’ She yanked her hand away and counted down. Three … two …

  With a cry, Octavian convulsed like a bolt of lightning had struck him. His body arced between tense and limp as the invisible currents of life and death surged through him. As with all turnings, death – the permanent kind – occasionally came out the victor. She had no doubts this time. Octavian’s will was too strong.

  At last, he lay still. The color drained from his skin. Facial lines smoothed. His slightly crooked nose straightened. The fine polish of nobility settled upon him as though he’d been born that beautiful. She studied him. A fine creation. She would train him to be the loyal companion she’d always deserved.

  His lids fluttered and he opened his eyes. They’d gone from dull brown to a luscious cognac that matched his now-glossy hair. ‘Am I … ’ His chin quivered as if he couldn’t bear to speak the words lest they somehow become untrue.

  ‘Yes, you are. Welcome to the glorious and powerful Tepes Family, Octavian.’

  He sat up, blinking his eyes like he’d gotten dizzy. Running his hands over his face, he felt the new angles and edges of his vampire visage. His fingers went to his teeth. He pricked one on a fang and stared at the pearl of blood shimmering on his fingertip. He turned to her. ‘I’m hungry.’

  She nodded. ‘You want to feed, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’ His face darkened with the pleasure of anticipation. ‘I want to kill.’

  Delight bubbled up inside her and she clutched at her dead heart. ‘Oh, my sweet, that is exactly what I’d hoped you’d say.’ She took his hand and licked the blood from his finger. ‘Because I am the most wonderful sire, I have prepared something for you.’ She patted his leg. ‘Wait five minutes, then come back to the house. Stay downstairs. When I call you, come up.’

  Busy running his tongue over his teeth, he nodded. She left and hurried into the house and upstairs to the bedroom.

  Nasir was naked on the bed, just as she’d anticipated. ‘What took you so long?’

  Bloody prat. ‘I had to deal with the Nothos. I told you that.’ She shut the door behind her and walked toward him, swaying her hips in a way she knew distracted him.

  She trailed her fingers up his leg. ‘You’ve been a naughty boy being away from me for so long, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, very naughty.’ He nodded eagerly.

  ‘Then you should be punished.’ And punished he would be, but for an entirely different reason. She unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor. Nasir reached for her, but she moved away. She wriggled out of her skirt, keeping her expensive French bra and panties on along with her heels. Nasir was suitably distracted. From under the bed, she took the black briefcase she’d planted earlier.

  Nasir’s eyes widened with pleasure. His body tightened and he tried for her again. She slapped his hand away. ‘You are a bad, bad boy. Lie back and do as you’re told.’

  Biting his lip, he stretched out on the bed. She took out the lengths of rope and teased them across his stomach and groin.

  His eyes shuttered at the sensation. ‘You’re killing me.’

  ‘You have no idea.’ But he’d find out soon enough. She tied his arms and legs to the bedposts, planting nips and bites on his skin as she went. She’d miss him in her bed, but Octavian would be a willing student.

  He tugged playfully at the rope. ‘That’s it, nice and tight. You wouldn’t want me escaping and ravishing you sooner than your little game allows, now, would you?’

  ‘No, we can’t have that.’ She almost laughed. The rope might look like simple silk, but its core was woven silver encased in gold to hide any telltale buzz. There was no breaking it. Not for him. ‘I think I’d like some wine. Octavian, can you come here, please?’ There was no need to shout. Octavian’s new hearing would pick up every word.

  ‘How dare you let that kine in here when I’m like this.’ Nasir’s nostrils flared. He pulled at the rope. ‘What is this? Why can’t I break this?’ He struggled harder.

  She stood at the foot of the bed and watched him serenely. ‘You’ve been Ivan’s pawn from the beginning. You shouldn’t have brought him back here.’ She shook her head and strolled around to the side so she could lean in and whisper the words into his ear. ‘Your betrayal must be punished.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ His eyes were wild now, his body limp.

  Octavian came in. He seemed shocked at Nasir’s condition, but smiled when he saw Tatiana’s outfit. He quickly looked away. ‘My lady, I did not expect—’

  She clucked her tongue. ‘Octavian, we are family now. You must not call me my lady anymore.’

  Nasir rambled in Arabic. Perhaps he was cursing, for surely he understood his fate now.

  She walked to Octavian and took his hand. ‘Do you like what you see?’

  ‘You mean … ’ His gaze ran the length of her. ‘Yes, very much, my – Tatiana.’

  ‘Are you still hungry?’

  His eyes never left her. ‘Yes. A thousand times yes.’

  She cupped his chin and kissed him softly on the mouth. ‘Then go and have your supper. Your dessert will be waiting.’

  He glanced at Nasir and grimaced. ‘But to drink from another noble … ’

  ‘Don’t make such a face. And I don’t intend for you to just drink from him. You are to drain him dry.’

  Nasir howled and struggled harder.

  Octavian leveled his gaze at her. ‘Besides causing the death of another vampire, which I know is the unforgivable sin, may I be so bold as to ask why you wish me to do this?’

  She laughed over Nasir’s ranting. ‘Your naïveté is charming. I believe, as do many of our kind, that the first meal after one’s turning is crucial. In this case, I am hoping that by draining Nasir, you will obtain some of his powers as well. You’ll be sort of a hybrid of Tepes and St. Germain, although you must hide the alchemy powers from the other nobles. We mustn’t tip them off to what we’ve done.’

  ‘Of course not. But what of his death? Lord Ivan will know. There are others in Corvinestri who also know Nasir is here with you.’

  ‘Those at home are fully aware of how dangerous the Southern Union is, full of varcolai and fringe and remnants. Unfortunate things happen in a place like this.’ She shivered for effect. ‘As for Lord Ivan, you leave him to me. Now, do as you’re told.’

  He bowed slightly, then fell upon Nasir with a viciousness that warmed her. Nasir’s struggles faded quickly. She went to stand beside the bed. ‘Be careful now. You mustn’t drink his death or you’ll cause your own.’

  Octavian lifted his head from Nasir’s ruined throat. Blood coated his chin. Vamplings were always such messy eaters. ‘How do I know?’

  ‘You’ll know. The taste changes. Becomes bitter.’

  He drank a moment longer, then sat back on his heels and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘I swear I can feel his power within me.’

  ‘Good.’ She gestured toward Nasir. ‘Watch out. He should—’

  With a sound like sand rushing through
an hourglass, Nasir went to dust before them.

  ‘Turn to ash any moment.’ She folded the coverlet up and over, packaging Nasir’s remains neatly, then set the bundle aside. ‘Now then … ’ She smiled at Octavian and climbed up on the bed to kneel across from him. ‘Are you ready for your dessert?’

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  ‘Assistance is all we ask,’ Ronan repeated.

  Dominic mulled the request over. He stared into the fire, its electric crackling soothing him. Ensconced comfortably in his suite with Katsumi at his side, a glass of Brunello in his hand, and a bellyful of comarré blood, Dominic could almost forget the chaos his world was in.

  Almost.

  But there were too many wrongs to be righted, too many irritants to be dealt with for him to relax and go about his life. He sipped his wine before answering Ronan. ‘The fringe may have anointed you king, but in my eyes, nothing’s changed. They are still an unorganized group of rabble-rousers.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Katsumi added with the kind of laziness that came from being well fed. Three comars and she’d almost gone for a fourth. Apparently navitas built a powerful appetite.

  Ronan smacked his fist into his palm. ‘Fringe make up the bulk of your customers. Until you help us stop these killings, we will boycott Seven. Your income will dry up. Not to mention your employee list.’

  Dominic laughed. ‘You clearly don’t understand the bulk of my business. Seven provides some of it, si, but there are many other aspects to what I do. What I provide.’

  Ronan sat back, his mouth a thin, tight line. ‘We will interrupt your runners. Keep your products from reaching their destinations. And what of your comarré? Who will pay for their blood when the club is empty?’

  Dominic leaned forward. ‘Where will your subjects get their blood if not from my sources? Will they ravage the human population and risk turning the city against them? Or do the fringe plan on adopting a more vegetarian way of life?’

  Katsumi covered her mouth and laughed softly. Dominic gave her an appreciative glance. Whether it was her fresh nobility or her self-induced change, he very much liked the new Katsumi. He squeezed her knee through the purple kimono she wore.