Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) (48 page)

BOOK: Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2)
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An hour later, he eased Chrysabelle off the long backseat, carefully putting her over his shoulder. The acrid tang of smoke saturated everything. Velimai ran out to meet him. For once, the wysper didn’t seem to care he was a vampire.

Without understanding her signs, he knew she wanted to know what had happened to Chrysabelle. He carried Chrysabelle into the house without waiting for Velimai’s approval and did his best to explain quickly. ‘She made a portal to go to the Aurelian. She was punished for bringing me and the slayer with her. The comarré disavowed her and cut away the runes that got her in to see the Aurelian.’ He stopped at the stairs. ‘This way to her room?’

Velimai nodded and went ahead, leading him.

‘Why does it smell like smoke? Did Tatiana try to burn the house down?’

Velimai shook her head, made a sign with her hand like rolling waves.

‘Tatiana burned the boat.’

Velimai nodded.

Which was how she’d closed the portal.

Velimai pushed open a set of double doors. The master suite. She continued through the sitting room, pulling back the linens on a king-size bed.

Before he was close enough to set Chrysabelle down, the wysper signed something and ran into a different part of the suite. He maneuvered Chrysabelle off his shoulder and onto the bed, keeping her on her stomach. She whimpered as he broke contact, so he took her hand. Her eyes flickered open, but they seemed unfocused.

‘Shhh, it’s all right now. You’re home.’

‘Hmmm.’ Her eyes closed, apparently satisfied.

Velimai returned, towels draped over her shoulder, a basin of steaming water in her hands and a pair of scissors dangling off one finger.

‘Good.’ Mal sighed. ‘I guess I should go downstairs and let you clean her up. Creek will be here soon with his grandmother. She’s a healer.’

Velimai shook her head and held out the basin, nodding like he should take it.

‘You want me to help?’ He took the basin and set it on the nightstand.

Velimai put the scissors and the towels on the bed, then clapped her hands and pointed at his arm.

He held it toward her. ‘What about my—’

She swiped her fingers across the palm of his hand. Trails of blood welled up, then faded as his skin healed. She picked up the scissors, handed them to him, and gestured at Chrysabelle.

He’d had no idea wysper skin was so abrasive. ‘You need me to do it.’

She nodded, frowning as her gaze drifted to the unconscious comarré.

‘She’ll be okay.’ He hoped. ‘Scarred maybe, but okay.’ Scars that would be a permanent reminder of what he’d cost her.

With Velimai watching, he cut Chrysabelle’s blood-soaked gown off and began the arduous process of cleaning her wounds without hurting her further. She cried out weakly a few times but never fully woke up. At last, he’d cleaned as much of the blood as he could. He covered her to the waist with the sheet, then pulled a chair to the bedside and sat, waiting. Velimai did the same on the other side. They sat in silence, watching Chrysabelle. He was sure the wysper had as little idea about what else to do as he did.

The ticking of the clock on the nightstand filled the room.

From downstairs, a voice called out, ‘Hello?’

Mal started. ‘That’s Creek. Velimai, will you—’

The wysper was already out the door. A minute later, she was back with Creek and his grandmother.

‘Any change?’ Creek asked.

‘No.’ Mal’s gaze went to the woman beside the KM. Hanks of brightly colored beads surrounded her neck. A loose bun held back her gray hair, and behind thick glasses, her dark eyes watched him intently without a trace of fear or judgment.

Creek took the hint. ‘This is my grandmother, Rosa Mae Jumper. She’s a healer from the Seminole nation.’

‘You can help her?’ Mal asked the woman.

She tilted her head back like she couldn’t see all of him. ‘You
live in shadow, dark one.’ She walked past him to the bed and held her hands over Chrysabelle. ‘This one is full of light. Too much light. She is unbalanced.’

‘Can you help her or not? All this mumbo jumbo does nothing—’

‘Watch your tone, vampire.’ Creek rested a hand on his grandmother’s shoulder. ‘Mawmaw, what do we need to do to help her?’

She gave him a look that made him remove his hand, then turned back to Mal. ‘Peace, dark one. I am here to heal, but I cannot do it alone.’

He leaned in. ‘What do you need? Just tell me.’

‘It isn’t what I need. It’s what she needs. Blood. Yours.’ Her eyes were unblinking. ‘Are you willing?’

He straightened. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Your blood can balance the light in her. Your darkness can give her reason to fight. The strength of your blood will heal her wounds and give her a chance to live.’

He took a step toward her. She didn’t move. ‘In English.’

She removed her glasses and cleaned them with the edge of her blouse. ‘Cut yourself. Fill her wounds with your blood. Is that clear enough, blood eater?’

Velimai hissed. Mal backed away, shaking his head. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’

She put her glasses back on. ‘Yes, I do.’

Sharing blood with Chrysabelle could change her. She was comarré, she already bore certain characteristics given to her by the presence of vampire saliva in her system. What would blood do to her? He was afraid of the answer.

Creek approached. ‘Are you sure this is safe, Mawmaw?’ Nothing about his demeanor said he thought the old woman’s
proposal was a good one. ‘She’s a daughter of light. Putting his blood into her … ’ He scowled.

She sighed. ‘You asked me to help, Thomas. I can only offer what the spirits bring me.’

‘I don’t like it,’ Creek said.

‘You think I do?’ Mal asked.

Rosa Mae walked toward the door. ‘She’s fading, isn’t she? Listen.’

Mal stilled, doing as the woman suggested. Chrysabelle’s pulse was weaker, her heartbeat sluggish. Tired. ‘If this goes poorly, if
something
happens to her—’

Creek nodded. ‘We both take the blame. We both protect her.’

Mal sighed. Reluctantly, he lifted his wrist to his mouth, tore his fangs across his skin. Blood dripped down his arm. He held it over the first gouge along her spine until the bleeding stopped and he had to open his flesh again. He repeated the process until his blood filled both of the raw grooves in her back.

She shivered as his blood seeped into her body. Her pulse strengthened. The edges of her wounds began to pull together.

‘She will heal,’ Rosa Mae announced.

‘Yes,’ Mal answered. ‘But will she still be herself when she wakes up?’

‘She will be who she is meant to be,’ Rosa Mae said. ‘Take me home, Thomas. Give the blood eater some peace.’

‘I’ll be back,’ Creek said as he escorted her out.

Mal slumped into the chair and settled in to wait for Chrysabelle to wake up. Peace? Not hardly. Never in his life had he had such a bad feeling about something.

He hoped Chrysabelle made it through this unaffected and proved him wrong, but if she didn’t … if he’d turned her … He dropped his head into his hands. She balanced him. Made him
feel as close to sane as he’d been in a long while. Turning her into a vampire was unacceptable. There were only so many burdens he could bear.

That was not one of them.

The waning moon shed its pale silver over Aliza’s porch, giving them just enough light to work with.

Evie came out of the house, shutting the sliding door behind her. She’d regained enough strength that their work could go forward. ‘Midnight hour, Ma. At last.’

Aliza smiled. Her daughter was whole again. Her sweet Evie, well and standing beside her. Aliza nodded at her precious child, thankful she held no hard feelings over the length of time it had taken Aliza to free her. ‘So it is.’

‘Did the shifter go through the smoke?’

‘We’ll know soon enough. For now, let’s light the candle and start this new spell.’

Evie struck a match and touched it to the wick, lighting the black anise-scented candle. She placed it in the center of the salt and earth pentagram they’d outlined on the scarred picnic table.

Aliza took the vial of blood from her apron and set it beside a wide strip of willow bark on the table. ‘Hold that flat for me.’

‘I never imagined we’d end up with
his
blood,’ Evie said, securing the willow at both ends with her fingertips. She twitched, a subtle jerking of her whole body. She’d been doing it since being released. Aliza hoped it would go away. ‘Should be better than Dominic’s, don’t you think?’

‘For sure. Malkolm’s blood holds more dark power.’ And power was exactly what they were after. Had been, ever since the night Evie had turned herself to stone. They’d just never figured it would take them so long to get the blood to make it right. Aliza
uncorked the vial and dipped a glass fountain pen into the blood. On the willow bark she wrote the unholy name. ‘This will change everything.’

Evie laughed softly. ‘I want a penthouse in the city.’

‘Child, we will own the city.’ She took the bark and held it over the candle and spoke the simple spell. ‘Ancient spirit, now at rest, heed my call and manifest.’ Slowly, the bark began to burn. Smoke curled off the papery wood until the fire hit the name written in blood. In a flash, the piece flamed brightly, then went to ash in a puff of smoke.

The smoke grew into a cloud, heavy and dense and viciously red. Evie shivered.

‘It’s okay,’ Aliza assured her. ‘The pentagram contains it.’

The smoke spun out and lengthened. Curled into a humanoid shape. Put down hoofed feet. The form towered over them until, at last, the being before them had a voice. ‘Who summons me?’

‘I do,’ Aliza said. ‘I and my daughter.’

Hard red eyes peered back at her. ‘Mortals?’

‘Witches,’ Aliza corrected.

‘Do you know who I am?’ Disgust razed the voice into something like metal against metal.

‘You are Samael, the ancient one, he who fell, head of the Castus Sanguis, the creator of the noble race of vampires.’
And,
she thought gleefully,
mine to command.

He seemed mollified by her acknowledgment of him. ‘Why do you summon me?’

‘Power,’ Aliza answered him.

He laughed. The glass doors rattled and something in the house shattered. ‘All beings want power. What do you want from me?’

What they had originally wanted and what they wanted now
had changed since the night Evie had been restored. ‘We want the ring the vampiress Tatiana seeks. The ring of sorrows.’

Samael laughed a second time. ‘You are not equipped to command such a thing of power. Release me and I will teach you how.’

‘I summoned you, didn’t I?’ She’d expected this response. Known he’d want to be released. No demon wanted to do the bidding of a mortal. It only made her want the ring, whatever its power, that much more. ‘And because of that, you must give me what I want and answer my questions.’

His smile vanished. ‘I do not have the ring.’

‘Then who does?’

‘A blood whore. One of the comarré. The one Tatiana seeks.’ He growled, the sound like thunder. ‘Release me!’

‘You mean the girl with the gold tattoos?’ Evie asked. She nudged her mother.

He nodded, eyes like fiery slits.

Aliza smiled. ‘Then give her to us.’

‘I can’t.’ He scowled. ‘I cannot touch her. Why do you think I sent the vampiress after her?’

Evie stepped forward. ‘What is the ring’s power?’

‘Bring it to me and I will help you rule the world.’ He leered at her. ‘All you have to do is release me.’

Aliza shook her head. ‘Not enough, demon. What does it do?’

He raged, arms outstretched, clawed fingers splayed. ‘Mortal fools! With that ring, you can raise an unconquerable army. Now, free me.’

An unconquerable army was far more than Aliza had ever hoped for. Plans began to form in her head. Why rule Paradise City when she could have the world?

‘Not yet, demon. Not yet.’

Glossary
 

Anathema
: a noble vampire who has been cast out of noble society for some reason.

Aurelian
: the comarré historian.

Castus Sanguis
: the fallen angels from whom the othernatural races descended.

Comarré/comar
: a human hybrid species especially bred to serve the blood needs of the noble vampire race.

Dominus
: the ruling head of a noble vampire family.

Elder
: the second in command to a Dominus.

Fae
: a race of othernatural beings descended from fallen angels and nature.

Fringe vampires
: a race of lesser vampires descended from the cursed Judas Iscariot.

Kine
: a vampire term for humans, archaic.

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