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Authors: Kristen Painter

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BOOK: Bad Blood
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Lola placed her mug on the table and pushed back in her seat until she sat straight up. “Yes?”

Vernadetto dragged his fingers through his close-cropped
salt-and-pepper hair. “Perhaps you’d rather discuss this in private.”

Without a glance at Havoc or Creek, she answered, “No. Go on, please.”

The chief sighed. “The ME found elevated levels of human chorionic gonadotropin in your daughter’s blood.”

“What does that mean in English?”

He made eye contact with her briefly, then broke it to stare at the table. “A few weeks before your daughter’s death, she gave birth.”

With Octavian and the surprisingly willing Daciana at her side, Tatiana, now blissfully in her own skin, strolled back into the salon to confront Laurent. Daysleep tugged at all of them, but things had to be taken care of. After only a few minutes of conversation with Daciana, Tatiana had revised her previous plan and brought Daci, as Tatiana found her new acquaintance liked to be called, into the fold. Daci might prove to be an exceptional asset. Provided she was as trustworthy as she claimed to be. If she wasn’t, and the next few minutes went poorly, she would not get a second chance.

Octavian went ahead of them and pushed open the doors. Laurent stood, his face brightening into a well-pleased smile despite his obvious tiredness. “My lady.” He sketched a short bow, then held his hand out to Daciana. His smile faltered as he took her in. “Did you change? I don’t recall your blouse being blue.”

She shook her head as if saying,
Not now
.

Octavian closed the doors behind them, as Tatiana faced Laurent. “Be seated. We have much to discuss, and I’m sure you’re as eager to sleep as we all are.”

Without waiting, she took a chair. Octavian sat beside her as Daci and Laurent settled into their seats. “Laurent, Daciana did not accompany you to New Florida. I did.” She paused, waiting to see his response. Daci’s gaze was fixed on him as well.

“What? That’s impossible. She was with me the whole time.” He frowned, studying his wife for a brief moment before looking back at Tatiana. “Is this some sort of test? I’m too tired for games.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is a test.” Sitting made her want to lie down, so Tatiana stood and walked to the bar. “My powers are great. They allow me to mimic anyone I choose. I took on Daciana’s appearance and went with you to Paradise City. Daciana remained here.” She poured a glass of wine for herself, then lifted the bottle toward Octavian. She’d rather have blood, but this would have to do for now. “Would you care for a glass?”

Laurent sputtered to life. “How can you offer him wine after telling me such a thing? Explain yourself. Why would you do this?” He stood, his gaze flicking from Daci to Tatiana. “If you harmed my wife in any way…”

In a nanosecond, Tatiana set the bottle down and flew to face Laurent head-on. “Do not threaten me, Laurent. You’re not in any position to make such statements.” She thrust her metal hand against his chest, putting enough force behind it to push him back into his seat.

He popped up as quickly as he’d gone down. “Now see here, I did as you asked. I brought back the comarré.” His eyes silvered around the edges, narrowing as they took her in. “Which is more than you were able to do on your previous trips.”

All traces of humanity left her face as she bared her
fangs in a hiss. “You’re a bloody fool, Laurent. A pompous, prattling fool.” She leaned in, hating that she wasn’t tall enough to stare down at him. “You brought back the wrong comarré.”

He deflated a centimeter. “What? No. I did exactly as—”

“Oh, be quiet, Laurent, will you? Or do you just enjoy the sound of your own voice that bloody much?” Daci snorted softly in disgust. “You just can’t stand taking orders from a woman, can you?”

He whirled to face her. “How dare you speak to me that way.” His hand cocked back as if to strike her.

Daci flinched. Octavian jumped up, moving with extraordinary speed, and restrained him. “If you think you’re going to hit a woman in my presence, you’re dead wrong.”

Laurent snarled. “Take your hands off me, vampling.”

Daci leaped to Tatiana’s side like a frightened doe. “Please, I just want to be done with this. With him.”

“What are you talking about? Let me go or I’ll thrash you within an inch of ashing.” Laurent struggled to get free of Octavian’s grasp. “Now, vampling.”

“Not a chance.” Octavian’s face colored with the exertion.

Laurent had years of strength on him, but Octavian was fed and rested. Still, chances weren’t good Octavian would be able to hold him much longer. Tatiana gave Daci one last out. “You’re sure?”

Laurent wriggled an arm free. Eyes metallic with fear, the petite blonde put a chair between her and her husband. “Yes.”

Tatiana stepped in front of Laurent, drawing his attention and his ire. “Because you’ve failed me as a potential
Elder and have been an abominably wretched husband to Daciana—”

“That’s a bloody lie—”

“—your services as both are no longer required. But because of your standing in the House of Tepes, I shall allow you a dignified out. Tomorrow morning, unable to face your failings, you’ll walk into the dawn and meet your fiery end.”

“Like hell I will—”

“Now,” Tatiana commanded.

Octavian shoved Laurent forward. At the same time, Tatiana thrust her prosthetic hand out, turning her fingers into a razor-pointed stake. It found its target in Laurent’s chest, piercing his heart. His eyes went wide, his mouth rounded into an O, and then he was ash, floating to the floor. Daci let out a sudden solitary sob. Tatiana returned her hand to its usable state and shook the debris off it. “At least that’s what I’ll tell the council when I see them in St. Petersburg tomorrow.” She turned to Daci. “Get some sleep. The plane leaves at dusk and you’re going to be on it with me. You’re about to become the second female Elder of the House of Tepes.”

Daci blinked, her fingers touching her lower lip. “I can’t believe I’m free.”

Tatiana laughed as she stepped over the ash pile and made her way to the door. “I wouldn’t exactly say you’re free, Daci. You’ve just traded one master for another.” She paused, her hand on the knob, smiling to soften the blow of her words. She knew how Daciana must feel to finally be her own person after so many years. “Not to worry. I have great faith that you and I are going to get along famously.”

And if they didn’t, if Daciana did something to lose Tatiana’s trust, well, that was easy enough to take care of, wasn’t it?

If not for the slow-moving gate letting her back into Chrysabelle’s estate, Fi would have raced up the driveway and screeched to a stop in front of the house. It was exactly what she felt like doing, but the best she could manage was to slam the door when she got out. “I should have known.”

Damian closed his door more gently. “Daylight hours aren’t the best for speaking to a vampire. You’re right—we should have known.” His long legs ate up the ground, putting him in step with her. “But that wouldn’t have stopped you from trying, would it?”

“No,” she grumped. “At least the cops weren’t having any luck either.”

“Doesn’t make you feel any better, though, does it? Wish you could have kicked down that door and forced him to see you, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She looked at him. “You’re all right for a…”

“Comar?”

“Guy.” She hit the doorbell, surprised Velimai hadn’t already opened it for them. “Most of the guys I know aren’t big on talking about feelings and stuff like that.”

“Maybe you need to meet more guys.”

“No, I like the one I have just fine.” Fi smiled, unable to help herself. Was Damian coming on to her? It was sweet. Especially since the last time a guy hit on her, she’d been totally alive. Damian knew about her ghosty side—he’d just seen it when she’d had a little freak-out at Seven—and
he still wanted to take a chance? Definitely sweet. But definitely not happening. Doc was the only guy for her.

Her smile disappeared. Not getting a clue as to his whereabouts sucked. Fi punched the doorbell a second time. “C’mon, Vel, open up.”

At last the door swung wide, Velimai behind it. She signed something, too fast for Fi to catch.

“Slow down, I don’t understand.”

D-O-C-D-O-C-D-O-

“Doc? You know where Doc is?” Fi almost grabbed Velimai’s hands, remembering at the last minute about the wysper’s super-scratchy skin.

Yes.
Velimai pointed upstairs.
First room
, she signed slowly.

Fi took off, not waiting for more info. Damian ran with her and together they skidded to a stop on the marble floor outside the room Velimai had indicated. Fi opened the door and went into the guest room. A sleek, black leopard sprawled on the bed.

“Doc!” Fi ran to his side and wrapped him in a hug.

His big head came up, his golden eyes blinking in her direction. He pushed his head against her arm and exhaled through his nose, blowing warm air over her skin.

“I’m happy to see you, too.” She kissed his head.

He made a whuffing sound, then dropped his head to the bed again.

Fi sat up, finally noticing that Velimai had come into the room as well. Fi looked at her. “He feels hot. Really hot. Is something wrong?”

Velimai pointed to her arm, then to Doc.

Fi checked his front leg. A long, scabby gash ran the length of it. Fi turned back to Velimai. “What happened?”

The wysper shrugged, put down the towel she held, and picked up an e-tablet and stylus. She scribbled a note, then held it up for Fi to see.
Arrived in leopard form. No idea what happened. Fever. Smells of brimstone.

Fi’s insides went cold and she could feel herself wavering between corporeal and spirit forms. She knew two creatures that carried that stink. Neither was good news. “Is he going to be okay?”

Should be
, Velimai signed. She wrote a second message.
He needs to rest/heal enough to shift human again. Then he’ll explain.

Fi nodded, stroking Doc’s silky fur. “Okay,” she said softly, lying down beside the big purring beast. “But I’m staying with him until then.”

Chapter Twenty

C
hrysabelle couldn’t help but stare at Mal the way the tourists stared at her. He walked toward her, in all his dark and beautiful glory, lit by the blazing Louisiana morning sky. It was like something she’d dreamed, not that she was prepared to admit that to him. She could barely admit it to herself. A few of the women set up to tell fortunes paused from laying out their cards to gawk as he strolled past their tables. Chrysabelle wanted to tell them to mind their own business.

Instead, she bent her head and sipped the tall cup of chicory coffee Mortalis had picked up at a nearby café. She had no place to feel that way about Mal. No place. She glanced at the fae, who, because of the amount of iron fencing surrounding Jackson Square’s abundantly green park, stood a little farther away nursing his own cup of java.

“Started to wonder if you were going to show,” Mortalis said as Mal approached.

“I had a little incident,” Mal answered, closing the gap between them. He looked to his left at the soaring façade of the St. Louis Cathedral. “We had to meet on this side of the square?”

“Can you feel it?” Chrysabelle asked, tipping her face in the direction of the magnificent church.

He nodded. “Like ants on my skin.”

“I know the feeling.” Mortalis nodded toward the wrought-iron fence. “That thing makes me feel like I’m chewing tinfoil.” He lifted a finger from his cup to point toward the street that bordered the river. “Tell me about this incident while we walk.”

As the three of them started around the square, Mal spoke. “Couple of fae on patrol. Smokesingers, maybe. They took the bribe like you said they would.”

“Describe them.” Mortalis lifted a hand to greet a street performer, a man dressed head to foot in silver clothing and matching face paint and moving like an old-time robot.

“Short gray horns, silvery skin”—Mal pointed back at the man Mortalis had just waved to—“not that silvery, but close. And lavender eyes.”

Mortalis nodded. “Those were definitely smokesingers. Cousin to the shadeux, but they don’t really get dangerous until they go through their first burning. If the ones you saw still had gray horns and not black, they hadn’t. They might not have even been a real patrol. Just juvies shaking you down in the name of the law.” He frowned. “You shouldn’t have anything else to worry about so long as we’re together.”

BOOK: Bad Blood
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