Read Last Blood Online

Authors: Kristen Painter

Tags: #Fiction / Fantasy

Last Blood (21 page)

BOOK: Last Blood
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“Never heard of that kind,” Fi said. “What else can smokesingers do?”

“Done,” he said to Chrysabelle. She turned as he pointed to Fi. “You’re up.”

Fi took Chrysabelle’s place. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Fi,” Chrysabelle admonished. “Augustine’s a little busy.” And clearly didn’t want to answer anyway.

She sighed. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious? I’ve never met a smokesinger before. Especially not one as interesting as Augie.”

Augustine smiled as he blew smoke over Fi. When he finished, he said, “Let me take care of this, and then I’ll show you something.”

“Cool.” Fi looked at Chrysabelle. “See? Never hurts to ask.”

With a shake of her head, Chrysabelle went back into the suite to strap on her sacres. As she left the bedroom, Jerem called out from the kitchen where he was washing up from dinner.

“Hey. You sure you don’t want me to go with you? I will. Gladly. Just say the word.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that, but your coming to help with transportation was enough. Besides, according to Augustine someone needs to stay here to guard the mirror in case the elektos figure out what’s going on and try to do
something.” She leaned against the counter. “Not to mention I don’t want to endanger anyone else if I can avoid it.”

He racked a wet plate to dry. “Understood. No one will touch that mirror, I promise.” He lifted his chin toward the balcony. “I don’t think Augustine’s as much of a slacker as he makes himself out to be. Covering you with that smoke? He knows what he’s doing.”

She looked out where Augustine and Fi were finishing up. Jerem’s assessment made her feel a little better. “Too bad I don’t.”

“Just remember why you’re doing this.” Jerem drained the sink. “When I was in the military, focusing on my reasons for being there was what always got me through. You’re strong and capable and you’ve faced tougher obstacles.” A flicker of his inner bear danced golden in his eyes. “If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

She smiled. “You give a good pep talk.”

The balcony door slid open and Fi and Augustine came back inside. Fi was almost bouncing with excitement. “Okay, let’s see your trick.”

“It’s not a trick,” he said. Still, he waited until Chrysabelle and Jerem came over. “I’m doing this only once.”

Fi nodded, almost gleeful. “Do we need to stand back?”

“No. Just watch.” He put his hands together, fingertip to fingertip, then slowly drew them apart. Tiny gray threads spun out between them. Then Chrysabelle realized it wasn’t thread, but wisps of smoke.

“Holy crap, that’s cool.” Fi leaned in.

The lines of smoke began to twist and curl between Augustine’s fingers until the shape became recognizable.

“A rose,” Fi breathed in awe.

The form solidified further, and then Augustine flicked his wrist, breaking the connection. With that free hand, he grasped the stem. The moment he touched it, the stem went green and deep lavender filled its petals. He handed it to Fi. “Now you know something a smokesinger can do.”

While she sniffed it, he looked at Chrysabelle. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He pulled a mirror off the wall and set it on the floor in front of them. “All right.” He held a hand out to her and Fi. “Take my hands.”

They did. Chrysabelle was surprised at how rough his skin was for someone who supposedly did nothing.

“Here we go.” He stepped onto the mirror and pulled them through.

Chapter Twenty-three

T
atiana paced. Back and forth, back and forth, across the Persian carpet of her sitting room until she saw nothing but the problem in front of her. Mal should have been here by now, shouldn’t he? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he wasn’t coming at all. That meant she’d have to find a way to kill Lilith on her own. Was that even possible? The only ones who might know were the Castus, but would they tell her?

There was only one way to find out.

“Samael, my liege,” she whispered. “If you can hear me, come to me
alone. Please
.” Just saying the word grated her nerves, but fear overruled all else. She sank to the floor, her hands clasped in her lap, and spoke the words again. “Please, Samael, I need you and only you.”

The room darkened with encroaching shadows and filled with the stench of brimstone. Never before had something so vile filled her with such relief.

He appeared before her, smaller than she’d ever seen him. More like the height of a man than the lord of darkness. His horrible visage, once a mask of terror, seemed… aged somehow. Tired. “What?” he snapped.

“Thank you for coming, my lord. Are you alone?” She looked behind him. There was no sign of Lilith, but that might not mean anything.

“Yes. Briefly. What do you want?” The skirt of shadows that draped him from the waist down bore none of the usual faces or reaching hands.

“It’s about—”

“Don’t say her name.” He reached a hand out and placed it on Tatiana’s head, weighing her down like a lead weight.
I know of whom you speak
.

His words echoed in her head. She stared at him.
I can hear you. In my head
.

And I you. What would you ask me of Lilith? I know that’s why you’ve called me
.

Tatiana nodded as best she could with his taloned fingers pressing into her scalp.
She… scares me, my liege. She killed one of my best soldiers without provocation. Do you mean for her to take my place? If so, I ask that you spare my life. I will leave without argument, just let me live
.

We do not mean for her to take your place
. Something that sounded very much like a groan followed his words.
Neither did we mean for her to have so much power. She has become… more than we desired
.

That was all the opening she needed.
Is there a way to remove some of that power? I have always been your willing servant
.

There is only one way to deal with her. She must eat of the fruit of the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden, a place we cannot go
.

But I can?

Yes. Not only can you enter, but the Garden will
always be night for you. Whatever you need it to be, it will be
.

Then I will go. Just show me the way. I will do whatever you wish me to
.

He nodded and held out his other hand. A worn scroll appeared in it.
This map bears the runes that will open a portal to the Garden. Draw a circle with your blood, then write the runes inside it with your blood as well. A portal will open. When you go through, this map will show you how to find the tree you seek. She must go with you and eat the fruit there, as it cannot be removed from the Garden
.

She took the scroll, the paper crackling in her hand.
When I am ready, I will call for her
.

He took his hand from her head and stared into her eyes. “Do this and you will be greatly rewarded.”

“I want your assurance you will approve my choice of Elder.” She nodded.

“Granted.” He leaned in, his red eyes piercing into hers with what could only be distress. “Do this
quickly
.”

“Yes, my liege,” she whispered, but he was already gone.

Dominic sat back in his chair. Life was good, for the most part. His relationship with Katsumi was stronger than ever, in many ways due to her help on the recent mission to Čachtice. And since he’d given her
navitas
so she could be noble instead of fringe, she’d done nothing out of line. She had become very much the companion he’d always hoped her to be.

Luciano, despite having done the unthinkable in siring the mayor, was working out well. Revenues were back up
since the curfew had been lifted. Just then, a soft roar rose from the Pits, muted by the French doors behind him that opened onto the balcony overlooking the fighting arena. He nodded at the sound. In fact, revenues had never been better.

He knew part of that was because Maddoc had lifted the long-standing ban on pride members patronizing Seven. That Maddoc would do such a thing with the bad blood between them spoke to his strength as a leader.

Dominic tapped his gold pen on the desktop. Perhaps it was time to make peace. He tapped the screen of his tablet and scrolled through his suppliers list. A gift maybe. To show he was open to reconciliation.

Someone knocked on his door. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He reached for the blade he kept hidden under his desk. “Come.”

Jacqueline, the slender brunette who acted as the house mother for his stable of comarré, poked her head in. “Mr. Scarnato?”

Even her tone was worried. He took his hand from beneath the desk and gestured toward a chair. “Come in, Jacqueline. What can I do for you?”

She shut the door behind her and walked toward him, wringing her hands. “I think something bad has happened.”

Inwardly he groaned.
Mamma mia
, some nights, the comarré were more trouble than they were worth. “If there is fighting again, there will be punishment. You know I cannot abide the constant—”

“No, that’s not the problem.” She dragged in a breath. “I haven’t seen Ms. Tanaka since last night. I was supposed
to go over the quarterly numbers with her, so I tried her office. The door is locked, but she’s not answering.”

“That doesn’t mean anything bad has happened.” He pulled open a drawer. “I have a spare key.”

“None of the comarré or floor staff have seen her since last night either and none of the doormen remember her leaving.”

Dominic set the key on his desk and shut the drawer. “Come to think of it, she hasn’t checked in with me either.” Katsumi never went home without saying good-bye. He picked up the key, a sense of unease settling in his belly. “Come, we’ll go open her office together. I’m sure she’s just hard at work.” But he wasn’t sure at all.

He went as fast as he could without alarming Jacqueline. By the time they got to the office, a thousand scenarios, both good and bad, had worked through his head. He tried the knob, but it was definitely locked. He rapped his knuckles on the door. “Katsumi, are you in there? Answer me if you are.”

But he was greeted with silence.

He notched the key into the lock and opened the door. It hit something metal as he pushed it open. A bitter, familiar odor rose up to greet him. He didn’t need the lights, but he flicked them on anyway, not wanting to believe his eyes. Her
kanzashi
, the one he’d given her for protection right before they’d gone to Čachtice, lay on the floor.

Covered in ashes.

Chrysabelle gasped, prepared for whatever might happen. Then she realized they were already through. “That was fast.”

Augustine dropped her hand. “That’s why we travel that way.”

Fi looked a little dizzy. “I’m going ghost.”

“You should,” Augustine said. “And you should stay that way until you’re back out.”

She nodded, instantly ghost and now hovering so she was eye level with him.

Chrysabelle glanced around but there wasn’t much to see. The fae plane resembled an endless gray field capped with an endless gray sky. Here and there drifts of fog obscured the horizon with more gray. Wind moaned in the distance, a lonely, eerie sound that made her shiver. “Not what I thought it would look like.”

“This is the landing for the Claustrum. There’s a lot more to the fae plane than this.”

“How do we get into the Claustrum?”

“Turn around.”

She did. “Holy mother.” A great black rock formation towered over them. An entrance was carved into it, the edges of it guarded with slivers of jagged stone pointing toward the center. “Those look like… teeth.”

Fi whimpered.

Augustine nodded. “They are.”

She didn’t ask from what. She didn’t want to know what creature had grown teeth that large.

“It’s meant to intimidate any fae brought here.”

Fi hovered closer to Chrysabelle. “Mission accomplished.”

He started forward. They followed. The closer they got, the more she could pick out a path between the teeth. And the more the stink of unwashed flesh and refuse reached them.

Fi wrinkled her nose. “This place smells really, really bad. Like fish left in the sun. Then covered with sewage. And vomit.”

Chrysabelle nodded. If she didn’t keep it together, she’d be adding to that vomit. “Breathe through your mouth, that’s what I’m doing.” She slanted her eyes at Fi. “Why are you even breathing? You’re in ghost form.”

Fi’s face was all twisted up. “I’m not breathing, but I can still smell it. I feel like I’m soaking in it.”

Augustine kept moving, winding through the jagged teeth until they came to an enormous silver gate. He pointed to the ground beyond it. “See that path?”

Chrysabelle stared, shaking her head. “No.”

“Close your eyes for a bit so they adjust to the darkness.”

She did, annoyed at how much her senses were depleted. When she opened them again, she saw what he was pointing at. A faint phosphorescent strip about two feet wide disappeared into the tunnel. “Okay, I see it.”

“Stay on it. Do
not
deviate until you find the raptor.” He looked at her. “Repeat what I just said.”

“Stay on it. Do not deviate until we find the raptor.”

BOOK: Last Blood
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