Last Blood (46 page)

Preacher picked Mariela up and turned her face away. “You know I didn’t kill Julia.”

Julia. Where was Julia? Pain fogged her memory. She reached out again. The hand in front of her looked… odd. The cuticles were black, the rest of the hand shriveled and gray. She stared at it, trying to understand whom that hand belonged to. Her? That was her hand? The drive to keep moving forward burned in her brain.

The skin burst into flame. A second later the pain exploded through her body. She tried to get to her feet, but her nerves were a melted mess of stinging nettles. “Mariela,” she whispered as her throat filled with smoke and her vision went dim.

Then an incredible lightness filled her. And she turned to ash.

S
on of a priest.” Mal shuddered at what he’d just seen. He was a few yards from the front door and the church’s proximity caused his body to ache more than the silver bullet Lola had put through his leg. He couldn’t imagine the pain of dying the way she just had. One of the fringe guards retched and the rest stood staring, their job of guarding him and Jerem forgotten. He pushed to his feet and not a single one of them did a thing.

Chrysabelle looked up from the ashes that marked where the mayor had been incinerated, tears streaking her cheeks. She swallowed, her body racked as a sob overtook her. Then her eyes met his. She skirted the mayor’s remains as she walked stiffly into Mal’s arms.

He held her while she wept soundlessly, held her until the last sobs left her. Finally she lifted her head. “How could she…”

“Greed. A false sense of reality. Who knows?”

“She said she did it all for Mariela—that’s Lilith’s real name—but I don’t know if I believe her. She seemed as power-driven as Tatiana at times. That poor little girl. At least she won’t be used as a pawn anymore.”

“Mariela’s safe now.” Mal wiped a tear off her cheek. “How’s Preacher?”

“Human. The apple worked.” Chrysabelle swallowed and smiled weakly. “How are you? She shot you?”

“It hurts like hell, but it went straight through. I’ll have a scar, because the bullet was silver, but I’m already healing.”

“Good.” She turned a little and looked back at the church. “Preacher will have to move. He can’t raise a child in an abandoned building.”

Mal nodded. “The mayor never mentioned any other family, so I’m pretty sure Mariela is her only heir. With the inheritance due her, Preacher will have everything he needs to take care of her just fine.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” She took a deep breath and raised her face to his. “We should go home. We have guests coming.”

He smiled. “I’m not sure I like this plan to domesticate me.”

She planted her hands on her hips, pulling her sweater tight across her expanding belly. “Too bad, because as you may have noticed, there’s no turning back.”

He grabbed her hand and turned toward Jerem and the car. “Home. Before she starts making up a chore list.” He helped her into the car.

“Hey,” she said. “That’s actually not a bad idea…”

Tatiana lost track of how many times she’d walked the perimeter of the Garden. In fact, she wasn’t sure she
had
walked the whole thing. The landscape seemed almost to change before her eyes, blooms appearing where there’d
been none before, plants increasing in size, streams narrowing or widening. The place was maddening in its beauty. Frustratingly dense and colorful. For someone who’d lived so many of her years in the subtle gray world of night, this unnatural brilliance without the benefit of sunlight wrought havoc in her brain.

And the idea that there was no way out? Impossible.

Her building frustration needed venting. She tipped her head back and screamed for Samael, even knowing while she did that there was no way he could come to her. Not here. Not to the place of the original sin. He was banned from this place, just as she was chained to it.

She grabbed a tree branch and ripped it free, tossing it as far as her rage could manage. Instantly, another grew in its spot. “I hate this place!” She shook her fists to the sky.

An eternity here would drive her insane. She fell to her knees. Hot, angry tears seared her skin. An eternity here would drive her to her death.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe this was how she would die. Killed by the inescapable splendor of the most beautiful place on earth.

A hawk sailed overhead. If only she was that free. Her tears stopped. She pushed to her feet and got her bearings. The gates were behind her. She ran to the right as fast as she could, finally encountering the wall of trees she sought.

Here, at the edge of the Garden, multiple rows of trunks merged into what seemed to be one giant hedge. She found a low branch and pulled herself up, picking her way through the dense lattice of branches. Higher and higher she climbed, squeezing through narrow slivers of space until she felt satisfied she’d gone high enough. She
inched forward on one thick branch. So far, so good. A tiny spring of hope welled up. Could she escape this way?

Her hand coasted along the branch as she got ready to move farther along, when something sharp and searing bit into her fingers. She yanked her hand back. The ends of her fingers were gone, tiny bits of ash stuck to her skin.

A new wave of pain struck as the flesh began to grow back. She crumpled against the branches, hugging her hand to her body as a pit of desperation opened in her chest.

There was no way out.

Not unless she intended to die.

Within half an hour of Mal and Chrysabelle returning to Mephisto Island, Doc and Fi arrived. Chrysabelle sent them into the living room with Mal since Dominic and Mortalis were already in there. Hopefully, they were adult enough to keep the peace between themselves, although Dominic seemed to have softened toward Doc since he’d become pride leader and lifted the ban on pride members patronizing or working at Seven.

As soon as Damian came back from checking on Amylia in the guesthouse, she and Mal could make their announcement official.

A knock at the door called her out of the kitchen, where she was helping Velimai get drinks. Velimai looked up, questioning.

“I’ll get it. I don’t know why Damian didn’t just come in.” She wiped her hands on a towel and went to answer the door. But the security camera showed a different face than the one she’d been expecting.

She opened the door and slipped outside so whatever conversation was about to take place wouldn’t disturb her guests. “What do you want?”

Creek held up his hands. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just wanted to tell you I’m not Kubai Mata anymore.”

“You’re not?” He did seem different. Perhaps a little worn around the edges, like he’d had a few hard days and nights. And yet, there was a lightness about him she couldn’t recall seeing before. “How did that happen?”

He laughed a little, staring at the ground. “My grandmother. And Dominic.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m free of the KM and I thought you should know.”

“I’m happy for you.” She smiled. “Happy that we can be friends again. What are you going to do for work?”

He tipped his head back toward Dominic’s sedan. “My new employer’s already here.” His smile faded. “Look, I didn’t mean to interrupt. You obviously have something going on and I wasn’t invited, so let me get out of your—”

“Creek. Hey, how are you?” Damian grinned as he walked toward them from the guesthouse. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Creek shook his head. “I’m not. Just leaving.”

“Stay,” Chrysabelle said. “There’s no reason for you not to now.”

He glanced up. “You sure?”

“Yes. Come in.” She led the way and when he and Damian were seated, Mal came to join her at the front of the room. She let him speak first.

Mal slipped his arm around her waist before he began. “As you know, the bond between Chrysabelle and myself has grown significantly over these last few months.”

“We noticed,” Fi said. “Mainly because you stopped trying to kill each other.”

Mal laughed along with everyone else. “No promises there, especially since we’re about to enter a new…” He looked at Chrysabelle. “Stage? Phase? I told you I’m no good at this.”

She took his hand. “What Mal’s trying to say is that we’ve decided to get married.”

The reactions ranged from Fi whooping to Doc pumping a fist in the air to Creek’s open-mouthed shock.

Dominic nodded, clapping enthusiastically. “
Molto bene
. When do you propose to make this official?”

“Soon,” Mal said.

Chrysabelle nodded, her hand going to her belly. “Because I’m pregnant.”

The room went instantly quiet. Until Fi leaned back and announced, “I already knew.”

“So did I.” Creek shook his head. “So does the KM, but I swear I had nothing to do with it. They told me.”

Mal looked at Chrysabelle. “You were right about Kosmina.”

She looked back at Creek. “Do you think the KM will leave us alone? Leave our child alone?”

He took a breath. “I don’t know, but your child isn’t going to be a threat to them. And”—he looked around the room—“you have a lot of powerful friends.” Then he tipped his head slightly. “What about protecting this baby from Tatiana? If you have a plan to get rid of her and you need help, I’m in.”

“Thank you, but Tatiana has been taken care of,” Chrysabelle answered. “She’s been imprisoned in the Garden of Eden by her own hand. Any attempt to leave, any
breach of the Garden’s boundaries and she’ll die. She’s no longer a threat to any of us.”

Creek exhaled. “Good. I’m… happy for you.” He looked at Mal. “For both of you. You deserve it after what you’ve been through.”

“Thank you.” Mal looked around the room. “To all of you. We wouldn’t be here without you. We’ve shared losses together. Fought battles together. It’s only fitting we should also share this joy.” He laughed. “I’m still not used to that word applying to my life.”

“Joy is a good word, bro,” Doc said. “And it’s about time you got some.”

Chrysabelle smiled and hooked two fingers in the front pocket of Mal’s jeans as she continued to talk. “You’ve all become our family.” Her other hand cradled her belly. “We already know this won’t be an ordinary child. We’re going to need your help. We hope you’ll still be there for us.” At the sight of the solemn expressions staring back at her, she laughed. “What I’m really saying is getting babysitters for a half-vampire, half-comarré child isn’t going to be easy.”

Laughter answered her. She looked at Dominic, then Doc. “Mal and I really want you two to put the past behind you and come to some kind of peace. We can’t have our child’s godfathers fighting with each other.”

Fi nudged Doc with her elbow. He nodded. “I’ve already lifted the restrictions Sinjin set in place. If Dominic shows some kind of good faith on his end, I’m ready to move past everything that’s happened.”

Dominic stroked his chin. “Allowing your pride members access to Seven was a big step for you and I appreciate it. What kind of good faith do you want me to show?”

Doc glanced around the room. “I’m about to announce a new council member. Police Chief Vernadetto.”

“A human?” Mal asked. “That is progressive.”

Doc shook his head. “Vernadetto’s not human. He’s a rare type of varcolai, but he’ll make that announcement soon enough.”

Dominic held his hands out. “I don’t understand what this has to do with me?”

Doc continued. “When Vernadetto makes his announcement, he’s also going to lay the groundwork for his mayoral campaign. He plans to run against the mayor in the next election. I want you to endorse him.”

Dominic nodded. “Done.” His expression went strange. “I have a feeling he’ll win without much trouble.”

As the two men shook hands, Chrysabelle nodded. “You’re absolutely right. Mostly because the mayor’s dead.” Mal’s arm went a little tighter around her waist. “She basically killed herself trying to get her granddaughter away from Preacher, who, by the way, is no longer a vampire.”

“She was too long on hallowed ground,” Mal added. “Went to ash right in the middle of that church he lives in.”

Doc grimaced. “I understand trying to get her granddaughter, but at the cost of her own life? That’s harsh.”

Dominic cleared his throat. “I believe my nephew may have played a part in that. I found some things missing from my laboratory and when I asked him about it, he confessed he’d been feeding the mayor’s comar vitamins that were laced with certain alchemical substances. He purposefully tainted her comar’s blood to weaken her mental stability in hopes that she would cause her own end.” He shook his head. “Apparently, he was successful. It was his way of making things right with me.”

For a long moment, no one said a thing. Finally Chrysabelle spoke up. “I guess we’ve dropped enough bombs for one night, huh?”

A chorus of voices agreed with her.

Fi stood. “Well, after all that news, I could use a drink, even if Chrysabelle can’t join us in the alcoholic stuff. Who’s with me?”

The somber mood was broken with several affirmative answers. Mal kissed Chrysabelle’s temple as laughter and talk filled the room. She looked up at him. “I think we’re going to be all right.”