Bad Blood (8 page)

He swallowed his wine. “Yes. Kosmina. She was part of Ivan’s household staff and would be perfect. She’s a good worker. One of the best.”

“You trust her? Think the rest of my staff will work well with her?”

“Implicitly. Yes, absolutely. Kosmina is iron-fisted.”

“I like her already. Make it so, then. One less thing to do.”

“I’ll talk to her today.”

“When is my meeting with Madame Rennata?”

“Tomorrow.” He grimaced. “At eight a.m.”

“Damn that woman.
Her
comarrés run and I’m the one who has to breach daylight to rectify the situation. Someone needs to put her in her place.”

A knock rang out against the door.

“Come,” Tatiana called.

One of the staff opened the door. “My lady, the noble couple whose company you requested has arrived.”

“Send them in.”

With a short bow, the servant left. He returned a few moments later to usher the vampire couple into the office. She stood and walked around the desk to greet them. She didn’t know the couple that well, but the male, Laurent, was the next eldest after her and therefore by rights next in line to be Elder. “Welcome. Please sit.”

Daciana, his wife, curtsied with her palms upright, a move that instantly won her some favor. Marriage among the nobility wasn’t unheard of, but that didn’t mean Tatiana saw any good reason for it. Perhaps these two had simply clung to the old ways. If that was true, they should be very respectful and easily malleable.

Laurent held the chair for his wife, then sat beside her. “Very kind of you to invite us, Lady Tatiana. I know how busy you must be with your pending promotion.”

“Not so busy to attend to my house.” She glanced at Octavian. “Perhaps our guests would like wine.”

He looked horrified for a moment, obviously unhappy he’d yet to make the offer himself. “Of course, let me take care of that.” He leaped to his feet and set about pouring two more glasses.

Tatiana decided to test her guests. “Octavian is newly turned.” His previous position as head of her staff was
well known. How Laurent and Daciana received him would tell much.

Daciana accepted a glass of wine from Octavian as Laurent spoke. “How marvelous for you, Octavian. To have Tatiana as your sire is quite an honor.”

Daciana set her glass down without drinking and looked at her husband. “We should throw a party for him.” She smiled and turned back to Tatiana. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? There hasn’t been a debut party in years. I’m going to do it.” Her smile faltered, her gaze flicking from Laurent to Tatiana, seeking approval. “That is, if you haven’t already planned something.”

Tatiana smiled. “I think it would be rather appropriate for the House of Tepes’s newly appointed Elder to host a debut party for my first turned.”

Daciana’s eyes lit up like silver sparklers. The woman was far too emotional in Tatiana’s estimation, but if she could scatter, she’d be perfect. “Are you saying…” She squeezed Laurent’s arm.

Laurent bowed his head but failed to hide the pride on his face. When he lifted his eyes to Tatiana’s, he had regained his composure. “I am honored.”

She leaned back in her chair and shrugged. “It is your right. You are eldest in the house.”

“Even so, I know exceptions have been made.” He straightened. “I understand that I will not truly be Elder until the council proclaims you Dominus, but I will strive to fulfill that position to the best of my abilities regardless.”

Tatiana held back a grimace. Gah. The pair of them were like eager little puppies. “Wonderful. It just so happens that there is a matter I need attended to.”

“Of course.” Laurent nodded, already agreeing to Tati
ana’s request. Excellent. Well-trained puppies made the best lapdogs. “Whatever I can do, just name it.”

Tatiana swirled the wine in her glass before sipping it. She savored the dark tannic red as it eddied past her fangs and tongue. At last she swallowed. “Are you capable of the job of Elder? Of the ruthlessness sometimes necessary? Can you dispatch justice when need be?”

Laurent puffed out his chest, his eyes going half silver. “I am Tepes born. I am completely capable.”

“Good.” Tatiana set her glass down. “Can both of you scatter?”

“Of course,” Laurent answered before Daciana could say anything.

Tatiana leaned forward. “What do you scatter into, Daciana?”

“Wasps, my lady.”

The plan was complete, then. Tatiana sat back. “I need you to go to New Florida and retrieve something for me.”

“I would be honored,” Laurent said.

“As would I,” Daciana added softly.

“Wonderful.” Except that Daciana was a little too meek for Tatiana’s liking. It was what it was. With that morsel of information tucked away, she set out her plan, knowing full well that before this pair set foot on Southern Union soil, Tatiana was going to get to know Laurent’s bride a great deal better.

So much better, no one would be able to tell them apart.

M
ayor.” Creek got off the couch to stand as Mayor Diaz-White entered the living room of her home. The tan suit she’d worn at the crime scene was gone, replaced by jeans and a tank top with a loose V-neck sweater over it. Her pretty face was scrubbed clean, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, but her expression seemed calm. As calm as could be, given the circumstances.

She extended her hand. “Thank you for coming.” She exchanged a look with Havoc, who stood near the exit. “I understand it wasn’t your choice.”

“I intended to meet with you tomorrow morning as we’d discussed, but your goon decided otherwise. I don’t like being strong-armed.”

“I understand and I apologize. It’s not Mr. Havoc’s fault. After we spoke, I realized I couldn’t wait until morning to have things explained. It’s not in my nature to be so impatient, but this is my daughter. My city. So I sent him after you.” She sat on the couch across from him, a marble and bronze coffee table separating them. “I know you’re upset, but I also know his arrival saved your life.”

Creek tilted his head toward the wolf shifter. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course. John, thank you for your work tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Havoc grunted. “You want to be alone with this guy?” He shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll wait in the front room and escort him out when you’re through.”

“If you wish.” One hand strayed behind her back to tug at her sweater. “But I’ll be fine.”

Was she carrying? It wouldn’t surprise Creek if the mayor of this screwed-up city kept a gun or five. He sat back down. His clothes, borrowed from Havoc—jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of flip-flops—fit okay, but since getting out of the pen, wearing anything he hadn’t personally bought grated on him. “He didn’t save my life. I was hurt, but I would have been fine.”

Her sculpted brows arched as her gaze scanned his upper body. “Havoc said your shoulder was torn open. Some kind of animal attack.” Her hands clenched, then relaxed. “I’ve been receiving reports of some sightings in the city lately. Large cats. A wolf or two. Even… well, it’s ridiculous, but someone saw an enormous flying lizard-bird thing a few weeks ago.”

Argent needed to be more careful. “Most likely it was a dragon. Just like the strange bats you’ve been seeing around city hall aren’t bats. They’re the gargoyles on the building come to life, but I suspect you already know that.”

She laughed until she noticed he hadn’t joined her. The smile vanished. “It’s not possible.”

That was enough for now. No point rattling the hive past the point of recovery. “What would you like to know about your daughter?”

“Why did she have those gold tattoos all over her? Do you know?”

“Yes.” But where to begin? “They are an ancient way of purifying the blood.”

The mayor’s face screwed up. “Purifying the blood? Like some kind of ritual? Do you think whoever killed her did that to her?”

“No, she chose to have those marks placed on her body. They’re called
signum
.”

“Why would she do that?” She tucked her legs beneath her. “As a teen, Julia thought tattoos were ugly.” Her gaze snagged on his well-inked forearms before shifting back to his face.

He leaned into the couch, spreading his arms over the back so she could get a better look at his
ugly
tats. The move sent a ripple of pain through his still-healing shoulder. “Comarré do what they do because they have chosen to serve a particular master.” Telling this woman her daughter had decided to become a blood whore pimped out by the local vampire kingpin wasn’t going to be easy. Well, the telling might be easy, but her reaction wasn’t going to be.

“This involves a cult, doesn’t it?
Dios mio
, what did she get herself into?” The mayor crossed herself and whispered a few prayerful words in Spanish.

Creek tipped his head back and sighed. This was not the right place to start. There was too much she needed to know first for any of this to make sense. He edged forward on the seat and leaned his arms on his knees. “It’s not a cult, but there are some other things I need to explain first.”

“Like what?”

“You said you’ve been getting reports about animal sightings. Anything else?”

She hesitated, her mouth hardening. “Yes. Many other things. Things that should not—do not—exist.”

“They do exist. And you need to accept that.”

She stared at him, her jaw working like she was going to scream or cry. “I don’t think you have a clear idea of the kind of reports I’m getting.”

“Vampires. People who shift into animal forms. Creatures with horns. Unnaturally colored skin.” Gold tattoos. Branded skin.

She shook her head. “Those things aren’t real. No intelligent person would ever believe that.”

“They will. Halloween is three days away. The potential exists for greater chaos to erupt. It’s part of the reason I’m here. To protect mankind.”

The doubt and fear on her face gave way to anger. She slit her eyes at him. “I don’t appreciate being made a fool of.”

He straightened. “I’m telling you the truth.”

She untucked her legs. “John,” she called. “Please escort Mr. Creek out.”

Creek stood and yanked his T-shirt off over his head. “Look at my wounds. Do you think most humans heal this fast?”

Havoc ran into the room, but the mayor’s gaze was on Creek’s shoulder. “I don’t know how hurt you were to begin with.” She looked away. “You need to go.”

“And you need to face what’s happening in this city.” He held a hand out to keep Havoc at bay.

She stood. “You told me you could explain what my daughter had done to herself. You haven’t done that. What you have done is waste my time.”

“Your daughter became a kind of counterfeit comarré. Comarré, the real ones, are an elite source of blood for
vampires
.”

“I don’t want this to be real.” The mayor shook her head. “It’s a nightmare.”

“That’s enough,” Havoc warned.

Creek glared at him. “Don’t tell me what to say, shifter.”

“Shut your mouth,
tribe
, or I’m going to make you hurt.” Havoc approached, arms reaching.

Creek backed up, buying time. “Mayor, I can introduce you to a real comarré and a real vampire. They can help explain. Prove what I’m saying and what you’re seeing is true.”

“No, I’m done with this. These lies.” She covered her face with her hands.

“Not lies. Truth. Watch.” Creek charged Havoc, ducked the man’s punch, and came up behind him, snaring him in a headlock. He yanked off the shifter’s sunglasses. Havoc growled and the mayor’s mouth dropped open.

She held out a shaking finger. “His eyes…”

“He’s varcolai. An animal shifter. Wolf, in case you hadn’t guessed.” He released the snarling Havoc, pushing him away at the same time.

“
Dios mio
.” She sank back onto the couch, going slightly green. “John, is that true?”

Havoc snatched his shades and shoved them back onto his face. “Yes, Madam Mayor. I’ll get my things and go.” He pointed at Creek. “You, I’ll be waiting for outside.”

“No, John, wait.” She stopped him. “I’ve known something was different about you lately.” She inhaled. “I don’t know what to think.” Her gaze drifted from Havoc to
Creek and back again. “You’ve been an exemplary employee. Your… situation doesn’t change that, does it?”