“But why? That would be like a prince leaving his kingdom. Remo’s father is one of the most powerful men in all of Brazil. Why would Remo want to put so much distance between them?”
Fi traced a circle on the table top. “Remo’s the third born. I know that much about him. There was no chance he’d ever inherit that throne.” She stopped drawing. “And Doc’s a nobody to him. Maybe he thought he could come in here and take over this pride. Especially if he could throw suspicion about his sister’s death on Doc or me.”
Pete nodded. “That’s interesting. And it gives me a lot to look into.” He pushed his tablet forward a little. “I still have to ask you questions.”
“I know. And I’m ready to answer.” She’d said her piece, given him everything she and Doc had come up with in the car. Remo could definitely be behind this. And even if he wasn’t, it would buy Doc and his council a little more time to do their own investigation.
Pete cleared his throat. “Where were you the night of Heaven’s death?”
“Right there in the arena with her, getting the daylights beaten out of me. By her.” Fi took a breath. “Next?”
“The sun will be down in an hour, maybe less.” Chrysabelle pushed her dessert plate away. “I want to wake him up.”
Not alone, Velimai signed as she began to clear dishes.
“I agree.” Mortalis set his coffee cup down. “Let Damian and me go with you. Just to be safe.”
Amylia smiled politely. “I feel like I’m intruding on personal business here. Thank you for dinner, it was lovely, but I’m going to go back to the guesthouse and let you have your privacy.” She pushed her chair back.
Chrysabelle nodded, knowing how awkward this must be for the girl. “Thank you. You’re welcome for dinner any time.”
Amylia gave a little wave and left.
As the front door swung shut, Chrysabelle raised her eyebrows. “That was intuitive of her. Of course, she can’t be that comfortable knowing there’s a vampire in the house. I get it, but it is my house.” She looked at Damian. “Sorry. Our house. I guess you’re probably not crazy about him being here either.”
“Amylia’s… fine. As fine as she can be in this situation. And she understands about Mal.” He flattened the crust of his key lime pie with his fork, turning it into sand. “She knows, like I do, that Mal helped you get me out of Corvinestri. He kept you safe. And I know you have feelings for him. I’m not about to tell you whom you can and can’t love.” He looked at her. “I just hope for your sake, he wakes up like his old self again.”
“Thank you.” Having her brother on her side meant a lot. She pushed her chair back and stood. “Shall we?” She led them down the hall.
Mortalis stopped them at the door to the hurricane shelter. “Let me.” He opened the door slowly, then tapped the light panel. Soft overheads filled the space with gentle illumination.
Mal sprawled on the couch, one arm hanging off, but otherwise stone still in the deathly repose of a vampire in daysleep. Mortalis pulled a small black dagger from his belt.
Damian unsheathed the sacre he’d grabbed along the way. “Just in case,” he whispered.
She didn’t like it, but she understood. “Mal,” she called. “Can you wake up?”
No response. She went close enough to give his leg a shake. He wasn’t usually a sound sleeper. “Mal. Wake up.”
His eyes came open and he blinked a few times. The moment his gaze focused on her, he grinned. “You’re home.” He leaped off the couch.
Damian’s blade came flashing down between them. “Not so fast.”
Mal snarled, but his hands went up in surrender. “You have a death wish?”
Damian kept the blade in place. “Do you?”
“Enough.” Chrysabelle itched to touch Mal, but first things first. “Mal, how do you feel?”
“Like if I don’t get some alone time with you, I’m going to kill somebody.”
Mortalis spun the blade through his fingers. “Not the answer we were looking for.”
Mal frowned. “You know what I mean.” He turned his gaze to Chrysabelle. “Damn, it’s good to see you. I just want to hold you and make sure you’re real.”
He stared at her, his expression fraught with all the emotions that had been ripped from him, his eyes so silver they gleamed, and she knew in that moment that he was back. This was her Mal standing before her. “That might be a little uncomfortable.” She pulled up the sleeve of her tunic top. “I’m wearing my body armor.” It was the best protection she and the baby had against him if things went poorly.
His hands reached out for her, but he made no move to come closer. “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have let the raptor touch me. I should have fought.” Anger and humiliation razed shadows across his face. He turned so she couldn’t see his eyes. “That damned thing got the best of me.”
Mortalis tucked his blade away. “There was nothing you could have done. And I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I knew what that fae was capable of; I just never guessed what he’d go after.”
“Put your sacre away, Damian.” Emotion made it hard for her to say more. “I’m just glad you’re back, Mal. So… glad.”
He looked at her again, squinted, and pointed to her forehead. “Please tell me I didn’t do that.”
Her fingers went to the scratch near her hairline. “The raptor did.”
Mal’s jaw clenched and he slanted his eyes at Mortalis. “You brought that thing back? After what it did to me?”
“No.” She held her hand out. “I went after it. I… killed it. I had no other choice.”
Mortalis nodded softly. “That’s why she wasn’t here when you arrived. And why your emotions returned to you.” He looked proudly at Chrysabelle. “She did the impossible. To save you.”
Dominic’s patience had stretched to a new definition of thin. Katsumi’s murder, much like Maris’s, stirred a fire in him that could only be quenched by another death. He stared at his nephew as he entered the office. “What have you found out?”
Luciano settled into the chair across from him. “The mayor knows more than she is saying, but not much I think.”
“She lied to you? You are her sire.”
“And she is also Americano.” He said the word with disdain. “She knows nothing of the old ways. Nothing of respect.” He crossed one leg over the other, his pant leg pulling back to reveal a sheath of slim throwing daggers. “Do you know this new vampire that works for her? I spoke with the staff and he was definitely here with her that night.”
Dominic waved his hand, one of his rings throwing flashes of red. “I don’t know many of the fringe.”
“He’s not fringe. Not with that face and those eyes.” Luciano nodded. “Definitely noble, and I could sense him before I stepped off the elevator, so not Paole either.”
“What’s his name?”
“She called him Octavian and I confirmed with both the server and the croupier who took care of them that night. Octavian Petrescu.”
Dominic stared at Luciano but saw only memories. “Brown hair and eyes, medium build. No age on him. Sired less than a year, probably.”
“Si, that could be him.”
Dominic swore. “He works for Tatiana. Porca troia.” He rested both elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “I want him brought in alive, and then I want word sent to her that her errand boy has been discovered. If she wants him back, she can come and get him herself. Otherwise, I will kill him.”
Luciano’s mouth bunched to one side. “Do you think she’ll come? After all, she’s not known for her compassion toward her fellow brethren.”
“I saw them together at the Dominus ball. She loves him. She’ll come. And when she does, I will kill both of them to make up for the deaths they have dealt me.” He nodded slowly. “I must prepare my workroom. These deaths…” He smiled. It was good to have something new to focus on. “They will not be fast or merciful.”
Luciano didn’t get up. “Zio, there is
another thing…”
Dominic settled back in his chair. When Luciano called him uncle, chances were good the next thing that followed would not be. “Si?”
“The other night, when I was leaving blood for Malkolm, I ran into someone.” A rare sliver of fear ran through Luciano’s eyes.
“And?”
“He claims to be Kubai Mata.” Luciano laughed, but it seemed forced. “Of course, I know they do not exist, but still, who would make such a—”
“They do exist. His name is Creek. He hasn’t been an issue for me, and from what Mortalis tells me, he’s fairly levelheaded. I doubt you’ll see him much. He tends to watch the fringe more. Now, go, I have work—”
“It’s just that…” Luciano paused as if still absorbing the knowledge that the KM were real. “He knows I’m responsible for siring the mayor. He said he had orders to kill me, but because of what I was doing for Chrysabelle in helping to keep Malkolm sedated, he would let me go. I was thinking, perhaps I should strike first—”
“No.” Dominic shook his head. “You cannot kill him. His grandmother is not a woman I wish to upset, nor will I make an enemy of the Kubai Mata.” He shooed Luciano away. “Out, find this Octavian and bring him to me. My need to avenge these deaths will not go unmet.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
You killed the raptor? By yourself?” Mal stared in amazement at the beautiful woman across from him. The voices had retreated into a sullen, pouting mass, making them easy to ignore, especially with Chrysabelle standing in front of him. Her glow was more brilliant than he’d ever seen it and it wasn’t just because he’d been away from her so long. She gleamed like she was lit from within.
She put her hands on her hips. “Is this the part where you scold me? I got a little scratch; that was it. A small price to pay for the return of your emotions.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to yell at you. I’m impressed. That thing was huge. And dangerous.”
“And killing it was the only way to bring you back to me.”
He ached to hold her. “I owe you my life. In more ways than one.” He smiled. “How many times are you going to save me?”
She took a step toward him. “As many times as I have to.” She held his gaze. “Damian, Mortalis, could you leave us alone? We can all agree Mal’s not a threat to me anymore.”
They left and Mal grinned. “I might be a threat to those clothes. How much of a burn do you think that body armor will give me while I’m tearing it off you?”
She laughed, but it faded fast. “You might want to sit. I have something to tell you.”
“Later. I’m too wound up to sit.”
She pointed at the couch. “Now.”
Reluctantly, he sat. “Fine. But you’ve got two minutes. Then body armor or not, you’re mine.”
She didn’t even smile as she took the other end of the couch, far enough that the silver mesh covering her body didn’t cause his skin to itch. Much. “You should probably hear what I have to say first.”
“I don’t like the tone of your voice. Sounds serious.”
“It is, but it’s not bad news. I don’t think.”
“Just tell me.” He swallowed. What had he done now? “I can take it.”
She reached out, slipping her fingers through his. He closed his eyes at her touch, the warmth of her skin like a kiss. “I… I’m pregnant.”
He froze.
“Did you hear me? I’m pregnant. That… episode in the plane’s bedroom on the way home from Corvinestri? Well, it… worked.” She looked slightly miffed. “As Fi would say, you knocked me up.”
He stared at her. He knew he wasn’t moving, knew he wasn’t saying anything, but he couldn’t get his body to respond and couldn’t find words that made sense.
She tugged on his hand. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Are you upset? Happy? I need to know how you feel about this.”
Slowly, he began to nod. “Happy doesn’t cover it. I didn’t even know it was possible. A child. Our child. I…” The cold realization of what that meant hit him. “This child is half vampire, half comarré.”
“Yes. Part of each of us.”
“Son of a priest.” Fear crept in over his bones. “Look at what happened with Preacher’s child. Julia wasn’t even a real comarré. Can you imagine how many people will be after this baby? The lengths they’ll go to lay hands on it?”
Chrysabelle’s hands went to her stomach. “We’ll protect it. No matter what.”
“That goes without saying, but—”
“I already know Tatiana’s in town.”
“Not anymore. She was, but I sent her home.”
Chrysabelle frowned. “You sent her home?”
“She came here to recruit me. Offered to restore my noble status and set me up as her Elder, in exchange for helping her.”
“Helping her with what? It’s got to be a trick.”
“I don’t think so. She told me the ancient ones fed Lilith, the baby, with their blood after they took her. They’ve turned her into some kind of monster. Grown-up Lilith has already killed Tatiana’s Elder and she says even the ancients are afraid of what they’ve created. Now she wants my help getting rid of Lilith.”
Chrysabelle crossed her arms. “I don’t like this. She’s setting you up to die.”
“Maybe, but I told her I would do it.”
“What? No.” She grabbed his arm. “That was the old you. You can’t.”
He squeezed her hand. “I have to. Don’t you see? If this Lilith is as powerful as Tatiana says, can you imagine the threat she’ll be to our child? She must be dealt with. And in doing so, I’ll be able to get close to Tatiana and take care of her, too. I have to go to Corvinestri. She’s waiting for me. If I don’t, I have no doubt she’ll come back here.”
She pulled her hand out from under his and slid a little farther away from him. “If you go, I’m going with you.”
“Chrysabelle, right now Tatiana thinks you and I are done and that I care about nothing but my own advancement. She’s got to keep thinking that for this to work.” He snagged her hand and kissed her knuckles. “And you have the baby to think about.” He smiled. “Our baby.”
She glared at him, clearly unmoved by his affections. Damn, he’d missed her. “She won’t know I’m there, and we’ll be stronger working together. Besides, if Lilith is so powerful that the ancients are afraid of her, then the comarré need to know about this new threat. They need to prepare. We have been taught all our lives that the future holds a day when we will be called upon to rise up and destroy our hosts.”
Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I believe that day has come.”
“I need your help, Octavian.” Lola hoped he could see the sincerity in her eyes, and the pain of losing her daughter and her granddaughter etched across her face. She also hoped inviting him to her home had not been a mistake. She folded her hands on her lap and sighed. “I am a woman in pain. A woman in mourning.”
“Why?” he asked, leaning forward from his seat on the big leather chair opposite her. She took that to mean concern. A good sign. “What’s happened?”
“Since my daughter Julia’s death, I have been searching for my granddaughter. She is a unique child, half vampire, half comarré. And I have been told that she is now in the possession of those known as the ancients.”
Silver flickered in his eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard about this child. She was introduced to the nobility at a ball, recently. But I also believe what you said is true—she is now in the hands of the ancients.”
Lola nodded. He knew of Mariela. “You must help me, then. I have no one else to turn to. No one else I trust.”
“What help do you need?”
“I want to get her back.” She looked into his eyes and tried to convey every ounce of pain she’d felt these last months. There truly was no length she wouldn’t go to in order to get her grandchild back. He must understand that. “Tell me how to access these ancients.”
His gaze
went completely silver and he pushed back in his chair, shaking his head. “No. You cannot. They are… unlike anything you know.”
“But I do know,” she said. “I know they are the creators of our kind, I know they are angels fallen from their first estate. And I also know that I am the one best suited to raise this child. I must get her back.”
Again he shook his head. “What you ask is madness. They will kill you.”
“How do you know?”
“Can you think of a reason they wouldn’t?” He stood and began to pace. “A barely sired vampire wants to take their greatest possession from them?” He laughed. “Do you really expect them to hand her over to you?”
“I am her family. Her blood.”
“None of that matters to the Cast—” He frowned. “The ancients. None of it. You would do yourself a favor to forget this child.”
She jumped up. “Forget my grandchild? You are insane. Don’t you have any family? Isn’t there anyone you would fight for?”
He stopped pacing to glare at her. “I spent my life in the service of the nobles, only to give that life to them in exchange for this new one. The only family I’ve ever known has done nothing but take from me. Take and take and take some more.”
Slightly surprised, she softened her tone. “I am sorry about that. No one should have to live that kind of life.”
With a sigh, he collapsed into his chair again. “I apologize for raising my voice. I shouldn’t burden you with my troubles, but I cannot see any outcome with the nobles that gives you the result you want. They are hard creatures. Frightening. Capricious. They are the father of our race and yet they treat us more like disposable playthings than children.” His eyes met hers. “I worry for you. I have come to care for you in my own way, and I suppose that makes me foolish because we’ve known each other such a short time, but that is who I am. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“That’s very kind of you, Octavian.” It warmed her heart to know she’d affected him so deeply in so few days. If she actually had. “But I cannot pretend my granddaughter never exists. I cannot turn my back on her.”
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