Immortal Craving (Dark Dynasties) (12 page)

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look kind of, um…”

“I know I look like roadkill. You can say it.”

Shelby laughed nervously. “Okay. A little.”

Bay sighed and let her hand drop, looking into Shelby’s concerned brown eyes. “Anna’s there, right?”

Anna LaBounty was the other groomer she’d hired about six months ago, and she usually took Saturday mornings. Which would have been fine up until about two hours ago.

Shelby nodded.

“How backed up is it?” Then Bay shook her head. “No, don’t tell me. This sucks. And I’m sure Anna is trying to do everything herself. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Ten. I swear.”

“Are you sure? Are you getting sick? Because we can always—”

“I’m not sick,” Bay said, and a little too sharply if Shelby’s flinch was any indication. Feeling like a jerk, Bay softened her tone immediately.

“I’m not sick,” she repeated gently. “I overslept. I don’t know how. Maybe it’s a thyroid thing or something. I’ll get it checked out, okay? But I’m fine, and I’ll be there shortly. Tell Anna to put away the hatchet. I’ll stay late.”

“There’s no hatchet,” Shelby said, then cracked a lopsided smile. “At least, there wasn’t when she thought you were dead. I’ll tell her.” The smile faded quickly. “You probably should see a doctor, though. You really look rough.”

Bay wrinkled her nose. “Thanks,” she said, knowing Shelby’s heart was in the right place even if her mouth often had a tough time conveying that. “I’ll set something up, okay? Now go. You’re all kinds of awesome for making sure I’m alive, and I owe you for waking me up… though I don’t even want to think about who’s answering the phone while you’re gone.”

Shelby’s sheepish grin did nothing for Bay’s confidence, but she waved as the girl scampered off her porch. The second Shelby was out of sight, Bay shut the door and dashed upstairs, passing Grimm, who was plodding down at his usual slow pace and no doubt expecting breakfast.

“Sorry boy,” Bay told him as she passed. “You’re eating at the shop today. Our day is officially shot. Prepare yourself.”

She sprinted into her room to throw on some clothes and twist her hair up, silently cursing Tasmin the entire time. She took him in—twice—and what she got for her trouble was some kind of knockout magic so he could sneak out of the house without having to talk to her. Nice.

She brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face, and ran back downstairs. Grimm waited for her at the bottom, giving her some serious stink eye. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t getting his scrambled egg on top of his
breakfast today, and she had no doubt he’d make her pay at some point. He might move slowly, but the bulk hid a devious mind.

Bay grabbed her purse, got Grimm onto his leash, and headed toward the kitchen to go out through the garage. She stopped, though, when she saw the place where Tasmin had spent at least part of the night. Slowly, she walked over to the couch, where her eyes settled on the neatly folded stack of blankets. And no socks. He’d stolen her damned socks.

She started to reach for the top blanket, stopped, and then glared down at Grimm. He looked back up at her, with a look that plainly said he thought she’d lost her mind.

“Oh, give me a break,” she muttered, snatching up the blanket anyway. “It’s not like I’d do this to
him
.” That was a lie, but no one needed to know that except her and her dog, who was likely to forget all about this once she dumped some kibble in his bowl at work. Comforted, she stuffed her face into the soft fleece and breathed in. Immediately, she was awash in the warm scents of sandalwood and spice.

Bay rubbed her cheeks against the fabric like a cat until she realized what she was doing. Then, embarrassed at herself, she cleared her throat and fixed the blanket before depositing it back on top of the other one. A quick look around revealed no other signs that Tasmin had ever been here.

Just as well, she told herself.

“Come on, boy,” Bay said quietly, eyes lingering on the spot where Tasmin had lain, allowing herself to imagine, just for a moment, him curled there asleep. It wasn’t any
worse than what she knew she’d spent a lot of her night doing, which was imagining him spooning her, curved against the back of her with one hand draped over her hip, his breath feathering the back of her neck.

She shook her head to clear it, then headed for the door, an irritated Grimm sauntering along beside her. Living some kind of dark fairy tale wasn’t in the cards for her, and that was fine.

It was time to start her day.

Tasmin was waiting in Lily’s office when the sun went down.

He heard the house begin to waken, the voices as the few Lilim staying here began the night. Tasmin stayed silent, still puzzling at the way Lily ran her court. It wasn’t actually much of a court. No pomp, no pretension, no obnoxious hangers-on. Just Lily and Ty, Lilim who seemed to lead their own lives and were in and out, and the wolves who acted as guard.

In some ways, they were like his kind, or at least, the better prides among his kind. That had been their strength, and their weakness, in the end.

It worried him.

About a half hour after dusk, Lily glided into the room, all beauty and competence. There was a brief metallic tang in his mouth when he saw her, like biting on a knife’s blade, but it vanished almost as quickly as it had come. It seemed to take her aback when she noticed him sitting in one of the comfortable leather chairs facing her desk.

To her credit, she collected herself quickly.

“Tasmin,” she said. “No one let me know you’d come back.”

“I let myself in,” he said, seeing no reason to elaborate. Werewolves’ minds were easy to distract, especially in animal form when their instincts were strong. He’d sent a number of them off to chase irresistible, imaginary rabbits. The illusion was far simpler than an explanation, and he had no interest in dealing with the suspicious Eric Black again.

He had come to this place to see Lily. There was no reason to wait for an audience when he could obtain one himself so easily.

“I see,” Lily said slowly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that actually freaks me out a little.”

Her honesty, and the fact that she didn’t immediately try to blast him with the power she carried, eased some of the anxiety he’d felt about coming back here. Like so many things, he’d been torn over it. Part of him wanted desperately to run, to keep searching for
something
he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The stronger part wanted to stay and find the answers he’d come seeking.

It seemed he had made the right choice. For now.

“It isn’t my intention to scare you,” Tasmin said, hoping to set her at ease. “My reaction to being questioned last night was… poor. I’m still unused to the way things are, the way
people
are. My reactions to things aren’t always rational. But I hope you will accept my apology.”

She seemed taken aback, but not in a bad way. Like Bailey, this woman responded best to honesty. It would serve him well to remember that. These were both good, strong women… though the one would never be strong enough to assuage his fear of getting too close. And it had been so hard to leave her bed.

“Of course,” Lily finally said, pulling him back to the
present with her acceptance of his apology. She watched him curiously for a moment. “Where have you
been
this last six months since you woke up, Tasmin?”

He hesitated, knowing the truth here was ill-advised. His memories of much up until the last month were scattered, at best. He had vague memories of wandering ruins in the darkness, hunting for things that were not there. In his lucid moments he had sought out other vampires, and a string of useless healers. And finally, he had heard of the rebirth of the mother dynasty, and had known this was his only hope of putting some of the shattered pieces of his existence back together.

Out loud, he said, “I was in India, then Europe. I knew I needed answers, but it had been so long… It took time for me to sort out the questions. And there have been so many changes to get used to.”

Her eyes were soft and luminous. Compassionate.

Weak
. The voice hissed through his mind unbidden, making him tense up.

“I can’t even imagine,” Lily said with what sounded like genuine sympathy. “But if you want to be here, you have to remember we’re not your enemies. Ty and Eric went to you because they wanted to know exactly what had happened. I really doubt that the Ptolemy you encountered were up to anything good. My concern is about provoking a larger incident when we can’t afford it.” A faint frown creased her forehead as she sat down at the desk and looked away, folding her hands in front of her. “I’d also rather no one else have to die in these stupid skirmishes. I’m tired of losing good people. I would think Arsinöe would be too.”

Tasmin tilted his head, surprised at such a human
sentiment. But then, he had to keep reminding himself… she was young.

“No. You already know she doesn’t think of people as much more than pawns. I think some vampires live too long. She’s forgotten everything about being human.”

Lily’s smile was rueful. “Sometimes I wonder if she ever knew
much
about that. Regardless, I do need your word that you’ll keep it low-key while you’re here. She was furious enough to call me and scream personally last night, which says a lot.” Her smile vanished. “I also hear she’s been entertaining members of foreign courts. Which, I am told, is not a great sign.”

“If she’s decided to destroy you, your highness, she’ll try,” Tasmin said. “I doubt she’ll give up until one of you is dead. She never negotiated, only conquered.”

She nodded. “I’m pretty sure you’re right. But I’d like to prolong that particular confrontation for as long as I can. That might be harder if you don’t even remember who you’re attacking.”

Tasmin’s throat tightened, and he began to flex his fists rhythmically in his lap. Of course Ty had told her. He’d been a fool for not finding a way around it last night. Another lie sprang to his lips, so quickly it startled him… He would just tell her he did remember, that being confronted by her wolf had intimidated him…

He choked back the words, disgusted. Why would he even think to say such things? He straightened in his chair, and the fact that he could catch the insipid words before they came out of his mouth bolstered him.

The demon couldn’t force him to snivel and cower. Not yet.

“It’s true,” Tasmin said. “Since I awakened, I’ve had
brief blackouts like this. None violent, until now… I can only think I was attacked.”

Lily looked troubled, but sympathetic. That, too, was a relief.

“And the fact that you apparently drained an entire herd of deer?”

“Again, I don’t remember that. Not much, at least. But my energy flags much faster than it ought to, even now. Considering how many Ptolemy I fought…” He trailed off, shrugged. It was an easy, obvious conclusion. He’d been exhausted. He’d taken what was available. A
lot
of what was available. The guilt gnawed at him. A part of him was brother to the beasts of the forest, whether here or in India. In taking the herd down, he’d abused the balance that was meant to exist between them. He couldn’t have needed all of them.

But there was a greed inside of him now that was breathtaking.

“Okay,” Lily said, nodding. “Well, I’ve changed my mind about the healer. If you stay here, you see her. Whether this is a side effect of what happened to you or not, we need to know. My blood comes first.”

It took all of his willpower to swallow the sharp retort that welled in his throat. “Of course, your highness,” he said, knowing he sounded stiff. It was the best he could manage. No one could know about the other healers he’d seen. Or what a failure they’d been.

“You don’t have to like it, Tasmin, or pretend to. You won’t change my mind on this, though I don’t care if you argue with me. And I’d
really
rather be called Lily instead of
your highness
.”

“You’re asking me to argue?” He didn’t understand
anyone in this place. All of the traditional roles had been upended. The queen wanted to be a commoner, the mortal tended to the vampire… it was bizarre. Even in his small pride, Tasmin had understood his place. As one of the junior males, he’d known to follow, not lead. Certain things had been expected of him.

He had no idea what was expected of him here apart from not getting the dynasty destroyed. Perhaps that was enough to work with for now, but the lack of structure left him unsettled.

“Just do what you’re comfortable with, Tasmin. I’m just telling you it’s okay not to be quite so formal.” Lily smiled, and it was a bit weary despite her beauty. He wondered just how many problems he’d caused her because of his unremembered encounter with the Ptolemy. And then her minor confrontation with Bailey over him. He carried trouble with him everywhere, it seemed.

He gave a curt nod. “I understand, your h—Lily.”

The effort made her smile again, and this time it was genuine. She really was a beauty, Tasmin thought. Strange that it left him so unaffected. Bay was the only one who’d pierced his armor at all, and it had to do with much more than her looks… though he certainly enjoyed looking at her too.

His smile faded when he remembered his promise to himself. After last night, that was done. It had to be, for both their sakes.

He would not hurt her.

“A friend of mine will be arriving on Monday,” Lily said. “She’s someone I think you’ll want to meet.”

He drew in a breath. “She has the answers I’m looking for,” he said quietly.

“Some anyway,” Lily replied. “I’m not sure how many, since I couldn’t tell her much over the phone. She needed some time to digest that you even exist. It’s kind of a… difficult subject for her.”

Tasmin tilted his head at her, puzzled. Lily simply shook her head.

“It’s probably best if Anura herself tells you. I only know a little. She doesn’t like to talk about what happened.”

“Anura,” Tasmin repeated. The name was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“She was one of the Empusae,” Lily said. “She was mated to a Rakshasa, but like I said… I’ll let her tell you.”