Bad Blood (22 page)

The lead fae waggled his blade. “You even got that kinda cash on you?” He dropped his gaze to a small hole in Mal’s sleeve. “You don’t exactly look flush.”

“I have it. That a deal, then?”

The fae grinned. “How do you know we won’t just roll you and take it all?”

“Because I’m a five-hundred-year-old noble vampire, and the kind of power I could unleash would turn you into stains on the sidewalk quicker than you could take your next breath.”

“That so?” The fae hitched one shoulder like he’d just developed an itch. “Then why haven’t you?”

Weakling. Fight them. Kill them. Drain them
. “Because I don’t need trouble. Do you want the money or not?”

“Deal.” The word came from behind him. The lead fae shot a look at his partner.

“I’m going to reach for the money.” Mal slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his coat and snagged the first bundle, then into the back pocket of his jeans for the rest. The bulk of the ten thousand was in his boot. He pulled his hand out and splayed the three rolled bundles like playing cards. “Here you go.”

The lead fae came closer. Mal inched his hand back a
little and slipped some persuasion into his voice. A little test couldn’t hurt. “You have a name? In case I need help getting out of another
situation
?”

The fae’s gaze went slightly murky. His mouth opened and stayed that way for a long moment before any sound came out. “Jester.”

Mal flipped the money into the air and took off, the sounds of scrabbling fading behind him. His head spun, but three grand and a sudden bout of nausea was a small price to pay to find out his power worked on the fae. Something told him that might come in very handy helping Chrysabelle get her ring back.

Fi had scoured Little Havana, gone to the freighter, and talked to the bouncers outside Seven. Doc was nowhere. Now, hours later, she pulled the sedan back through the gates at Chrysabelle’s, exhausted and heartsick. She knew Doc must have taken the baby to the witches. Why else would he have said
witch
? It must have been a clue for her. But knowing that and finding him were two different things. She had no idea where the witches lived, and she didn’t know anyone who did, besides Dominic, and chances of him helping Doc were none. Maybe Velimai. The fae might come with her. The idea of going after such a powerful force alone frightened Fi. She’d do it if she had to, but a little company would be a great thing. Times like this, she wished with her whole heart that Doc had made peace with the leader of his pride and gotten himself reinstated. Then she could go to Sinjin and get help. Now, with Mal and Chrysabelle gone, she was practically on her own.

And there was still the matter of the kidnapped comarré, Saraphina, to deal with. The comar, Damian, would want to go after her, wouldn’t he? He had no reason to help Doc over one of his gold-marked sisters. Fi parked, turned off the engine, and rested her head against the steering wheel. The early morning sun beat down on her through the windshield. She wanted to cry, but tears weren’t going to do anything but make her eyes puffy and her nose red.

She left the car, trudged to the door, and knocked, knowing it would be locked. A click of the tumblers and Velimai answered, looking like she’d had as much sleep as Fi had, which was none. “How’s the comar?”

Velimai signed that he was okay.
Did you find Doc?
she asked.

Fi swallowed to keep from crying. “No. But I’m about ninety-nine percent sure I know where he went. Just not how to get there. Or what to do when I find him. Or how to get him out of the mess he’s in.” She sighed as she came in, shutting the door behind her. “This whole thing is a nightmare.”

She followed Velimai into the kitchen. The wysper went back to scrambling eggs and frying bacon and potatoes. The smell was like heaven and a little bit of solace for the night Fi had spent, but as much as she loved food, she would have traded it all in a heartbeat to have Doc back. She sniffed away a new surge of emotion as Velimai pointed to the coffeepot.

“Thanks.” Fi was going to need all the awake she could get. She took a mug down and filled it, then grabbed a seat at the table and sipped her coffee, mentally urging it to work faster than usual. “Any chance you know where Aliza the witch lives?”

The wysper shook her head.

“That’s what I thought.”

Fi was halfway through her coffee when Damian came in. “Morning.” Above his loose white drawstring pants, gauze wrapped his middle, leaving his broad upper body bare except for another bandage on his shoulder and the swirling, jagged signum that covered his skin. She tried not to gape. Dark circles shadowed his blue eyes, but that was nothing compared to the sharp edge of anger sparking through them. Clearly he was ticked off. And had every right to be.

“How are you feeling?” Fi asked, dragging her gaze back to her coffee. “You passed out right before I left last night.”

“Fine.” The word came out almost a snarl. He took a chair as Velimai placed a massive platter of food in the middle of the already-set table.

“You don’t look fine.” Fi took a long swallow of coffee, wondering if she’d pushed the comar too far. Chrysabelle had a temper. Maybe they all did.

He stared at her. “I’m well enough to do what needs to be done.” He picked up the serving spoon. “Are you going to eat? Because I am and quickly, but politeness dictates I serve you first.”

Fi held up a hand. “You go ahead.”

He shoveled food onto his plate and started eating as if someone might snatch it away from him. Fi kept her fingers on her side of the table. “I take it you plan to go after Saraphina as soon as you finish?”

He stopped eating abruptly, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “Not a chance. She’s the one who put the gash in my shoulder.” He shook his head, a little of the fire dimming
in his eyes. “I never should have made her leave in the first place. She’s a lifer.”

“A lifer?”

Another forkful of eggs vanished into his mouth. He swallowed before speaking. “She likes the life. Loves it, actually.” He shoved a hand through his near-platinum locks. “I thought if I got her away from it, showed her what freedom was, she’d change her mind. She didn’t. I take the blame for not figuring that out sooner.” He scooped up another helping of potatoes. “I’m sure she’s the reason Dominic wanted us out of his hair. She wouldn’t leave him alone, begging him to be her patron.” He scowled. “She doesn’t get that we’re about more than that.”

New hope filled Fi. “So maybe you’d help me find Doc?”

Damian frowned. “He never turned up last night?”

“No. I went after him, well, where I thought he was going and I was right. He was under the spell of a witch—the one who’d put him under a curse before. Anyway, I lost him again because of the spell. I looked everywhere I thought he might be but couldn’t find him. My best guess is he’s gone to her house, but I don’t know where that is and everyone who does is off to New Orleans.”

“Most varcolai have packs, don’t they?”

“Doc’s feline. They call it a pride. And yes, they do, but in Doc’s case, no.” She didn’t have it in her to explain that history now.

“What about Dominic, then? He seems pretty connected.”

“He is, but…” Fi bit the inside of her cheek. Doc sure had his enemies, didn’t he? “I don’t think he’d help Doc. They have a long past. A bad one. Like Dominic almost killed Doc a few weeks ago.”

Damian tapped his fingers on the table. “He’d probably give up the witch’s location in exchange for the right information.”

Fi held up her hands. “Like what? I have nothing to tell him.”

“But I do. The vampire who took Saraphina is named Laurent. He’s next in line to take over the position of Elder, should Tatiana become Dominus, which is what she wants more than anything. There’s a good chance Laurent’s working for Tatiana.” He paused for a moment. “Tatiana could even be the second presence on the property last night. Dominic would want to know that, wouldn’t he?”

Fi nodded slowly. “It’s pretty common knowledge Dominic wants Tatiana dead for killing the woman he was in love with.” She pushed away from the table. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

T
atiana stomped down the stairs ahead of Laurent, whom she’d left to deal with the comarré. Octavian waited for them with the car inside the dark hangar, away from the blazing afternoon sun. Being back in Corvinestri was like a weight lifted off her shoulders. He came forward to meet her, his brow furrowed, his eyes wide with worry.

“The Elders called for you early this morning.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “The ancient one finally showed. They want you in St. Petersburg by tonight.”

Bloody hell. Of all the bad timing. “What did you tell them?”

“That yo—that Tatiana had some bad blood and was feeling ill. I blamed it on a servant, said the blood hadn’t been properly refrigerated. I told them things hadn’t been easy since your comar ran away.” He shrugged. “I had to buy time. I didn’t know when you’d be back. I was ready to come get you myself.”

She frowned. She didn’t like the council thinking she was sick, but what else was there? “Good enough. Let’s get Laurent back to the house quickly. Damn fool cap
tured the wrong comarré. But you don’t know that, understand?”

Octavian nodded even as he looked over her shoulder. “Ah, Laurent, there you are. Need help?”

Tatiana turned to see Laurent coming down the jet stairs with the bagged comarré over his shoulder.

“No, I’ve got it.” He patted the comarré’s rump through the bag, causing the girl inside to move. Tatiana shot him the look she expected Daciana would have. He ignored it.

Octavian opened the trunk. Laurent took the hint and dropped the girl inside. She let out a small “ooof” but otherwise kept quiet. After the girl’s outburst in the closet, Tatiana figured she was just happy to be out of New Florida. Tatiana certainly was. But if the girl thought she was going to be welcomed back without some sort of punishment for running, she was sadly mistaken.

Tatiana got into the limo and slid to the seat farthest away from the door. Octavian got in ahead of Laurent and she tapped the seat beside her. He took the spot she indicated, forcing Laurent to sit alone.

“What are you doing on that side, pet? You know I like you to sit beside me.”

“I’m fine where I am.”

He scowled but said nothing. She was completely over the charade. In fact, if she was going to kill them both, she wasn’t sure why she was even maintaining it. Laurent and Daciana had one chance to hear her out and come aboard or she would remove them from her service permanently, although she was starting to feel for Daciana a bit. Laurent was a bloody bore. And excessively affectionate. And more than a little controlling. Not that Daciana had seemed to mind when they were in her office. Tatiana
forced a thin smile and batted her eyelashes. “Do you miss me already? We’ve just been on that wretched plane together for a thousand hours.”

Octavian coughed, blinking hard.

Laurent gave her a very unpleasant smile in return. “As long as you’re comfortable, love.”

“Very. Thank you.” She turned back to the window and dropped the smile. Beside her, Octavian shifted, drawing her attention.

He leaned forward, opened the bar’s refrigerator, and extracted a stainless-steel thermos. “Blood?”

She and Laurent answered yes at the same time. Octavian poured hers first and she greedily drank it down. She could have polished off the whole thermos, but that would raise questions with Laurent. Soon, very soon, she’d be able to sleep and recover the drain on her strength from holding Daciana’s image so long.

By the time they reached the house, she’d formulated a plan. Getting in front of the council was important, but heading off to St. Petersburg could wait until she’d dealt with Laurent and Daciana. Too many loose ends wore at her nerves, and with her strength so low, she couldn’t handle having another thing to worry about.

She went inside with Octavian and Laurent, who had the comarré over his shoulder again. They followed Octavian into the main parlor of her house. She inspected as they went. The new head of staff Octavian had hired seemed to be doing an excellent job of keeping the estate in order.

As soon as they entered the parlor, Tatiana turned to Octavian. “Could you direct me to a washroom? I’d like to freshen up before we see Tatiana.”