Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) (27 page)

They were good at being mad at each other.

But right now, he couldn’t think of a single reason to be anything but concerned. All he could think of was finding out if she’d been hurt by the Nothos. Or that whack job Creek. Kubai Mata. Did he also moonlight as the tooth fairy?

Mal walked to her door and knocked.

Predictably, Velimai answered. With her usual cold glare, she studied him for a moment. Then shut the door.

Cursing under his breath, he knocked again. ‘Velimai, get Chrysabelle.’

The bothersome fae opened the door and shook her head. Her hands and fingers flew.

He held a palm up. ‘You know I can’t understand a word you’re signing.’

Velimai rolled her eyes and disappeared into the house, leaving the door open. She returned, writing on a tablet with a stylus. Her mood didn’t seem to have improved. She turned the tablet so he could read what she’d written on the screen.

Chrysabelle is resting. Cannot be disturbed. Go home.

So. Not training. Not good. ‘No. I need to see her. She won’t mind being disturbed, trust me.’ Or maybe she would. But she’d get over it. He needed to know she was okay.
You need her blood.

Velimai hugged the tablet to her chest and shook her head.

‘You’re not the only one who can yell.’ Mal glared back. ‘You want me to wake her up my way? Then you can explain why you didn’t go and get her in the first place.’

Velimai flipped him a sign he understood perfectly and walked away in the opposite direction. Hopefully to get Chrysabelle.

A hundred hours later, Chrysabelle appeared, skin as pale as the big white robe she was wrapped in, hair loose around her face, and dark circles beneath her eyes. She moved tentatively, like she was in pain. Even at this distance he felt her body temp was off. Too high. He was relieved she was alive and upright, but her condition left a lot to be desired. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Can we go out to the lanai?’ The words were strained.

‘Sure.’ He could argue a thousand other days to be let in. ‘Meet you there.’

It took her ten minutes longer to join him than it should have. She delicately sat onto one of the chaise longues, then eased her feet up and patted the cushion. ‘Sit.’

Bite.
He did as she asked, welcoming the closeness and instantly wishing for more. ‘What happened?’

She smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’ She reached out and squeezed his hand, knocking his mental balance into a dark crevasse. Her touch made the voices howl.

‘Thank you. And likewise.’ Except she clearly wasn’t okay. ‘Please tell me what happened. Two Nothos got away from me. I know they went after you.’ If he was lucky, they’d eaten Creek for dinner.
Or you could.

With a sigh, she rested her head against the chaise’s high back. ‘That’s why I wasn’t sure if you were all right. They found us.’

Us
, she’d said. Like she and Creek were a couple. He looked away long enough to force the calm back onto his face. ‘Then what happened?’

‘We fought them. Killed them. We both got wounded, but I took the brunt of it.’

‘You should wear that body armor of yours from now on.’

She glanced down and adjusted her robe. ‘That wouldn’t make it very comfortable for you to be around me.’

That she would care about that detail raised a sense of satisfaction in him. ‘I’ll deal. How badly were you hurt?’

‘I needed a few stitches. Still working the Nothos poison out of my system, which, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, is why I’m running a little hot and fast.’

‘How many is a few?’

‘Enough to close me up.’

‘How many?’

Her expression darkened. ‘I think around seventy.’

The sensation drained out of his extremities. ‘Seventy. Seven zero.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘Son of a priest.’ The beast inhaled. The scent of blood was strong. But so was another scent. ‘Who gave you those stitches?’

‘Who do you think?’

There was no thought. Just a growl and his fist pounding the tumbled marble pool deck. The tile cracked. He got up and walked to the edge of the pool. Stared unseeing into the crystalline water. Listened to the whine of the souls in his head.

‘You’re upset he saved my life?’

The slayer had touched her.
She probably asked him to. Probably loved it.
‘
He
saved your life? I’m sure my sending you away and taking the bulk of those monsters had nothing to do with the fact that you’re still here.’

‘Mal … ’ Her voice was soft, cajoling.

Now was not the time for his anger. He knew that but let it roil within him anyway. ‘Where were you injured?’

‘Across my stomach.’

Rage choked him. ‘Did he undress you, too?’

‘Yes.’ Anger replaced the softness. ‘Just like you did.’

He had no problem remembering that day. Forgetting it … now, that was an issue. He turned. ‘If you recall, you undressed yourself that day. I covered you up.’

She scowled, making herself look even more pitiful, and muttered something under her breath that sent an electric skitter over his skin and the voices into a new frenzy.

He cocked one eyebrow. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said bite me. But I meant it figuratively.’

‘Now you sound like Katsumi. Which seems like a good
enough reason to change the subject.’ That or he was going to destroy something. ‘Tatiana was in Seven. Her hand has been replaced by some metal prosthesis that can change shape. She’s hunting you. Sooner or later, she’s going to find you. Unless you get your boyfriend to track her down and stake her first.’

‘I figured the Nothos were a sign she was here. Now we know for sure. And her being here makes her easier to find and kill.’ She laughed. ‘It’s interesting to see you jealous.’

Damn right he was jealous. ‘You confuse jealousy with protecting what’s mine. Your blood rights. Or have you conveniently forgotten that again?’

‘Conveniently? You mean like the way you’re only my patron when it’s convenient?’ She snorted softly. ‘This is a two-way street, Malkolm.’

‘Don’t you care that Tatiana’s after you? That she’s in town?’

‘Dominic sent Solomon over to ward the house when we got back from Corvinestri. Some kind of extra-strength spell that erased the house’s location from Tatiana’s memory.’ She stared directly at him in a transparent show of bravado. ‘Besides, I have every intention of killing her the first chance I get.’

‘She found the house once, she’ll find it again. You’re injured. You’re in no condition to fight her if she shows up. Especially if she brings more Nothos with her.’

‘She won’t have to fight. I’m here.’

At the voice, they both looked up. Mal cursed at the slayer walking toward them. Velimai hovered behind Creek, looking far too pleased to have escorted the KM in. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Checking up on my patient. She can’t spare the blood right now, so you might as well leave.’

‘She’s not your patient.’ A storm rose up in Mal, a maelstrom of darkness and desperation.
Kill him.

Creek lifted a brow. ‘I put those stitches in. Or didn’t she tell you that?’

‘I told him.’ Chrysabelle’s face went from pale to pink. Was she blushing? Not a look Mal recalled seeing on her before. ‘What can I do for you, Creek?’

‘Like I said, I just came to see how you’re feeling.’ He glanced at Mal. ‘Check on those stitches.’

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Mal growled. He’d be double damned if he was going to let that mortal touch Chrysabelle again.

‘You both need to relax.’ Chrysabelle rolled her head from side to side against the chaise’s back. ‘And stop acting like children.’

Creek laughed in Mal’s direction. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s more of a senior citizen.’

‘You’re definitely a child.’ Mal shrugged off his jacket. ‘One who could use a spanking.’

With some effort, Chrysabelle swung her feet onto the ground. ‘I’m done with both of you. Go home.’

Mal rushed to her side to help her up. Creek got to her two seconds later. Senior citizen, indeed. ‘It’s not safe for you to be alone.’

Creek nodded. ‘I agree with the old man on that one.’

She pulled away from both of them, her eyes flashing sparks like her signum. ‘Fine. Stand guard. Patrol the grounds. Beat each other to a bloody pulp. Whatever makes you happy. Just don’t think you’re coming in. Either of you.’ She headed for the house. ‘I have a battle to prepare for.’

*

‘I don’t see anything but rat droppings and rust down here.’ Dominic grimaced as he surveyed the cargo hold.

‘She’ll be here soon as the loop starts.’ Doc rubbed a hand over his scalp. This had to work. He was out of ideas, and this wasn’t even a good one.

Dominic eyed Doc suspiciously. ‘Why are you so twitchy?’

‘I’m not twitchy. I’m anxious. I miss Fi.’ Which was true. He ached for her. Hated what she was about to go through. Again. But his nerves were also wired with what was about to go down.

Dominic walked to one of the storage containers and leaned against it. Doc had told him to wear casual clothes. For the Italian, that meant dress slacks and a silk shirt, but at least he’d left the suit at home.

The solar lantern at Doc’s feet cast weak shadows into the solid black surrounding them. A bead of nervous sweat zipped down his spine as the prickle of his sixth sense raised the small hairs on the back of his neck.

‘She’s here,’ he whispered.

Dominic straightened. ‘Where?’

Doc pointed to the faint glow drifting down the corridor. He was counting on Dominic being mesmerized so he could get into position.

‘Doc? You there?’ Fi sounded tinny in the cargo hold’s expanse.

‘Sure ’nuff, baby. Right here. See the light?’

‘Who’s with you?’ Fear edged her voice. Her image emerged as she got closer. She squinted at Dominic.

‘Don’t worry, sweets. Just a … friend. Dominic. Maris’s friend. Remember? We all went to Corvinestri together?’

She scowled. ‘He’s the reason for your curse.’ Suddenly her
ghostly image shifted into something freaky scary. Her face flickered between flesh and bone, her skull showing through the flesh, her eyes like burned-out coals. ‘I don’t like him.’

‘It’s okay, Fi. He’s not here to hurt either one of us.’

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Dominic shifted uneasily. ‘Tell her I want to speak to Maris.’

‘Chill. We’re dealing with a lot of unknowns here, you dig? She’s not quite herself.’ Damn, he was starting to look forward to this. ’Bout time someone took Dominic down a peg.

‘You told me she’d had contact with Maris. I want to talk to her now.’

‘Soon. Be patient. Fi’s got to get through her own stuff first.’ As if on cue, Fi screamed and the thin sound moved him into action. The loop had begun.

From the tangible blackness surrounding her, a skeletal figure attacked, grabbing her.

Dominic grimaced. ‘No wonder Malkolm has such anger. To be left to rot like that … ’

Doc tried not to watch. He’d seen it too many times. Plus, he had work to do. He reached beneath his jacket to the waistband of his jeans and pulled out the syringe.

Her mouth opened in a second scream. The flashlight fell from her hand and landed with the beam pointed at her.

Hands still behind his back, he moved into position behind Dominic and worked the cap off the needle.

Oblivious to Doc’s scheme, Dominic watched with blatant curiosity as Mal’s carcass sank his fangs into Fi’s throat, shredding her flesh like tissue paper. Blood spurted down her front while Mal gorged.

Doc’s anger peaked. With a quick jab, he hammered the syringe into Dominic’s jugular and shoved the plunger down,
filling his system with a cocktail of laudanum and colloidal silver. Dominic cried out, spinning to face Doc.

The color seeped out of Fi as she fought.

Dominic’s hand clenched at his neck. He yanked out the needle. ‘What have you done?’ He staggered backward through the loop. His true face erased his human one, but his fangs only descended halfway. He dropped the syringe.

Fi’s punches bounced off Mal’s thin frame. Her feet dangled off the stone floor of the nightmare’s ruins.

Doc pulled out the empty second syringe. ‘I did what I had to. To help Fi.’

Fi went pale as ash.

Dominic fell, his eyes rolling back in his head. ‘Stay away from me. You don’t know what you’re doing.’

‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’

With a groan, Dominic went completely still. Doc got the needle into a vein and pulled the plunger back until the barrel filled with blood. There. Mission accomplished.

Doc looked up. Mal’s image in the loop stared back with hazy eyes. A scrap of skin hung from his withered jaw. Once again, Fi lay dead at his feet.

Time to get moving. Once Dominic came to, Doc would have a target the size of Texas on his back. But the repercussions meant nothing. He pocketed the precious vial and returned the specter’s dead-eyed gaze. ‘Your days are numbered. I’m about to set your captive free.’