Violet Abyss (A Blushing Death Novel Book 7)

by Suzanne M. Sabol

  As he met my gaze again, his heart thundered in his chest with the woman’s life-force latching on to him and taking root. I realized then that he’d either drained people to the point of death or taken their lives. Recently.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. He was a predator, as was I. Could I fault him for being who and what he was designed to be? I wasn’t sure. I stared at him with a question churning in my gut. He didn’t flinch away from me but he didn’t offer an explanation either.

  Nathaniel’s eyes grew wide as he heard the same rhythmic thunder I did from Patrick’s chest. Without another word, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head. Reaching up, he jerked Sarah down to the floor with him.

  “Nathaniel!”

  “His HEART is beating,” he snarled at her.

  She stared at Patrick for a long moment, confused. “What does that mean?” she mumbled, glancing between the two men. “He’s undead.”

  “It means that this is our new King. Not even Konyam’s heart beats. There isn’t a vampire walking the Earth that has a heartbeat,” he answered softly. “None. Except him.”

  “He has to be faking it. That’s not possible.”

  “Sarah,” he answered, sounding almost tired. “Can’t you feel how much power is in this room? Not only him. Her,” he said, nodding at me.

  The other vampire glanced my way and nodded begrudgingly.

  Nathaniel turned his attention full on Patrick. “I’m willing to take the blood oath. Now, if that suits you, Sir.”

  Patrick nodded and sliced across the flesh of his wrist with his fangs. Blood pooled there and flowed as his heart continued to beat. Nathaniel gladly took Patrick’s wrist in his grasp and drank. After swearing his oath to Patrick, Sarah agreed to take the oath as well, not one to be left out.

  Once they were finished, Patrick turned to Nathaniel. “Bring as many of your former colony over to me for the oath as you can. I do not want New Orleans degrading into a coliseum type slaughter. I will not wait for other Lieges to step up to the challenge when I am willing. The ineffectiveness of other vampires and their inability to act will not lead to the ravaging of this city.”

  “I will do all that I can, I swear it to you, my Liege.”

  “Okay,” I said, tired and frustrated with the bowing and scraping. I didn’t like being pandered to and I didn’t like others pandering to us. I know it happened quite a bit with the liege/alpha thing but it just rubbed me the wrong way. I was a twenty-first century girl after all. “Let’s really talk about this cup.”

  “The Chalice?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “Where is it?”

  “We don’t know,” Nathaniel said, stepping in front of Sarah as if he could tell I was extremely close to violence. “It never made it here. Raine left with Celeste to retrieve it upon Konyam’s request . . .”

  “He wanted to show it off,” Sarah interrupted. “Raine told him not to, that it was a mistake but he didn’t listen.”

  “Yes, they went to retrieve it from its secure location. We never saw either of them again.”

  There were none of the telltale signs of a lie. Neither had an increase in heartbeat, mainly because they didn’t have beating hearts. There was no dilation of their pupils. Neither of them repeated anything, their statements were clear and concise. And on neither of them, could I scent the stress and change in body chemistry of a falsehood. Plus, once oathed to Patrick, neither of them would be able to lie to him. It wasn’t possible, mystically. They could omit like hell, but not outwardly lie.

  “Well,” I said turning to Patrick, “that was easy.”

  “Easy?” he asked with a doting smirk.

  “Sure, looks like its Celeste. She’s the only one left standing.”

  “Yes,” he said, holding out his hand to me. “But where is she?”

  Chapter 34

  “What are you doing here?” Celeste demanded through gritted teeth. She’d taken great pains to keep this place secret, to keep Raine and her colony in the dark. She’d needed the tiger, in the beginning, but had never imagined the woman could be this stupid. Jeopardizing everything for what? Celeste didn’t even care.

  “It wasn’t hard.” The bitch tapped her nose. “I’ve had my boys on you for weeks. I didn’t want to be left holding the bag. Cavanaugh’s whore murdered Raine, I can’t let that stand.” Savannah’s voice was lilting with a thick Louisiana accent that made her words long and sultry without trying. “Plus,” she continued without really noticing the annoyed glare in Celeste’s gaze. But then again, Savannah was only good for blunt work, no finesse or grace. For all her lithe beauty, the tiger queen was a brute. “Maybe you didn’t know this, but your magic . . .” She paused for effect, a devious smirk on her full lips. “It hides your scent.”

  Celeste closed the door behind her and strode by Savannah, not too close though. It was a testament to Savannah’s stupidity that the Tiger Queen would have this conversation with the front door open. In a heavily populated area of the Quarter, Savannah should have known better. Celeste was tired of dealing with her.

  “I’m aware of that aspect of my power,” she said.

  Her mind wandered back to the first night she and Varick had been together, the first night of her new life. He’d kissed his way down her body, licking and tasting her until he’d come to the juncture between her thighs. His lavender gaze searched and met hers. “Your scent,” he’d breathed. “I can’t smell a thing on you except for this lovely slick bit of you,” he’d said, dipping his head and taking a long leisurely lick until his tongue swirled around the pulsating nub at her core. “I knew you’d be special,” he’d whispered just before delving deeper into her pussy.

  “Well,” Savannah bit out, jarring her from the happy memory. “When you’ve got a bunch of wolves in town and one of them’s a tracker it’s hard to hide the fact that there’s no scents, other than the bodies that is.”

  Celeste’s eyes shot up and her anger boiled over. “That,” she said through gritted teeth, “would have been helpful to know long before now.”

  “I didn’t think it would matter,” she growled. “But, since the ambush at the zoo failed . . .”

  “I told you not to take him there!” Celeste snarled, rage making her hands shake. If this stupid tiger ruined 30 years of planning, plotting, and separation because of her stupidity, Celeste wasn’t sure what she’d do. “Those alligators weren’t hungry enough. They never would be. They live in a fucking zoo and are fed regularly. I have no idea how you got to be queen of anything, especially a streak of tigers!”

  Savannah growled at her, showing her teeth in a threatening grin but Celeste didn’t care. She was too close to their goal to care. “I was more lethal than the other bitches trying to take my position in the streak.”

  “Certainly not smarter,” Celeste bit out.

  Savannah growled and took a step forward.

  “Do you really want to test me?” she asked the tiger. “By the looks of it, you’ve already been beaten down once already this evening. I doubt you want to make it a second time.”

  “It was her!” Savannah screeched, and her eyes blazed green with rage.

  “That’s evident.”

  “It was all her. When I agreed to help you and have Raine take Konyam’s place on the board, you never said anything about that bitch.” Savannah paced back and forth like a caged beast and Celeste was struck again at the woman’s stupidity. She really should just kill her and put her out of her misery. “What’s the plan? I want The Blushing Death dead. I want her in pieces and my streak feasting on her flesh.”

  A calm clarity came over Celeste and she smirked at Savannah. “What you want,” she said, her voice smooth and confident, “doesn’t matter. I will not alter the plans for your idiotic desire for vengeance.�
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  The tiger growled at her again but Celeste paid her no heed.

  “And,” Celeste snarled at the tiger, “if you do anything to get in my way, I will gut you and hang your hide up on my wall as art!” Celeste strode into her kitchen, turning her back on the Tiger Queen. “Now, get out.”

  Celeste plucked the cork from a bottle of 50-year-old brandy and poured herself a snifter. Savannah ground her teeth at being dismissed but said nothing.

  Celeste only needed the tiger bitch for a little bit longer and then she could be rid of her. She’d show her real terror, real dominance. It was only a matter of time.

  Savannah’s lips disappeared into a thin line of hatred. Her shoulders stiffened and her weight shifted to the balls of her feet as if ready to pounce. Celeste wasn’t worried and the tiger knew it. Savannah had seen what Celeste could do. Seen vampires and shifters alike frozen in place but aware, feeling every cut, every piercing of their flesh, every limb lost, and every organ removed. She’d watched as they lay aware and unable to do a thing about it.

  Savannah breathed out, slowly through gritted teeth and walked out of the apartment. Maybe she wasn’t as stupid as Celeste thought.

  As the door closed behind the tiger, Celeste took her snifter and stalked into her bedroom. There, against the far wall, the Chalice of Isis glistened in the muted neon light of the French Quarter outside her window.

  “Now,” she said, taking another sip of her brandy. “Let’s try this again.” She set the glass down next to the Chalice and crouched, tugging a large leather-bound tome from under the dresser.

  The book, if you could call it that, was soft as silk and she took a long lingering breath, relishing the scent of the leather. Most grimoires were bound with lambskin but the really ancient tomes were bound with something else. Something much more powerful. This particular tome was bound in human flesh, and the lingering scent of fear and power could never be driven from the skin. She flipped the tome open, careful not to damage the leather roping that bound the spine in three places. With careful fingers, she turned the papyrus pages to the spell she’d been working for days. She’d done everything right, followed the directions as indicated on the page but she was still missing something.

  She bit her lip and stroked the ancient delicate page. “This has to work. We’re running out of time.”

  Chapter 35

  Patrick and I went upstairs to search Celeste’s room. At the top of the stairs, Patrick followed Sarah down the hall and to the right. “Here it is,” she said, opening the door and stepping back.

  “Thanks,” I said and stepped inside. I flipped on the light and shoved the door open wide. Spartan was the best I could come up with to describe it. There was a bed with nothing but a plain white duvet. It was fluffy but other than that, nondescript. The nightstand had a lamp, clear glass with a silver shade, and a simple overstuffed gray armchair sat in the corner by the window. I opened the closet, hoping for something that gave me some link to this woman’s personality. Again, the clothes were pretty and well-made but nothing quirky or overly flamboyant. It seemed like she was trying too hard to not be noticed.

  “How long was Celeste a part of your colony,” I asked Nathaniel, who’d stayed with us. Sarah had left to tell the others.

  “Almost thirty years.”

  “What do you know about her?” I grilled. “Where did she come from? Is she involved with anyone?”

  He stared at me for a long moment, thinking. “I remember her saying that she came from a master that used her horribly but didn’t go into details. I don’t believe she ever said where she came from but she wouldn’t have needed to tell us. Just Raine.” He stroked his chin in a move that I’d seen a hundred times in 1940’s noir films. “I’ve never seen her with a man or a woman.”

  I strolled across the room and dug through the trash. There wasn’t much, a Pottery Barn catalog, a receipt from Saks for a bunch of La Perla lingerie in the amount of $1,200, and some used wet wipes. I moved to the dresser and opened a few draws, searching for anything at this point. In the second drawer from the top, I came across something interesting. “Patrick, look at this.” He stepped to my side and his presence next to me made my heart race. He slid his hand possessively across the small of my back and glanced down in the drawer.

  “It is lingerie,” he said, confusion in his words.

  “Yes, it is,” I said, digging through the simple Victoria’s Secret filled drawer. “And we’re missing some things.”

  “Oh?”

  “In the trash, there’s a receipt from Saks Fifth Avenue for a bunch of La Perla. Twelve hundred bucks’ worth. Who spends that kind of money on lingerie, real lingerie, if no one is going to see it?”

  “A fair point.”

  “And,” I added, shuffling items around in the drawer, “where is it? Because it’s not here.”

  He glanced down at the lingerie in the drawer and then met my gaze. “It is not possible that she could have had a lover and no one would have known about it. Someone would have smelled the lover on her.”

  “Right,” I said, letting the idea bounce around in my head for a moment. “What if?” I said, walking the room, letting my mind wander. “What if, the lingerie isn’t here?”

  “Dahlia, sweetheart, the lingerie isn’t here,” Patrick answered with a soft, placating grin.

  “Oh, I know that, what I mean is what if she took it somewhere else.”

  “A secret rendezvous location?”

  “It would definitely be easier to mask the scent of a lover if you were washing it off before you came home,” I said, sliding the drawer closed.

  “But why hide it?” Nathaniel asked. “Raine took many lovers. She wouldn’t have had a problem with Celeste taking one.”

  “I can think of only two reasons why you would hide a lover,” I said. “One, you’re ashamed of who the other person is and don’t want anyone to know.”

  “Or two, your compatriots cannot know who your lover is,” Patrick finished for me.

  “Right, and I’m thinking it’s the latter.” I met Patrick’s gaze with what I knew was sheer determination staring back at him. “We have to find her.” Plucking the items from the trash, I slipped them in my pocket. Patrick raised a questioning brow at my actions. “What? I wanna see what Jade can do with this? Maybe she can track the purchase back.”

  He nodded and motioned for me to exit first. We passed Nathaniel and started down the stairs. “Wait,” he called from behind us with an edge of panic to his voice. “What do I do?”

  Patrick handed him his card and continued down the stairs. “Call that number and ask for Alex. She’ll give you further instructions.”

  “Alex doesn’t know you blood-oathed him,” I whispered.

  “Alex is aware of all we’re doing here.” That was it. That’s all he said. No explanation or reasoning. “Alex is aware.” What the hell did that mean? What kind of cryptic bullshit was that? Great! Just fucking great!

  Chapter 36

  Side by side, Patrick and I strode back into our house to the sound of laughter and what I would categorize as roughhousing. Garret and Booker were . . . wrestling in the living room. Surrounding them was a crowd of both shifters and vampires, critiquing, egging on, making bets, and just generally entertaining themselves. I opened my mouth to tell them to stop and then caught myself. I was not their mother and I didn’t want to be that person. If they wanted to hurt themselves, then that was on them.

  Patrick, however, cleared his throat. Nothing too demanding or aggressive but it was enough that all the vampires and werewolves stepped back with sheepish expressions on their faces, at least the ones I could see. Some of them were inspecting the floor intently.

  “I’m sorry, Patrick,” Booker said, wiping blood from his busted lip.

  “No apologies neces
sary, but please move this display outside. You are causing Dahlia some distress about blood in the carpets,” he said with perfect impassivity. Not a hint of humor or teasing affectation was inflected in his tone. Regardless, I felt the amusement bubbling up through him.

  “Oh,” Booker replied, his eyes wide in horror. Suddenly, he was ushering everyone out through the kitchen to the backyard.

  “Wow. Thank you,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I was trying not to be my mother.”

  “You could never be so shortsighted and malicious toward someone you cared about as she,” he said from behind me with complete sincerity.

  In my youth, my mother had encouraged electroshock therapy to relieve me of my “demons.” We didn’t talk much anymore, or . . . ever.

  I drew him in close and placed a soft kiss upon his lips, letting him feel the gratitude welling within me. He stroked my face with his thumb and held me, peering down at me. “They like having you mother them. It’s something nostalgic that brings a piece of their humanity back to them. Most would give their lives just to please you and those that wouldn’t yet, will soon. You invoke that type of devotion in us. Don’t second-guess yourself.”

  I nodded, and with a sigh of both trepidation and relief, headed upstairs to our room. I needed to change my clothes and find Dean. I owed him an apology.

  Opening the door, I found him sitting on the bed, laptop resting on his thighs as he typed away. He glanced up at me, his eyes clear of anger. Even though he smiled at me, something in our mate bond buzzed with uncertainty and irritation. It was a sharp edge that stung as I caressed the power linked between us.

  As I met his gaze, there was a flash of something alien when he looked at me and I didn’t particularly like it. Without hesitation, I strode over to the bed and crawled across the large, orgy-size mattress. I snuggled into him, wrapping my arms around his firm waist and hugged him to me. Taking a deep breath of his woodsy scent, I sighed with pleasure and the unmistakable sense of being home.