Out for Blood (12 page)

“Why can’t I remember any of this? I remember going to the club, but that’s it.” She jerked her head up and pounded her fist on the table. “It’s the Aurelian all over again.”

Velimai got up to start the dinner dishes.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep all day. I need to be out there, looking for Damian and this runaway vampire.”

Velimai shot her a look that said the decision to let Chrysabelle sleep had been in her best interests.

“Well, you shouldn’t have.” Chrysabelle ran a finger through the condensation on her water glass. “Does Doc even know that vampiress might be after him?”

Velimai shrugged.

“You’re a lot of help.” She stood and threw her napkin onto the table.

The wysper turned from the sink, soap bubbles dripping off her fingers. Tension creasing her face, she flung the suds off and signed,
Don’t take your anger out on me. Deal with what’s going on instead of ignoring it, and you might get some answers.

“Deal with it? How? Acknowledging I’ve got some kind of power that resurrects me isn’t going to help me understand it.”

Find someone to talk to. Someone who can explain what power the ring had.

“You have any suggestions as to who this magical person might be?”

Velimai was wavering between solid and vapor form now, a sign of her upset. Chrysabelle didn’t care. She was afraid of what was happening to her, and that fear made her want to lash out, no matter who she hurt.

Talk to Mortalis.
With that, the fae stalked out of the room, leaving the dishes, and Chrysabelle, behind.

“What’s he going to tell me that I don’t already know?” Chrysabelle plopped back down into her chair. She huffed out a few breaths, a little of her anger going with them. She shook her head, disappointed in herself. Velimai didn’t deserve her harsh words or crankiness.

She marched up to Velimai’s quarters and knocked lightly. “Vel, I’m sorry. Open the door so I can apologize.”

The wysper opened the door and crossed her arms, waiting expectantly with one brow lifted.

“I’m sorry I snapped.” Chrysabelle sighed. “Truth is, I’m scared. Scared of what’s going on with me, scared I’m not going to find my brother, scared of trying to become something more than comarré even though it feels like learning to walk on legs that don’t belong to me. I’m… well, in Fi’s words, freaking out a little. But you don’t deserve to take the brunt of that. Forgive me?”

Velimai smiled gently and nodded.
Apology accepted. And I’m serious about talking to Mortalis. He’s very well connected. I’m sure he can find someone to explain the ring’s powers to you and how having that gold in your skin is affecting you.

“Okay, I will. I’m going to visit Mal, but first I’ll swing by Seven and see if I can get a few words with Mortalis.” She hesitated. “I know I’ve never come right out and said this, but I really appreciate that you stayed on after my mother died. You’re like family to me and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you.”

Velimai’s smile got bigger and she swiped at her eyes.
That gold in your skin really is changing you.
She winked.
Now get. I have dishes to do.

Chrysabelle started toward her rooms to gather a few things before heading out, then stopped. “Why didn’t Mal and Fi just stay here last night? It had to have been close to sunup.”

Velimai pursed her lips.
I told them to stay, but he refused. Said the last time he’d been here when you’d woken up, things hadn’t gone well and if you still wanted to apologize to him, you knew where to find him.

“And he thinks I’m stubborn.”

He did at least let Jerem drive them home, though.

“I guess that’s something.” Chrysabelle shook her head as she and Vel went in different directions. Mal would have his apology tonight, and with Mortalis’s help, maybe they’d soon have a better understanding of what the ring’s power was doing to her.

On the way to Seven, Jerem filled in some details from the previous night, including that Fi had asked Mal why they hadn’t just stayed at Chrysabelle’s instead of racing the sun home. Mal hadn’t answered the question, prompting Fi to denounce him and all other men as pigheaded jerks. Unfortunately, Jerem had no other insight into what had happened at Bar Nine other than what Mal had told him, which was basically the same as what Velimai had told her.

The scene outside Seven was crowded, as usual, but one of the bouncers motioned her forward. She recognized him as Tec, the brother of the dead wolf varcolai Mia.

“You’re Doc’s friend, right?” he asked.

“Yes, and you’re Mia’s brother.” How awful to lose a sibling. “I’m so sorry about what happened to her.”

“Thanks.” Sorrow filled his eyes, then morphed into something else. “You here to see Dominic?”

“No, Mortalis. Is he here tonight?”

“Sure, I’ll take you in.” He unclicked the rope and let her through as he addressed one of the other doormen. “Back in a few.” He kept pace beside her as they entered. “Big news about Doc becoming pride leader, huh?”

She nodded as the door swung shut behind them, leaving them alone in the foyer. “Big news.”

A flicker of wolf blue shifted through his eyes. “Word on the street is things got pretty exciting at Bar Nine last night.” His gaze said he knew more but was fishing.

“I guess it did. Thanks for your help. I’m sure I can find Mortalis on my own.” She slapped her palm against one of the dragons painted on the interior double doors and pushed through.

Tec went after her, stepping into her path. “I heard a comarré was killed there last night. And that a noble vampire came out of nowhere, turned into some kind of black-skinned monster, and ripped the heart out of her attacker.”

Scanning the club for Mortalis was impossible with Tec’s broad body in her field of vision. “I’m sure Doc’s dealing with the situation.” But why hadn’t he controlled it better?

“It’s been dealt with according to pride law. Same as pack law, a life for a life.” His eyes narrowed. “But if one of those deaths wasn’t really a death, the situation becomes unbalanced.” He got a little closer. “A life is still required.”

She stroked the red leather sacre straps crossing her chest. “Are you warning me or threatening me?”

He backed up. “Informing you. Do with it what you will, but know that it’s going to be dealt with.” He held his hands up. “Not by me. But Doc’s got a lot to prove as the new leader.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the front door, Tec?” Mortalis raised his brows in question as he came to a stop at the wolf-shifter’s side.

Tec nodded, his eyes on Chrysabelle. “Headed there now. You have a good night.” He shoved back through the doors.

“What was that all about?” Mortalis asked.

Chrysabelle exhaled a long sigh. The weight on her shoulders never got lighter. “I’m not even sure where to start.” She tried to smile. “How are you?”

“Better than you by the looks of it.” He tipped his head into the club. “You want to talk somewhere private?”

“Love to.”

A few minutes later, he escorted her into a tiny room with a narrow desk and two chairs. “Welcome to my office. Formerly the broom closet.”

“I didn’t even know you had an office.”

“I didn’t until a day ago. Luciano, Dominic’s nephew, thought I should have my own space. Such as it is.” He pulled the chair from behind the desk and set it beside the other one, motioning her to sit.

When they were both settled, she began. “I’m going to summarize as best I can. I’ve died twice in the last few days. The first time was when I last visited the Aurelian, and most recently last night. When this happens, I lose all memory of the event and typically pass out for a day or so. Mal thinks the ring of sorrows never lost its power when it was melted down and stitched into my skin and that its power is the reason death doesn’t seem to be a permanent thing for me anymore. Velimai thinks you might be able to connect me to someone who can tell me exactly what power transferred into me.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up a finger. “There’s more. Mal might be in trouble now because he killed the shifter who killed me last night, and as you can see, I am no longer dead. This whole thing apparently happened in front of a crowd at Bar Nine, so covering it up isn’t really an option. Let’s see, what else… oh yes. The vampiress who was being held captive in the freighter’s hold? Gone. And she took Damian with her. The kicker to that is, Mal says Damian’s name is the last thing I uttered before I woke up after being killed by the Aurelian.”

“Well.” Mortalis sat back slowly. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Welcome to my world.”

He steepled his fingers. “Okay, maybe I do know where to start. First of all, I
can
connect you with someone who can get a read on the new signum and see what power they contain—if he’s willing to meet with you. It won’t be easy.”

She shrugged. “Is anything in my life?”

Mortalis continued. “Second, I’ll put out some feelers, see if I can get feedback on where our runaway vamp might be. Third, why do you think you said Damian’s name?”

“No idea. There’s nothing there but a big blank. The blackouts seem to start a few moments before I actually die.”

Mortalis strummed his fingers on his knees, lost in thought for a few moments. “With everything you’ve told me, I can think of only one good reason you’d say his name.”

“Why?” She edged forward, her breath tight in her chest, as she already knew what he was going to say. The same thing Mal had already told her.

Mortalis blew out a breath. “He’s your brother.”

Chapter Twelve

N
othing in this one either.” Fi tossed another book on the growing pile in the middle of Mal’s office. “You really think we’re going to find anything?”

“Yes.” No, but getting Fi to help search for nonexistent information on the ring of sorrows was a great way to keep her away from Doc until he could get his situation figured out. Not that babysitting Fi was really what Mal wanted to be doing either, but there was no point in being around Chrysabelle when she woke up if it was anything like the last time. He’d let her remember she’d wanted to talk to him and come here on her own terms. Better that than arguing with her again. He didn’t want to argue. He wanted them to be a team.
How sweet.
However much that was possible. If it even was.
It’s not.

Fi flipped through another book. “You should sell these. Paper books are worth good money and you could use some of that.”

“No. Keep looking.” Somewhere outside, a car door shut and a new heartbeat announced itself to his senses. “Someone’s here.”

Fi looked up from her pages. “Chrysabelle?”

“No.” He closed the book he hadn’t been reading and stood. “Get scarce in case it’s trouble.”

“I’ll be in the galley if you need me. I think there’s some pizza left.” She moved out and he followed her, splitting off to head up to the deck. He climbed to the bridge for a better vantage out over the ship.

The sun had set a while ago, leaving a melting blue horizon in its wake. An imported sedan sat at the end of the freighter’s gangplank. No heartbeats inside the car, so whoever it was had come alone. Good. Easier to kill if need be. The voices cheered that idea.

He honed in on the pulse. Somewhere to the front of the ship. Trying to find a way in most likely. He dropped down a few levels, landing without making a sound. That’s when the perfume hit him. Wasn’t strong, but to his nose, it was enough. Why humans doused themselves in scent, he’d never understood. Soap, shampoo, lotion, washing detergent. Everything had an artificial smell. It was almost more than his nose could take at times. Blood, sweat, earth, rain, metal. Those were honest smells. Unlike the fake limey scent that marked his intruder like a flashing neon sign. He settled in among a stack of empty barrels to watch her. When she moved, he followed, always quiet, always a few steps behind. Once close enough to touch. But he didn’t.

She finally found an entrance that satisfied her. He leaned against the railing behind her. She knocked, almost making him laugh.

“Slumming, Madam Mayor?”

Pulse bumping a notch higher, she jumped and twisted to look at him. “You startled me.”

“I’m a vampire. If that’s the least I do, you should be thankful.”

Her smile was forced as she straightened her skirt. Nice legs. Not as nice as Chrysabelle’s. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

“Sure. Start with how you found me.”

“I have access to information most people don’t.”

He crossed his arms. “I’m completely off the grid. Have been for centuries.”

“I… I hired someone to find you.”

“That someone have a death wish?”

“Please, I’m not here to upset you.” She took a few steps toward him, proving she was either incredibly ballsy or insane. He inhaled, picking up the additional aroma of rum. He added drunk to the list of possibilities. “I know that my grandchild is in the hands of the ancient ones, as you call them.”