Bad Blood (17 page)

Now he was paying the price.

He was back at the front door, but his feet wouldn’t take him inside. “Fi!”

His body turned him around and started moving him around the side of the house toward the garage entrance. It wanted him in the car. He yelled for Fi again as he tried to resist by dragging his feet. “Fi, get out here, now.” Nothing. Dammit. “Velimai! Fi!”

The compulsion was screwing with his head, pushing him back to where he’d felt it the last time. Preacher’s. Under no circumstances did he want to step foot in that freak’s joint without backup. Preacher’s need to protect his child had turned his crazy up to eleven.

Doc searched his brain for some way to fight Aliza off, but in the fog of the spell, the only thing he could think of was to shift.

Like an involuntary shiver, it was upon him and done. In leopard form, he stood on the cobblestoned sidewalk that led from Chrysabelle’s circular drive and connected the main house to the guesthouse and secondary garage. Beneath his paw pads, the stones were warm from the day’s heat. All traces of the compulsion were gone. Shifting had kicked it out of his system like a bad habit. He let the nocturnal sounds roll over him. The low buzz of insects filled the air more than usual. He inhaled and his nose wrinkled at a sudden wash of bitterness. There was only one kind of monster that smelled like that. Vampir—

Leave the property. Go back to where you last felt the compulsion.

The need to warn the people in the house weakened until he couldn’t hang on to it. He took a few steps forward, yowling softly in his throat because it was the only opposition he could manage. There was something he needed to do, to tell Fi.
Go
. He trotted toward the gate, which he nudged open with his big head, then slipped out and started down the road, his direction clear.

The gate clanged shut behind him and the last unaltered thought faded from his brain.

Shifting had made the spell stronger.

T
atiana came back together wasp by wasp as Laurent did the same beside her. They’d left the car parked near a boat ramp in a public park not far from Mephisto Island. If things went as planned, they’d be driving straight to the hangar and be in Corvinestri for breakfast. For now they were on the back edge of the comarré’s property, near the waterline. A few charred pilings were all that remained of the dock. She smiled. That destruction was her handiwork. As was this whole brilliant plan.

The front gate wasn’t visible from here, but her ears easily picked up the sound of the pedestrian entrance opening and closing. As they’d flown overhead, they’d seen the leopard on the front drive headed toward the gate. A shifter no doubt, here to protect the comarré maybe, but he was leaving. Why, she didn’t know, didn’t care. The animal was gone, one less thing to worry about.

Laurent brushed himself off, but his head was lifted, his nostrils widening to take in the air. His fangs were out and his mouth open. “No mistaking there’s a comarré nearby with that scent in the air, is there? Hells bells, I
miss mine.” He gave his jacket a tug. “I cannot wait to be home.”

“Nor can I.” She fished in the bag at her hip and extracted two pairs of earplugs. “Here.” She tossed a pair to Laurent, then wiggled hers into place. The specially designed iron-mesh inserts negated the effects of a wysper’s scream. He put his in while studying the landscape.

They couldn’t get into the house without an invitation, so the plan was to make enough noise to bring someone outside, then use that someone as a negotiating point to get the comarré. Unless they got lucky and the comarré was the one who came out to investigate. The girl was so stupid there was a good chance she would.

Laurent pointed toward the house, then indicated that Daciana should go to one side to make the distraction while he went to the front to capture whoever came out. Tatiana had planned it that way to feed his ego and protect herself. Her metal hand was proof of the comarré’s dangerousness. If he ended up ashed, she’d still have time to scatter and save herself. It was perfect, really.

They headed toward the house together, she with a fat roll of fireworks and he with chloroform, steel cable zip ties, and a body bag for the captured comarré. When the path separated around the pool, they did, too. He had sixty seconds to get into place near the front door before she lit the combustibles near the guesthouse.

Counting off the time, she slipped through the shadows, working her way toward the edge of the property. She started across a small patch of grass. A tiny click sounded when she lifted her foot, a sound so soft she knew human ears would never have picked it up. It hadn’t sounded like an insect, but in this hellish jungle of a state,
who knew. She ignored it and kept going. She heard it a second time when she reached the guesthouse. It seemed like it had come from the grass. She stomped her foot down and ground it into the grass. Whatever was living in there wasn’t anymore.

Tatiana flattened herself against the building, pulling the firecrackers and lighter from her waist bag as she ticked off the last remaining seconds. On three, she flicked the lighter under the fuse. On two, it burst into flame. On one, she tossed it into the yard and ducked behind a windowless part of the guesthouse.

The fireworks went off like gunshots, cracking through the night’s silence and reverberating over the water. Another few seconds into the noise and new sounds emerged from the house. The sounds of movement and scuffling, then the noise they’d anticipated. The wysper’s scream.

Despite the earplugs, it raked through her like sharpened tines until even her fangs ached. The sound was her cue to run, which was exactly what Laurent would be doing. If he wasn’t dead.

She leaped the security wall into the neighboring estate, making her exit from there and speeding back toward the car. Laurent joined her there a few minutes later, a full body bag slung over his bleeding shoulder, the scent of ash thick around him.

“Darling,” she purred. “Did you get hurt?”

“Damn hot blade, sliced right through my shoulder. Going to be a nasty scar.” He patted the limp, female figure shrouded in plastic. “Other than that, the evening went rather well. I managed to get a few licks in myself before bagging our prize.”

Sheer delight sucked a gasp from her. Bloody hell. The prat had done it. She clapped her hands as she imagined Daciana might. “Let me see her!”

Laurent frowned. “Don’t be foolish, Daciana. You know what comarré look like. Get in the car. I want to go home.”

Lola’s skin no longer itched with the desire to flee. No, that feeling had been replaced by vision-blurring anger. She worked to unclench her jaw. “You think this vampire killed my daughter because she thought Julia was you?”

“No, she knows what I look like.” Chrysabelle leaned back in her seat, her mouth a hard, determined line. This was not a woman Lola wanted to be on the wrong side of. “I believe Tatiana killed your daughter to show me she was here, to show me what she would do to me when she had the chance.”

The anger turned red-hot. A
vampire
. What good would a gun do against such a monstrous creature? “My daughter’s life was worth more than being someone’s calling card. Why is this vampire after you?”

“I agree about your daughter’s life.” Chrysabelle bent her head for a moment, sighing, then she lifted her gaze to Lola. “Tatiana wants something I have. I won’t tell you what. To do so would only put you in danger.” Chrysabelle’s eyes stayed focused on Lola like a challenge.

Yes
, Lola thought.
She hides the information from me for
my
benefit
. It made her want to spit. Instead, she kept her composure, such as it was, and focused on the problem of such a creature loose in her city. “I will help you find this Tatiana, then, and kill her. What do you need?”

The comarré shook her head. “We’re not even sure she’s in town.”

Lola slapped her hand down on the chair’s arm, causing John’s eyes to widen. Of course, he’d seen her upset, but never angry like this. Time he learned the extent of her temper. “Then who killed my daughter? The police have told me nothing so far.”

John cleared his throat. “It’s only been two days. I’m sure they’ll come up with something.”

“They’d better.” She exhaled through her nose, trying to find a molecule of calm. “It was this vampire, I feel it.” She jutted her chin toward Malkolm. “You, you’re one of her kind. You know this vampire that killed Julia? How do we stop her?”

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “
We
? You’re human. What do you think you can do?”

“Answer the question, vampire.”

His jaw popped to one side before realigning itself. “I know her well enough. Stopping her is not going to be easy. She’s very powerful. Too powerful.”

Lola stood and walked to the wet bar. She splashed rum into a tumbler and swallowed half of it. It burned down her throat, matching her mood. She turned and leaned against the counter. “Everyone has a weakness. What is hers?”

The comarré looked at the vampire. Creek watched them with interest. Lola could tell they were all thinking the same thing, but from the looks on their faces, they would not be sharing that thing with her. Chrysabelle tucked some hair behind her ear, her gold marks flashing light.

Had Julia looked like that? She’d not seen her daughter
in so long and then to see her lying bloody in the street, torn apart and broken… Lola drowned the image in the remaining rum. The liquid heat seared away the threatening tears. “Well? What is it?”

“Power. She wants power.”

More exchanged glances before Chrysabelle answered, “Which is why she wants the thing she thinks I have. It isn’t in my possession at the moment but it will be. Soon. Which is why I can’t stay here much longer.”

Lola went back to her seat, but only took the edge, putting herself closer to the comarré. “I may be human, but I have my own kind of power as mayor. I have people and resources. I will do whatever I can to bring this monster down. You go and get this thing, then, but when you return, you come back here immediately. Your friends can educate me some more while you’re gone.”

Malkolm’s brows lifted. “First of all, Creek and I are going with her. Secondly, there seems to be an implied ‘or else’ in that statement.”

She narrowed her eyes and met his gaze without flinching. “Or else I will turn this city against you. Declare open season on Paradise City’s newest plague. Vampires, shape-shifters, whatever else is out there. There will not be a moment’s peace. And I will make sure they know you’re the reason.
Comprendes
?”

His eyes flashed sliver like they had earlier but his face stayed human. He would have been beautiful if not for what lurked beneath. His upper lip twitched in a partial sneer. “I understand.”

“Do you?” she challenged him. “Tell me, then.”

“I understand you think you have some power.” The silver faded a little. “I also understand you are mistaken,
but then, like many humans, you have no real idea of what you’re up against until there are fangs in your flesh.”

The words should have frightened her. Instead her pulse surged with an entirely different emotion. One her husband had not aroused in her for many years during their marriage. Was this another of the monster’s powers? She swallowed, tasting the sweetness of the rum on her tongue, and lifted her head with an arrogance meant to match his. “You and Chrysabelle may go, but Creek will stay here. With me. No discussion or I will have him arrested immediately.

“You two will return within twenty-four hours with this
thing
the vampire wants and a plan to take her down or your friend”—she pointed at Creek—“will be charged with Julia’s murder and remanded to the state penitentiary immediately upon arrest. This time, there will be no early parole. I will make sure of that.”

She stood, made quick eye contact with John, then turned and walked away. “You are dismissed.”