Last Blood (40 page)

Vernadetto’s head snapped up. “What the hell? After everything I’ve done for her?”

Fi laughed reassuringly. “That’s what we thought. Anyway, Creek and the mayor aren’t exactly getting along these days. He gave us the file. All the info he’d collected on you.”

Vernadetto started to breathe through his mouth. “I don’t like this. He had no right. He should have given that to me.”

“I agree, but he gave it to us because he knew we might need a bargaining chip.” She smiled and shook her head. “Obviously, everything worked out with Remo and we didn’t. We wouldn’t have anyway. Your business is your business. And I promise you, neither of us has looked at what’s in the file.”

He calmed, but stayed wary. “You haven’t?”

She pulled the large envelope out from under the sofa and placed it on his lap. “It’s still sealed.”

Vernadetto clutched it, but kept it on his lap. He stared at the single
V
written in pencil on the front. Seconds ticked by in silence.

Doc cleared his throat. “Based on what Fi told me, I’m sure you’re a remnant. You know what that is, right?”

He nodded, still mute.

Doc tipped his chin at the envelope. “After you digest what’s in there, Fi and I would like to talk to you again. Make you an offer.”

Vernadetto said nothing.

Fi bit her lip. “Are you mad because I told Doc about you? Please don’t be, Pete. With all this going on, I couldn’t not tell him. And I swear, we just want to help you.”

Vernadetto inhaled a deep shuddering sigh. “I’m not mad at you and I don’t need to open this.” He raised his head and looked Doc squarely in the face. “I already know what I am.”

Creek turned the engine off before he hit the turn that would take him to his grandmother’s house. He coasted, then hopped off and walked the bike in. She’d be asleep by now, his mother probably an hour or two from getting home after her shift at the hospital, but the sooner he did this, the sooner he could be free. Or as free as a man could be who’d just sold his soul to a new devil.

Unless leaving the KM wasn’t the right thing to do after all.

A soft light shone from the back of the house and he smiled as he parked his bike. The earthy tang of cigarette smoke told him Mawmaw was up and waiting. Once again, she’d known he was coming. Tucking his helmet
over the handlebars, he ran a hand over his Mohawk and said a prayer that she’d know what to do. She always did. She was his rock when everything else was quicksand.

She deserved a grandson who was around more, able to help her when she needed it, not one who was off doing the bidding of a shadowy organization hell bent on… whatever they were hell bent on. The KM and their damn money. At least they made it possible for him to provide for his family that way. How would he replace that money if he left? That was the thing that weighed heaviest. He could handle prison again if he really had to, but leaving his family broke was unacceptable, especially when their financial situation had been caused by his legal troubles to begin with.

He skirted the house and went around back. Mawmaw sat in her rocker, the faint light from the cherry of her cigarette brightening her face more than the gas lantern sitting on the railing. Pip curled at her feet. The dog lifted his head enough to sigh, then went back to sleep. Creek nodded at her. “How are you, Mawmaw?”

“Good.” She exhaled, the smoke pale in the lantern’s light. “You should sit. You have a lot on your mind.”

He took the rocker next to hers, his body as comfortable on the worn wood as in a feather bed. “I have a decision to make. One that will color my future.”

She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out in a thin stream. “Go on.”

“The organization that freed me—”

“The ones who make you hunt the blood eaters.”

“Yes, them. They also make me do other things. Things I’m not happy about. Things that have hurt people I call friends.” An owl hooted. He stared out at the swamp.

“But?” she said, waiting.

“But they’re also the ones who made Una’s scholarship happen. The mortgage payment the bank gets for this house every month? That’s not from me. It’s from them. The raise mom got after I joined them…” He shook his head. “They own me.”

She turned to look at him, anger in her eyes. “No one owns you, Thomas. You’re a child of this land. Remember that.”

He nodded. “I know, Mawmaw, but telling them I’m a child of this land isn’t going to mean squat. They expect my service. It’s the price I agreed to.”

She looked away from him and crossed one arm over her body to prop up her other elbow. “What are you here for if you have all the answers?”

“Because I don’t have all the answers. Especially now. What I do have is an opportunity to get free.”

She raised her brows like she knew there was more to it. Because she did know. She
always
knew.

Damn it. “Free of
them
, anyway. It would mean aligning myself with another who could be just as bad.”

She ground out her cigarette in an old coffee cup filled with sand. “You battle two wolves. One known, one unknown, but both are wolves.”

“How do I know which one is the most dangerous?”

“If you refuse to attack, which one will attack you first?”

He sat silently for a moment. There was no way the KM would let him ignore their directives. Dominic on the other hand would probably rather keep some kind of working relationship between them. “The wolf I know.”

She nodded slowly. “Then that is the one you must kill.”

“What about the money?”

Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “There is always a way. Now go, kill the wolf before it kills you.”

“Okay.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

She slipped her hand out from under his, reached into the pocket of her house dress, and pulled something out. “Here,” she said, holding her closed fist over his hand.

He turned his palm up.

She dropped three waxy, dime-sized disks into his hand. “You’re going to need those.”

He pinched one between his fingers. They were hard and rough. “I almost forgot to ask about them.”

She pulled out another cigarette and lit it up, making him wait. After an inhale, she released a few smoke rings. “They’re what you came here for. Basilisk scales.”

He squeezed them tight in his hand. “I love you.”

She smiled. “I know.”

C
hrysabelle held tight to Lilith’s hand. Panic tingled down to the tips of her fingers. Tatiana was almost herself again. “What are we going to do? How many times do we have to kill her?”

Mal glanced back the way they’d come. “Maybe we should just run for it.”

“And have her follow us?” She shook her hand. “No way. This ends here. It has to.” She nodded toward the tree. “The angel guarding the gate said nothing can be removed from the Garden. She’s got one in her pocket. Maybe if she tries to leave with it, he’ll kill her.”

Mal nodded. “It’s worth a shot. As soon as she’s herself again, we’ll run and let her chase us. I’ll take Lilith.” He scooped her into his arms.

Chrysabelle nodded. “Good.” Tatiana would probably use the child for blood if they left her. She shuddered at the thought.

Lilith patted Mal on the head, but it didn’t faze him. “Anything’s better than Tatiana having her, although I don’t know if the mayor will still be interested in Lilith now that she’s human again.”

A ragged breath left Chrysabelle’s lungs. Completely real again, Tatiana walked toward them. “Here she comes.”

Mal turned, putting himself between Tatiana and Chrysabelle. “Stop right where you are.”

“Why should I listen to a thing that comes out of your lying mouth?” Tatiana kept walking. She thrust her hand forward like she was going to make a sword out of it, but it was flesh now. Healed by the tree, maybe. She frowned and shook her fingers, but they stayed fingers.

“Because I have a deal for you.” Mal held his ground. “And you’re apparently out of weaponry.”

A deal? Chrysabelle wished she knew what Mal had planned, but she trusted him.

“That’s rich. You have a deal for me.” Tatiana stopped and put her hands on her hips. “And for your information, I’m happy to have my real hand back.”

Mal ignored her comments. “Let us take the child and Chrysabelle won’t stop you from taking fruit from the tree back to Corvinestri with you.”

Tatiana bent in laughter. “Oh, that
is
good. The comarré’s going to stop me? She couldn’t even kill me.”

“No, but she
does
have weaponry and she could spend the rest of eternity lopping your head off. That’s got to hurt, and who knows, that apple you ate might run out at some point.” He hefted Lilith a little higher onto his hip. “What do you say?”

“I say you’re a liar and not to be trusted.”

“The life of a child is at stake, Shaya.” At the use of her human name, the snarl left her face and a flicker of sadness filled her eyes. Mal nodded. “You know
me well enough to understand that, in this, I speak the truth.”

She swallowed. “I still want the comarré dead.”

Chrysabelle exhaled hard. “The feeling is mutual, you—”

“Understood,” Mal interrupted. “But that’s for another time and place.”

Fi shook her head. “But you said you didn’t know what you were.”

“I know,” Pete said quietly. “I didn’t want to lie to you. You really do remind me of my niece and you’re such a sweet kid. Plus, you had enough to deal with. You didn’t need to know the city was being protected by a freak.”

“You’re not a freak,” Fi said. Not that she knew what he was, but honestly, what could be considered freaky these days? “Doc changes into a leopard, I’m a ghost, the city’s lousy with vampires and fae and other varcolai. I can’t imagine what you could be that makes you think you’re stranger than any of that.”

He sighed again and looked at Doc. “You’re lucky to have this one, you know.”

Doc nodded. “I know. That’s why I married her.” He smiled at Fi.

She winked back, not really wanting to change the subject. “Pete, this whole building is filled with full-blooded, feline varcolai. A remnant isn’t going to scare anyone.”

Pete laughed. “Like I said, sweet kid.” He bounced the envelope on his knees as if weighing the contents. “I’m not a remnant. I’m full-blooded.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a gold chain. A well-worn, highly
polished gold disc hung from the end. At the circle’s edge was an inscription too small for Fi to read. “This keeps me from changing. I’ve worn it since I was fourteen.” He swallowed. “Since the first and last time I changed.”

Doc caught Fi’s gaze. His eyes were full of questions. She gave him a small nod, then returned to Pete. “It’s beautiful. It looks very old.”

He dropped it, not bothering to hide it beneath his shirt again. “It is. Passed down to me from my grandfather, the last of us to manifest the change before me.”

She leaned in. “Pete, what are you?”

He moved like he might get up. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Doc snorted. “You realize whom you’re talking to, right? This is your chance to get this off your chest, bro. You’re among friends. I swear it on the life of this pride.”

Pete seemed to consider Doc’s words. He nodded. “Okay. It would be nice not to keep this secret any longer. Maybe you could even help me.” He shrugged. “Not that there’s much use for someone like me.”

He leaned over and stuck his hand under the table lamp. “What do you see beneath my hand?”

Fi looked closely. “Nothing.”

“Exactly,” he said. “I cast no shadow.” He inhaled and lifted his chin, his gaze flitting between them. “I’m a doppelganger.”

O
nce Tatiana had agreed to Mal’s proposed deal, he’d put Lilith down and told her to hold Chrysabelle’s hand. Now the little girl walked with her as she led the way back to the gates of the Garden. Mal followed behind, acting as a buffer between them and Tatiana in case she changed her mind about their strange truce. If she was able to leave with the fruit, their only other hope was that she’d be killable, permanently, once they got her outside the Garden. She glanced back, meeting Mal’s eyes, trying to let him know with a look that she understood his plan.