Last Blood (14 page)

Creek lifted his head, not sure he’d really heard what she’d said. “What? How?”

“When he drank from me, his full strength returned and he was able to scatter again. Except when he scatters, he turns to smoke. He escaped into one of the storm drains with a few burns.”

Creek sat back, a little angry but mostly relieved. “Thanks for letting me think he was dead.”

“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t exactly on our side.”

He nodded. “You’re right. I probably wouldn’t have told me either.”

“Is your grandmother all right?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He rubbed a hand over his Mohawk. “Speaking of not being dead, Octavian’s in town. He’s come to work for the KM here since he can’t be of use in Corvinestri anymore.”

Damian tensed. “What the hell? That bastard works for you guys? Does the KM know he used to beat me whenever Tatiana told him to?”

Chrysabelle shot her brother a pained look. “You never told me that.”

“What was the point? I thought he was dead. But now…” Damian turned back to Creek, jabbing a finger in the air. “You tell him to stay out of my path. I’m not under Tatiana’s thumb anymore, and KM or not, he’s going to pay for what he did to me.”

Creek nodded. “I hear you. Right now, he’s working with the mayor, helping us keep tabs on her, so he’s got no reason to contact you.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll be perfectly honest; I have my doubts about him but I’m still KM and those doubts are strictly off the record.” Damian’s info only added to those reservations. “On the record, I’m sure he only did what he had to in order to keep Tatiana from being suspicious.”

“I saw the pictures,” Chrysabelle said. “What he did to Damian was above and beyond necessary.”

Damian snorted, but otherwise kept quiet.

“I’m keeping as close a watch on him as I can,” Creek said.

Chrysabelle inched toward the edge of the sofa. “Anything else?”

Before answering her, Creek glanced at Damian. He seemed lost in thought. “Just that… I’d like us to be friends again. If that’s possible. I don’t plan on being KM longer than I have to, but right now, quitting’s not an option. I promise that if there’s anything I can do to help you, I will. I feel like I owe you that much.”

She nodded. “I appreciate that. That probably wasn’t easy for you to say.”

He shrugged. “Doing the right thing isn’t always easy, but it’s still the right thing.”

She stared at him then, a strange, almost sad expression on her face. She smiled, but it too seemed sad. He felt like he should understand more about the way she was looking at him than he did. “Thank you.” Her quiet answer did nothing to ease the sense he was missing something important.

“Something you want to tell me about?”

A quick shake of her head and whatever had been bothering her was gone. “No. Everything’s fine.”

She was a bad liar, but he understood whatever was on her mind wasn’t something she was ready to talk about. “Okay, well, you know how to reach me if you need me.” He got up to leave.

“Creek?”

He stopped and waited.

She looked away for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought. “There is something you could do for me.” When she glanced up, her eyes held the same sense of loss he’d seen in his mother’s when the judge had announced his sentence.

He sat back down. “What is it? I’ll do whatever I can to help.” She deserved that much.

Her fingers twisted together. “It’s about Mal. I can’t go into detail but he’s not himself. He’s… sick right now and the sickness is letting his darkness get the best of him. I’ve got the situation under control for the moment so there’s no reason anything bad should happen, but if you see him out on the streets…” She swallowed. “He’s not the Mal you know. He’s dangerous.” Her eyes met his again. “Please, keep him from doing something stupid. And don’t hurt him any more than you have to. I need a little more time to get him better.”

Creek nodded. Maybe it was better he didn’t know the details. “I’ll do what I can.”

She smiled halfheartedly. “I know it’s your job to protect the citizens of Paradise City. Try to think of Mal as one of those citizens who needs protecting from himself.”

He stood. “You’ve got my word. I’ll let you know if I see him, okay?”

She bent her head. Was she crying? “Thanks,” she whispered. “And if I can’t get him better…” Her voice broke.

“You want me to—”

“No.” Her head came up, eyes sharp and liquid. “If it comes to that, I’ll take care of him myself.” She looked away again. “I owe him that much.”

The plane’s landing barely registered. Tatiana knew she’d arrived but the numbness of the last few days had erased the small sensations from her notice. She moved through the fog with as much purpose as she could manage, but the task before her was daunting. Bigger than anything she’d tackled alone before.

Which was why she had come to Paradise City to make
a deal with the man who’d saved her from the gallows when she was human. The man who’d turned her into the creature she was today and who she’d cut a swath of destruction through Europe with centuries ago. The man who’d been her husband and had since become her immortal enemy.

Malkolm Bourreau.

“We’ve landed, my lady.” The fringe pilot stood beside her seat.

She nodded.

He stayed there, tipping his head slightly, trying to make eye contact. “What would you like us to do?”

She got up, but couldn’t find the energy to focus on him. “Stay in the hangar with the plane.”

“Yes, my lady.” He went back to the cockpit.

Pulling herself up a little taller, she took a tiny scrap of fabric from her pocket. One of the guards had found it at Syler’s estate. It matched the coat Mal had been wearing the night he and his whore had tried to steal Lilith from her. The fabric was little more than a few threads, but it was all she had to go on. She walked to the back of the plane and opened the bedroom door.

The Nothos she’d secured there raised its stinking head.

She held the fabric out. “Find this vampire.”

The creature inhaled, nearly dragging the shredded bits into its nostrils. “Yes, my lady.” And with that it took off, its loping gait carrying it through the plane and down the steps in a few strides. Tatiana scattered into a swarm of black wasps and followed it out of the hangar and into the night.

They went for miles, the Nothos running without tiring, stopping only to affirm the trail, then taking off
again. An hour passed. Maybe two. If the creature didn’t find Mal soon, she might have to seek shelter from the sunrise.

Then it stopped. Tatiana came back together beside it. “Here?”

It lifted one unnaturally jointed arm and pointed. “There, my lady.”

She gestured behind her. “Take cover in that warehouse. Stay there until I need you.”

“Yes, my lady.” It loped away.

She inhaled. The stink of petrol and oil and rotting sea life almost hid the dark spice of vampire, but it was there. Hands on her hips, she stared at the abandoned freighter and a little of the numbness faded from her body. This encounter could very well end up with her death. She pulled the locket around her neck free from her clothing so that it could be seen. Mal would know what it was and that reminder might buy her a few minutes. Then she started up the gangplank.

Thoughts of her fine home filled her head as she boarded the ship. She’d come to offer him the life of his comarré in exchange for his help, but perhaps money would do more good. Judging by his living situation, he could certainly use it. Didn’t the comarré have any money? Why wasn’t she taking care of him? Or perhaps things were not that way between them. She ran her hand over one of the railings. Flakes of paint and rust rained into the water below. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a hard bargain to strike after all.

Making her way cautiously inside, she kept her senses open for any sounds of movement. If Mal found her and killed her before she had a chance to explain…

Dim solars offered a little light here and there. Enough for her to pick her way, but the ship’s interior was a maze of stairs and turns, four-way crosses, and dead ends. She inhaled again, finding his scent a little stronger and, this time, mixed with blood. She went after that. Blood was easy to follow, even though she’d fed from Aaron before she’d left.

Down a long hall she spotted an open door. Soundlessly, she made her way toward it and peeked inside. Mal lay on the bedroom floor, looking very much like he’d been dumped there. She nudged his leg with the toe of her boot.

Nothing.

She nudged harder. Still no response. She grabbed his arm, picked it up, and let it drop. It hit the floor with a dull thud. She’d never known him to be such a sound sleeper. She kicked his thigh. “Wake up! How can you daysleep when it’s night?”

He still didn’t move. Frustrated, she bent down and sniffed his open mouth. Sweet but a tiny bit bitter at the same time. “Bloody hell.” Laudanum. Who had drugged him? Well, there was only one way to bring him out of it besides waiting for it to wear off on its own.

She tossed her jacket aside, pulled her sleeve up, and bit into her wrist, then held it over his mouth, letting the blood trickle in. When the wound closed, she did it again and was about to do it a third time when he came to. She jerked back into the shadows of the room.

He sat up and reached for his head, growling softly. He rolled his shoulders as if testing his body. “Damn it, not again.”

“Exactly how often does this happen to you?”

A microsecond later, he was on his feet, his hand around her throat. Her feet dangled off the ground. “What the hell are you doing here? Did you do this to me?”

“I woke you up. I didn’t knock you out.” Her instinct was to shift her metal hand into a stake and turn him to ash, but she needed him. Instead, she held her hands up where he could see them and forced herself to remain calm. “Some thanks for saving you from your drug-induced coma.”

He snarled, eyes reflecting silver. “Sounds like something you would do.”

“It does, but I didn’t.” She tried to make a sincere face. “I’m here to offer you a deal.”

“A deal? With you? You’re the one who cursed me. Why should I have anything to do with you?” He scowled. “I should run you through right now and be done with it.”

Sincere changed to pleading. “At least let me tell you why I’ve come first.”

“And give you a chance to kill me first? I don’t think so.” He squeezed her throat tighter.

“Please,” she croaked out. “I know we’ve had our difficulties in the past—”

“Difficulties?” He snorted.

“I swear on Sophia’s grave, I come in peace.”

He bared his fangs at her. “How dare you invoke my daughter’s name?”

“
Our
daughter’s name.” She swallowed and lifted her chin as best she could. “I would never use her name for false purposes. I swear it. I’m offering a truce.”

He stared at her for a few seconds, then relaxed his grip slightly and lowered her enough so that her toes touched the floor. His hand stayed on her throat. “Go on.”

“In exchange for your help with one small matter, I promise to leave your precious comarré alone.”

He laughed, his body language calming a little. “Why should I care what happens to her?”

Tatiana raised her brows. This was new and different. “So you don’t then?”

“No. I’m done with her.” He leaned in until his body pinned hers to the wall and all she could focus on was his face. And the hard length of his body against hers. Old, human memories surfaced. She swatted them down and tried to focus on what he was saying. “But she’s my prize to take, understand?”

“Completely.” Not at all actually, but she nodded anyway, her chin bumping his hand. So he was done with the comarré but she was still off-limits? Curious, but an opening was an opening. Tatiana slipped her hand up to cup his face. Hades help her, but she still found him attractive. Maybe more so now that she knew he wasn’t smitten with the comarré. “Malkolm, we used to be so good together. We could be that way again. Help me and I’ll restore your noble status. You can return to Corvinestri with me. Rule as my Elder. You’ll never want for anything again. Power, money, blood, as much as you want whenever you want it.”

A long moment passed. He dropped her to the ground and stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her. “What exactly do you want from me?”

She reached up to rub her throat but stopped before she showed weakness, resting her hands on her locket instead. “It’s about the child whom you and the comarré came to take from me.”

A flicker of silver crossed his gaze then disappeared. “What about it?”

“She. As you know the ancients took her from me.”

“And you want me to get her back.”

“Not exactly.” She dropped her hands from the locket, settling one on the dagger at her waist. “I want you to kill her.”

T
he
thump-thump-thump
of wings beating the air grew louder, but Creek was expecting Annika, so after his initial glance to confirm it was she, he stayed crouched on the rooftop where he’d set up his surveillance point.

Behind him, the sounds of her touching down barely registered. She squatted next to him, her wings now tucked away. “We have a problem.”