Last Blood hoc-5

by Kristen Painter

  Son of a priest. “Look at it this way,” Mal said. “She saved you the effort.”

  “Hmph.” Tatiana stood, her silver gaze directed at him. “And you were trying to protect her.”

  “No.” He came to her side, intent on damage control, and took her by the shoulders. “I was trying to protect you.”

  “Me?” She frowned. “From what?”

  “From Lilith’s wrath. You haven’t spoken to her since the incident with Octavian and when she disappeared, she was convinced you were angry at her. How much more time will you let go by before you console her? Do you really want her to stew longer than necessary? The more upset she is, the harder it may be to convince her to step through that portal with us.”

  Tatiana’s hand went to her mouth. “Bloody hell. With this thing with Octavian, I’d completely forgotten.”

  He released her. “You’ve got to call her to you, soothe her, and persuade her to come with us to the Garden. Make it seem like something special.” He narrowed his eyes. “She’s growing stronger, isn’t she? More volatile?”

  Tatiana nodded and shifted her face back to human. “Thank you.”

  Those were the last words he’d expected out of her mouth, but with Tatiana, nothing was a given. “For what?”

  “For keeping your head when I’m losing mine.” She hugged him, causing him to stiffen. He forced himself to relax, but her touch was so repulsive it took effort. “I never should have let you go, Mal. We’re so good together, you and I.”

  It was pointless to remind her that she hadn’t let him go; she’d left him to rot. “Yes, well, I’m here now.”

  And the sooner he could rid the world of her and her hell-spawned child, the sooner he’d be gone.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chrysabelle slept as much as she could on the way home. The child in her belly had definitely begun to sap her strength, something she would need when she entered the Garden. She yawned and stretched as Jerem pulled the car around to the front of the house. The sun was just coming up.

  Velimai opened the door, her gaze shifting from Chrysabelle’s face to her stomach and back up again. Her hands started moving. How are you feeling?

  “Tired, but I’ll make it.” Behind her, Jerem brought her bag in. “Thank you. Take a few days off, okay? You’ve earned them.”

  He nodded, smiling. “Thanks, boss.”

  After he left, Chrysabelle glanced up the steps. “Damian moved in?”

  Yes. He’s in the suite at the very end of the south side.

  “How’s Amylia taking it?”

  “She’s doing fine.” Damian came down the stairs. “How was your trip? Tatiana dead yet?”

  “No, not yet. Mal and I have some work to do before that’s accomplished, but we’re close.” She gave him a hug when he approached. “I’m glad you moved into the main house. I like having you here.”

  “I’m not sure I’m staying, though. The trust lawyer dropped off some paperwork while you were gone and I was reading through the list of the Lapointe Company holdings. Our mother was a very savvy businesswoman. Among the properties she purchased is a penthouse on Venetian Island.” He grinned. “I was thinking I might move in there. If you wouldn’t mind my taking that place.”

  “Mind? I didn’t even know about it.” She smiled, but her heart sank. She’d wanted him to stay here. To share the house. But maybe that was selfish. And not something he was interested in. “And it’s not up to me anyway. It belongs to both of us. If you want to live there, then that’s what you should do.” Her smile faltered. “Venetian Island rings a bell with me for some reason, but I can’t recall it now. Either way, if that’s what you want, I’m happy for you.”

  He pointed to the back of the house. “You know you can see Venetian from here. It’s just the next island up. We can go back and forth by boat.”

  “Have you visited the place yet?”

  “No, I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

  She tipped her head. “And are you taking Amylia with you?”

  He laughed. “Don’t think I don’t hear the sly tone in your voice. I might. It’s not like that between us, but she has become a friend and we certainly know what the other one is going through. Besides, you know I feel responsible for her.”

  Velimai came out from the kitchen. Breakfast is almost ready if you’re hungry.

  Chrysabelle’s stomach growled. “Famished.” She hooked her arm through Damian’s. “I’m so glad you’re here.” The only upside of him moving out was that she could keep the secret of the baby a little while longer if she wanted to, but that seemed a small victory. He was her family. Fi was right. He deserved to know, but telling him scared her. Things were so good between them; she hated to do anything to ruin it. Would he understand? “There’s something I want to talk to you about after breakfast, okay?”

  “You got it.” He patted her hand as they walked into the kitchen. “You need any help with the rest of your plan for Tatiana?”

  “I might.” She sat as Velimai brought platters to the table. “Do you know about the comarré ability to open portals?”

  “You mean like the secret doors and passageways beneath the noble estates?” He filled both their glasses with orange juice from a pitcher.

  “Something like that, except it involves blood.” She took a sip. “I’m going to open one tonight and use it to travel to the Garden of Eden.”

  His eyes widened. “Really?”

  She nodded. “You’re welcome to watch if you’d like. It’s probably not a bad skill for you to learn. I’m going to prepare a few things, catch a few hours of sleep, and then I’ll be ready.” She took a plate of bacon from Velimai, who then sat across from Damian.

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” He helped himself to a slice of raisin toast. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Yes.” Coward. “No.” She put her fork down and made herself look him in the eyes. Just say it. “I’m pregnant.”

  He stopped buttering his toast and stared at her.

  She looked down at her plate. “I know, it’s a lot to take in, but you’re my brother and you should know. You’d figure it out in a few more weeks anyway, the way I’m starting to show.”

  “It’s Mal’s?” He put the bread down. “Of course it’s Mal’s. Stupid question. Are you okay?” He glanced at Velimai. “You already knew about this?”

  “She knew,” Chrysabelle answered. “She figured it out before I did. And yes, I’m okay. Mal’s feelings for me have returned and things are wonderful between us. I just want to know how you feel about it.”

  A slow, unsteady smile built on his face. “I’m… I’m going to be an uncle.”

  Setting everything up and getting Vernadetto to arrive had taken a few hours, but he and a few of his officers had finally joined Doc in his office. Doc stood to shake his hand as he came in. “Thanks for coming, Chief. I promise you, this will be worth your while.” He nodded to Creek, already there. “I understand you know Creek already. He’s the one who helped me figure this out.”

  Creek stood and shook the chief’s extended hand. “Chief.”

  Vernadetto looked at him. “You staying out of trouble’s way?”

  “If by trouble, you mean the mayor, then yes.”

  Vernadetto snorted. “She has gone in an interesting direction.”

  Doc held a hand up, trying to shift the conversation before Creek revealed too much. Until Doc knew the outcome of this meeting, the file Creek had given him might be his only leverage. “Let’s focus on what’s about to happen. After you and your men set up in the conference room, I’ll call Remo up here. Creek and I will lay the evidence out and see what happens. You’ll be able to follow along on the tablet in there thanks to the camera we set up.”

  Vernadetto nodded. “And if he doesn’t give us something we can use?”

  Doc glanced at the officers. “If it comes down to it, we may use some… extra persuasion.”

  Creek crossed his arms.
“You have a problem with that?”

  Vernadetto shrugged. “If you can do it without leaving marks, that would be better. Harder to prove if there’s nothing to show.”

  “Got it.” Doc opened the door to the conference room. “I hope to Bast this works.”

  The officers filed in, Vernadetto behind them. “For Fiona’s sake, I hope so too.”

  Doc shut the door, then went to his desk, hit the speaker button on his phone, and punched in a number. It rang twice before Remo picked up.

  “What?”

  No respect whatsoever. Fire built along Doc’s muscles. “Council meeting.”

  Remo laughed. “With one council member?”

  “I’m making do.”

  “All right. I’ll be up.”

  “Soon,” Doc said.

  More laughter. “What are you going to do? Start without me?”

  Doc hit the button to disconnect and looked at Creek. “You may have to stop me from killing him.”

  Creek blew out a breath. “You know that’s not really my area of expertise.”

  Doc nodded and sat at his desk to wait. “Just make sure there’s enough of him left to stand trial.”

  Damian nodded appreciatively at the penthouse’s foyer as he got off the elevator. The place was posh and seemed to be decorated in the style of the Primorus Domus with its gilding and ceiling mural. He studied the painted ceiling and snorted softly as he recognized the source. A copy of The Feast of the Gods by Bellini. How appropriate for a comarré. He brushed his fingers over the lion’s-head door knocker hanging off the bronze double doors. Oddly masculine, but he’d never known his mother, so he was in no position to judge her taste.

  He held up the key the attorney had given him, waving it in front of the scanner. The bolt slid back and he tucked the key away. If the rest of the apartment looked anything like the foyer, he’d have to gut it and start over. He’d never be able to live in a replica of the place that had sold him into slavery. Of course, gutting the apartment would take money he didn’t have. Money he’d have to take from his mother’s estate.

  He scowled at the thought. It felt so foreign to him to even think about a mother. Or a sister, for that matter. A sister who was pregnant with a vampire’s child.

  He’d let Chrysabelle think he was happy for her, but in his gut, happiness wasn’t what he felt. He knew nothing about the vampire other than Mal had come with her to rescue him, but Damian hadn’t seen him since she’d returned from Corvinestri.

  He might not have known Chrysabelle long, but his instincts to protect his sister had already kicked in. Any man, vampire or otherwise, who would create that kind of relationship with her only to disappear had a lot of explaining to do. Damian had endured nearly a hundred and twenty-two years of training. Killing a vampire who’d dishonored his sister wouldn’t be hard.

  He rubbed a hand across his mouth, trying to calm himself. Chrysabelle was a grown woman. It wasn’t his place to interfere unless it was clear she was in danger and that hadn’t happened. Yet.

  It was good this apartment was here. He should give her some space, especially with the baby on the way. Yes, they were family and they needed to get to know each other, but it was obvious she was going through something right now that only time could help. Besides, she’d risked her life to save his. He owed her that much.

  He put a hand on the door and pushed.

  The apartment inside was beautiful. Clean, modern lines and tall windows that looked out over the sparkling blue waters of the bay. The door swung softly shut behind him as he walked toward them to look out.

  He planted himself before the glass and whistled softly. “Nice view.”

  “Thank you. Can I ask what brings you here unannounced?”

  Damian spun. “Dominic. What are you doing here?”

  The vampire nodded. “Glad to know you remember me.” He tightened the tie of his silk robe. “And I believe I’m the one who should be asking you that question.” Small sparks of silver lit his eyes. “How did you get in here?”

  Damian fished the key from his pocket and held it up.

  The silver disappeared from Dominic’s eyes. “From Marissa’s attorney, no doubt.”

  “So you know my mother owns this place?”

  He smiled bitterly. “I should. I’m the one who gave it to her.” He pointed at the sleek leather chairs in the sitting room. “Please.” He turned toward the hall. “Isabelle. We have a guest.”

  A moment later, a slender, lavender-eyed female in a clingy black dress glided toward them. Everything about her looked human, except for her lifeless, unnaturally colored gaze and weirdly plastic skin. “Hello, guest,” she intoned. “Would you like a beverage?”

  “No, thanks.” He eyed the woman as he sat.

  Dominic laughed. “To answer the question undoubtedly in your head, no, she’s not human. She’s a symbot.” He turned to Isabelle. “Lower the shades, please.” He glanced at Damian. “I hope you don’t mind, but even with the helioglazing, the sun is too bright for me this time of day.”

  “That’s fine.” What a surreal conversation. He watched Isabelle while Dominic took the chair across from him. His hair was rumpled and stubble darkened his jaw.

  “I take it I woke you from daysleep. Sorry about that, but I’m surprised. I hardly made a sound.” And most vampires went comatose during daysleep.

  He shrugged. “Years of working at Seven. I sleep when I can and have trained myself to do it lightly. I have… enemies. I’m sure that does not shock you.”

  “No. But I’m not one of them. I didn’t know you were living here.”

  “Few do. Which is what I was striving for.” He nodded to Isabelle as she finished lowering the shades. “That is all.”

  With a soft whirr, she disappeared back down the hall.

  Damian leaned back. “You said you bought this place for my mother?”

  Dominic nodded. “It was our first real place outside of Seven and the safest place money could buy at the time. I had the deed put in her name because…” He smiled. “It was a good gift, no?”

  “You had the deed put in her name because why?”

  Dominic’s smile waned. “Because I knew she would leave me. And I wanted her to have a place to call her own.” He ran his finger along the seam of the chair’s leather. “I tell you this because you deserve to know the truth. You are her child.”

  “But you live here now?”

  “After she bought the estate on Mephisto Island, she sent me a key to this place. She knew I needed time away from Seven, knew how much I had enjoyed spending time with her here.” A hint of a smile returned, but it carried the weight of the past. “It was her way of trying to mend things between us, I think.”

  Damian sat, not knowing what to say. What had Maris done to Dominic that had left him in such pain?

  Dominic sighed like the burden of his years pressed down on him. “I will have my things moved out in the next few nights.”

  “Why?”

  Dominic lifted his head, eyes confused. “You came here to see about taking this property for your own, didn’t you?”

  Damian shook his head. “Just checking out the places on the list.” Dominic had been instrumental in rescuing him. He wasn’t about to kick the man out of a place that held such memories.

  Dominic’s eyes narrowed, doing nothing to hide the sudden spark of life that filled them. “You are a good man, Damian Lapointe. Your mother would be proud of you.” He stood and extended his hand. “If you ever need anything, I am here for you, just as I have been for Chrysabelle.”

  “Good to know.” Damian rose, dug out the key the attorney had given him, and held it out to Dominic.

  Dominic took the key. “Grazie.”

  Damian headed for the door. “I won’t keep this a secret from Chrysabelle, however.”

  “No, no,” Dominic added, walking with him. “There must be truth between the members of a family.” He lifted one shoulder. “She has been here. This is
not such a secret to her anyway.”

  Damian paused, his hand on the door lever. “There is one thing I’d like to know before I leave.”

  “Si?”

  “The vampire Malkolm. Do you trust him? Should I be worried about him and Chrysabelle? He won’t hurt her, will he?”

  “Malkolm? There is nothing to worry about there. I trust few people, but Mal is one of them. And he loves your sister.” Dominic’s eyes took on the faraway look again. “If your mother and I had what he and Chrysabelle have, she never would have left me.”

  Mal’s presence was a comfort, something Tatiana had never expected to feel. Maybe it was because everyone else in her life was gone. Maybe it was his familiarity. No matter what their past was, their history had started well. They had loved one another, hadn’t they? It was hard to remember exactly what her feelings for him had been all those centuries ago. They had at least understood each other.

  Now, they were once again traveling the same path. She glanced at him and smiled weakly, not quite ready to call the maelstrom that was Lilith back into her life. “It’s funny, isn’t it?”

  “What?” He stood across from her, leaning on the bar in that loose, easy way of his, but she knew well that in the blink of an eye he could become a killing machine. How many times in their early days had she seen it happen? Reveled in his ruthlessness? Drank from his spoils?

  She closed the distance between them down to half. “What tore us apart was Sophia’s death. Now we’ve come back together to kill off a child.”

  His heavy-lidded gaze didn’t falter. “Calling her a child is like calling a Nothos a puppy.”

  She laughed softly. “Yes, of course, but you see the irony.”

  “And you see that I’m not here for the mission so much as the end result. I want my status back and the wealth you promised me. An estate of my own. The position as Elder. Forget anything you promised me and you will be sorry.”

  She touched his chest lightly. Playfully. “Your place as Elder is already secured. The ancients promised me I’d be rewarded for this task and their approval on your ascension to that position is guaranteed.”