Last Blood (42 page)

Behind her, Mal made a sound of disbelief.

“So you and my mother were… that is…” She shook her head, mostly to empty it of the images starting to form there.

“No.” His gentle smile eased her discomfort. “Conception was never physical. That’s not necessary for my kind.”

“Did my mother know?”

“No. None of the comarré chosen to bear children knew about their angelic partners, or do to this day.” He looked at Mal. “It’s a necessary secret and must remain so. Can you imagine if the nobility knew the comarré living in their homes were direct descendants of their embittered enemies? The ancients would have every one of them murdered.”

Mal put his hand on her back. “So why tell us?”

“Because if there is anything you both excel at, it’s keeping secrets, and this is one that must be kept.”

“What about Damian?” Chrysabelle asked. “Can I tell him?”

Michael thought for a moment. “I would prefer you didn’t.”

“Again,” Mal said. “Why tell us at all?”

Michael sighed. “Because I will not be able to see Chrysabelle again after today. Her relationship with you… complicates things.”

Mal growled. “Are you trying to say I tainted her?”

“Mal.” She turned slightly and rested her hand on his chest, trying to stave off the sudden spark of fear that he might challenge Michael. And lose.

“You cannot pretend not to understand the ramifications of the two of you being together.” The sudden fierceness in Michael’s eyes erased all previous softness. “I am the leader of the heavenly armies. Even the appearance that I might be acquainted with a child of my fallen brethren is unthinkable.” He held up his hand when Mal opened his mouth. “Your child, however,
will
know me. And you will never be without whatever protection I can manage.”

He turned to look back at the Garden. “Although I don’t imagine you’ll need much of that now.” His gaze landed on Mal again. “I know you love her. Take the utmost care of her and this child she will soon give you.”

“Or what?” Mal asked, challenge ripe in his question. “You’ll kill me?”

Michael spread his wings, blocking out the view of the garden behind him. “No.” He smiled and nodded at Chrysabelle. “She’ll do that herself.”

Mal snorted and the tension between them dissipated. “Duly noted. It’s not like she hasn’t already tried.”

Chrysabelle exhaled. She’d never felt quite so exhausted. “Thank you for telling me who you are. And for everything else.” She glanced at Lilith, still being entertained by Eae, and a thought occurred to her. “If I’m never going to see you again, there is one thing I’d like to ask of you. A favor.”

Michael thought for a moment, then nodded. “What do you desire?”

She tilted her head toward the Garden. “The fruit that turned Lilith into a child again… would it restore the humanity to any vampire in a similar situation?”

He shook his head. “It will not work for Malkolm.”

“I’m not asking for him.”

Michael thought for a moment, glancing back at Lilith and Eae. Then he nodded. “It would.”

“Would you allow me just this once to take one with me? I give you my solemn vow it will be used for the purpose intended and nothing else.”

“If it isn’t, that person’s life will be forfeit.”

“Understood.”

He held out his hand to her. In his palm appeared one of the gleaming black apples. “This will be one more secret between us.”

She smiled and took the apple. “Thank you, Father.”

Michael stepped back and lifted his eyes skyward for a moment before nodding at her. “Peace be with you.” He glanced at Eae, shifting their attention to the guardian. “Peace to you.”

“Peace to you,” the other angel responded, enfolding Lilith in his wings at the same time as a burst of lightning and booming thunderclap shattered the silence. Chrysabelle
cringed at the sudden noise. When she looked up, Michael was gone.

Eae opened his wings and Lilith giggled. Apparently, he’d shielded her from Michael’s raucous departure.

Mal’s cool fingers laced through hers. “You okay? That was a lot of heavy information.”

“I’m fine.” Mostly she was. Processing everything Michael had told her might take a few days. Her father was an angel. Not just an angel,
the
archangel. She was about to make the leader of Heaven’s army a grandfather. With a half-vampire child. Heavy didn’t begin to cover what she was feeling.

“You think Lilith will remember any of this?”

“I don’t know. If she does, someone’s going to have to explain it to her someday.”

Mal squeezed her hand. “This was one strange trip for all of us. And considering the things we’ve seen, that’s saying something.”

“Mm-hmm.” Her hand went to her belly as a spell of light-headedness made her wobble.

Mal caught her in his arms as she leaned into him. “What’s wrong? You just went white. Are you sick? Is it the baby?”

“I’m just tired is all. Growing the first human-angel-vampire hybrid isn’t easy.”

He smiled, then quickly wiped it off his face when she scowled at him. “I can’t imagine it is.” He picked her up in his arms, something she’d normally protest, but normally, she didn’t feel like she was on the verge of passing out. “Where’s that portal?”

Eae stepped forward, holding Lilith’s hand, and pointed. “Under the sand.”

“Thanks.” Mal leaned down and put his mouth to her ear. “Let’s go home, mama. For good this time.”

She smiled as her eyelids drooped. “Best idea you’ve had.”

“Doppelgangers are extinct,” Doc said. Maybe they
should
have looked at those files. Vernadetto might have something mental going on.

“Are you sure?” Fi asked. “What is a doppelganger? Like that evil twin thing?” She glanced at Vernadetto. “Are you evil? You don’t seem evil.”

“No, I’m not evil and doppelgangers are
not
extinct. Not that it matters.” The man lowered his head. “I should go.”

Doc wasn’t about to let him drop this bomb and leave. “You can’t just tell us doppelgangers exist, you are one, and then split. You owe us some kind of explanation.”

With a long exhale, Vernadetto leaned back and put the envelope next to him. “I know doppelgangers are real because I come from a long line of them. My family has done everything in its power to kill the line. We don’t marry other varcolai. We do our best not to reproduce. And we never, ever let the change take over.”

“Why? What exactly is a doppelganger?” Fi’s eyes were as big as streetlights. There was no way she was letting this drop. He knew his girl too well.

Vernadetto answered. “It’s kind of like what you said, Fiona, a twin, but a doppelganger is actually a rare form of varcolai.”

She glanced at Doc. He nodded. Rare was an understatement.
She looked back at Vernadetto. “So you can shift?”

Vernadetto sighed. “Into any type of creature we want so long as we know what it looks like.”

“Holy crap.” Fi squealed, a noise Doc recognized as barely bottled excitement. “You mean you could turn into Doc in his leopard form? Or me when I’m a ghost?”

He nodded, doubt clouding his eyes. “Exactly like that.”

“Double holy crap.” Fi grinned. “That is wicked cool.”

Doc laughed. “She’s right. It beats my being a leopard all day long.”

Vernadetto shook his head. “It’s not cool at all. It’s horrible. The being we mimic usually dies within a few days of contact with us. We’re like… omens of death. It’s why my family has kept the power hidden and tried to erase the line. We never shift. Never. That’s what the amulet is for. It reflects our own image back to us so that the urge to change is virtually removed.” His fingers went to the chain. “There’s some deeper magic than that involved, but those are the basics.”

Fi patted his hand. “Denying your nature is no way to live your life. Your power can’t be all bad.”

He stood and paced to the other side of the room. “I became a police officer to do some good with my life.” He stopped at the windows and looked out onto the city. “I have no intention of doing anything to harm the life I’ve built as a human.”

“What if we knew someone who might be able to help you?” Doc asked.

Vernadetto turned. “Like who?” Doc held out his hand and let the blue flames erupt from his fingers. Vernadetto drew back. “I thought that was… taken care of.”

“Not taken care of so much as I learned to control it. Barasa’s got a shaman’s background and some higher education on dealing with othernatural issues. He helped me. He could probably help you.”

Relief washed over Vernadetto’s face, but it was fleeting. He turned back to the windows. “I’m a cop. I know what the pride charges for
services
like that. I can’t afford that kind of help.”

“You can if you’re a member of the pride,” Doc said. “Then it wouldn’t cost you a thing.”

Vernadetto laughed bitterly. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but—”

“About that offer I mentioned.” Doc leaned forward. “It would make you an honorary member of the Paradise City pride.”

Vernadetto looked at him. “How is that even possible?”

Fi laughed, unable to contain herself. “You have to say yes.”

His expression softened when he looked at Fi. “I don’t know what it is yet.”

“We need you,” Fi said.

Doc nodded. “She’s right. We do.” He paused. Vernadetto had to agree. He was exactly what the pride needed to regain confidence in Doc’s leadership. “I’d like you to become one of my council members.”

Vernadetto stared at them. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, duh,” Fi said. “Say yes.”

He smiled. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

D
ominic arrived exactly when he said he would, his sleek sedan pulling quietly to the curb outside the machine shop. Creek leaned against the building near the entrance. Mortalis got out first and opened the door for Dominic. With his dark suit and precise grooming, he stood out in this section of town like a Rottweiler at a cat show.

Mortalis tipped his head to Creek. He nodded back. Maybe he’d ask the fae to be his second, because he certainly wasn’t asking his mother or grandmother. Neither of them needed to be responsible for carting his dead body out of here if it came to that. Which he prayed it wouldn’t.

Dominic buttoned his jacket as he approached. “Surely we aren’t doing this out here?”

“No. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t attract any extra company.” Creek rolled back the machine shop’s heavy door. “Come in.”

He shut it again after the vampire and the fae entered. “Everything turn out all right?”

“
Si
.” Dominic pulled out a small glass vial from his jacket and held it out to Creek. “This will protect you.”

“Thanks.” He took the vial, turning it so the cloudy liquid inside sloshed. He twisted the top off. “There’s something else.”

“
Si?
”

“I need a second for the fight. Someone to take care of things if the outcome doesn’t go my way.” Creek put the vial to his lips and drank. Tasted like chalk. “I wouldn’t ask this of you, but I was hoping Mortalis might do it.”

The fae nodded, but Dominic spoke. “It will be handled. Neither of us is leaving until this is over.”

“I didn’t think you were going to stay.”

Dominic smiled. “And leave my new investment alone? Not yet I think.”

Creek tossed the vial toward the kitchen sink. It shattered against the stainless steel. Dominic wanted to see if his investment was going to live or not. Understandable. “What if she makes eye contact with you?”

“Mortalis and I have taken the necessary precautions.”

Creek pointed to the sleeping loft. “Regardless, you might want to watch from up there.” He pulled his phone out and checked the time. “She’ll be here soon.”

A knock rang out from the door.

“Or now.” As Dominic and Mortalis headed upstairs, Creek went to let Annika in. “Right on time.”

“This isn’t something to be late for.” She came in, phone in hand. She tapped the screen as he secured the shop again. It lit up with a document. She held it out to him. “I need you to read this and press your thumb to the signature box when you’re done.”

He took the phone. “What is it?”

“Your termination agreement.”

He scrolled through it. Page after page flew by. “Give me the bullet points.”

“You agree to hold harmless the Kubai Mata in any past, present, and future events. You agree to deny all knowledge of them and their operations, as they will of you. Furthermore, you understand that any and all subsidies provided to you by the KM will cease to exist the moment you sign off.”

“Una’s scholarship?”

“As discussed, it terminates at the end of her current semester.”

“But not before.”

“Not before.” She nodded at the phone. “It’s all in there.”

At least that would buy him a few months to scrounge up the plastic to pay that bill. “What about the brands on my back?”

She scowled. “We’re not the comarré, Creek. I’m not going to cut them out of you if that’s what you’re asking.”

Yeah, actually, it was. Good to know. He lifted the phone. “Anything else in here I need to know about?”

“The KM has the right to call on you in the future, but you also have the right to refuse. If you agree, you’ll be paid on a case-per-case basis.”