Last Blood (37 page)

Small, apple-like fruit hung at even intervals, their skin so dark red they almost looked black and so shiny they seemed made of glass. She approached cautiously, unsure what to expect, but nothing impeded her progress. She reached out and touched one of the fruit. It was as cool and smooth as the glass it looked like.

The desire to eat one was overwhelming. Perhaps that was the nature of the tree? She took a few steps back. She didn’t have time to question anything. Mal could be here with Tatiana and Lilith at any moment. She needed a place to hide and watch, a place from which she could strike quickly in case either of them didn’t eat the fruit.

This beautiful, peaceful garden would be the final battleground and as much as she hated the thought of marring this perfect landscape, if it meant safety for her child, she would do it gladly.

She stared up at the tree. The leaves and fruit were so thick that beyond the first few branches, nothing else of the tree was visible. She smiled, nodding. The element of surprise often turned a battle early. With that thought propelling her, she grabbed the nearest branch and began to climb.

“You’re sure?” Tatiana asked. She kneeled on the floor of the sitting room where they’d rolled up the carpet to reveal bare wood. The scroll sat next to her, unfurled.

“Yes,” Mal said. “Turn part of your metal hand into a fountain pen, then use your blood to draw the portal. I’ve seen the comarré do it. I know it’s the way.”

Tatiana sniffed. “I hate that she was such a part of your life. You did kill her, didn’t you?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Stop wasting time and get on with it.” Every moment with Tatiana was like a year away from Chrysabelle. All he wanted was to be with her again and have this nightmare behind them. Then he wanted to press his hands to her belly and feel his child within her.

“Why are you smiling?”

Damn it. He was. “I was thinking about how nice it will be when this is over with.”

Tatiana smiled back, tipping her head coyly. “Won’t it?” She lifted her metal hand and a fountain pen formed between her fingers, and then she lifted her wrist to her mouth and bit down. With a soft curse, she dipped the nib into the blood spilling from her vein.

“Make a circle large enough to step through,” Mal said.

“I know.” Tension edged her voice.

He let her continue without speaking again. She drew the runes into the center of the circle, stopping twice to reopen the vein in her wrist as it healed.

Finally, she sat back. “I don’t see how this is going to—bloody hell, look at that.”

The blood began to spread, filling in the empty spaces as it expanded. Mal nodded. “You did it.” Amazing, considering how little she liked following directions.

She got to her feet as the pen in her hand became fingers again. “Now what?”

“Wait…” Mal studied the portal. The blood touched the sides of the circle and a flash of gold gleamed across the surface. “There. It’s open.”

Her lids fluttered and her mouth opened. “Do you smell that? Like watermelon and fresh-cut grass and flowers.”

“And sunlight,” he added. The perfume flowing through the portal dug into his brain and picked out his few remaining memories of summer, a smell so rich and so rare it almost buckled his knees.

Beside him, Tatiana wept a single tear. She swiped at it. “I haven’t smelled that since… I don’t know when.”

He turned away, ignoring the wrenching longing that had come alive in his chest.
Chrysabelle is already there, waiting for you
, he told himself. “Call Lilith. The sooner this is over, the better.”

She opened her mouth.

“Wait.” A thought struck him. “How do you know it’s going to be night when we go through? It doesn’t smell like night to me.”

“It’s okay,” she answered. “The ancient one reassured me that the Garden becomes whatever you need it to be. I assume when we step through, it will change to night if it’s not already.”

“I hope you’re right.” Because if she was, the shift would alert Chrysabelle that they’d arrived and she’d be able to take cover until the right time. “Go ahead, call the little monster.”

“Mal.” Tatiana glared a warning at him, then put on a mask of happiness. “Lilith, my darling, come to me. We’re ready for our trip.”

Without hesitation, a sliver of shadow invaded the room and turned into Lilith. “I’m here.” Her eyes were round with excitement and Mal wondered how the Castus hadn’t realized that feeding their blood to a child would end up creating such a mad, twisted being. In a way, he felt sorry for Lilith. Her true family, her childhood, and her slim chance at some kind of normal life had been ripped away from her. He knew what that loss felt like from a father’s point of view, but did she? Did she remember anything of her life before she’d become a pawn in this horrific game?

Perhaps death would be a welcome end for her. “Thank you for obeying so quickly,” he told her. “Tatiana, why don’t you go first, then Lilith, then I’ll follow.”

“No,” Lilith barked. “I’m going first. It’s my present.”

Tatiana stepped back in surrender. “You go first, then.”

Mal pointed at the portal. He couldn’t have been more over this whole thing if he tried. At least Lilith going first was a great way to test if the sun was still up. “There. Go.”

With a flounce, Lilith tossed her head and stepped into the circle. She disappeared. Tatiana looked at him. “Maybe we could just erase the portal and be done with her that way?”

Mal raised one brow. “She can travel in and out of the ancients’ realm without effort. What would keep her from leaving the Garden that way?” Again, he pointed to the portal. “Hurry up, before she kills something on the other side.”

Sighing, Tatiana followed after her. As soon as she disappeared, he stepped through.

And found them waiting for him in the middle of a desert. At night.

“There’s nothing here,” Lilith grumped. She stuck her hands on her hips as she turned to look at him. “What kind of—” Her mouth rounded into a circle. “Look!” She pointed and he and Tatiana turned.

A set of gates to rival any he’d ever seen rose up from the sand and vanished into the evening sky. Walls made of trees joined the sides and rounded out of sight. The air in front of the ornately filigreed gates shimmered like a heat mirage and a soldier appeared. Not a soldier exactly. He’d never seen a soldier with wings.

The creature came toward them. Lilith hissed. The creature opened his mouth and roared at her, blowing them all back a few steps. Then he pointed a wicked, flaming sword at her. It spun on its hilt, the flames flowing out like hungry tongues. “Demon spawn,” he said. “Do not urge me to battle.”

Mal yanked Lilith behind him. “Quiet, you.” He bent his head slightly, trying to show respect. “We only wish entrance to the Garden. Will you let us in?”

The creature stared at Mal, losing some of the animosity he’d directed at Lilith. “Your blood decides that, not me.” Behind him the gates began to open. He gestured to Tatiana and Lilith with the sword. “You may pass. You will not be permitted to remove anything from the Garden and you bear the consequences of anything you eat.”

Tatiana grabbed Lilith’s hand and dragged her forward. Mal hesitated. The creature hadn’t indicated he could go through.

The soldier watched Tatiana and Lilith slip through the gates, then turned to Mal and lowered his sword. “You are not the first to enter these gates.” His voice was soft. “Do you understand?”

Mal nodded, happiness replacing the frustration in his belly. “The comarré,” he whispered.

The creature gave a single, short nod and held his hand out toward the gates.

Mal raced forward, catching up with Lilith and Tatiana, hopefully before they realized he’d lagged behind.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Tatiana turned in a slow circle, a look of wonderment shining on her face.

“Glorious.” But Mal’s attention was on Lilith, who’d already strayed from the mossy path underfoot and was reaching for something in a tree. “Lilith,” he called. She ignored him. “Lilith.” She didn’t even glance in his direction. He strode over to where she was.

And realized she was pulling a bright blue snake out of the tree. “Son of a priest, leave that alone.”

She whipped around to face him, her hands still locked on the serpent, her eyes going full red. “You said I could have a pet.”

“And you can, but we’ve only just entered. Don’t you want to see what else there is?”

As his logic sank in, the whites returned to her eyes. She let go of the snake. “I guess.”

He made himself smile at her. “That’s a good girl. Come on, now, let’s see the rest of this place.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and herded her back to the path and Tatiana, who was still ogling the landscape. He pointed, showing Lilith a large purple lizard hugging a tree branch farther up the path. She raced off to look at it up close, giving him a moment to pull Tatiana back to reality. “Could you join me here? How far until we get to the tree?”

“What? Oh.” She sighed and took the map out. “We
follow this path for a while, then leave it after we come to a large spring.”

“Then let’s go before
someone
gets distracted again and we have to drag her by her hair.”

Tatiana nodded and with her help, they soon made it to the spring. He’d only had to forcibly herd Lilith three more times.

They turned off the path, Lilith straggling behind to pull the heads off flowers and throw them into the water. “Lilith, look.” Tatiana pointed into the clearing ahead where a tree sat dead center.

Even without the map and the foreknowledge that it was the Tree of Life, Mal would have known it was something special. It was too perfect, too cleanly shaped to be something ordinary. The fruit hanging off it gleamed like black glass, looking more deadly than life-giving, but then, that was why they were here. Why he was here. To finally rid himself of the woman who’d wanted nothing but the worst for him for many, many years.

He surreptitiously scoped the area for Chrysabelle. It was impossible to pick out her scent with the garden’s heavy perfume, but he knew she was here, just not where. Behind one of the monolithic rock formations or clusters of trees skirting the clearing? Ivy and flowering vines curled up the trunks, joining some and distorting others to the point where it was difficult to see the separation between the trees. She could be anywhere. His gaze landed on the tree again and as he stared at it, he realized there was a faint glow emanating from it.

Chrysabelle was in the branches. He hoped Tatiana just chalked it up to being part of the tree’s supernatural specialness. Or maybe she’d be too distracted to even notice.

Fortunately, that distraction chose that moment to run past them. Lilith went straight to the tree’s lower branches and the fruit hanging there. “What are these? I want one.”

Mal leaned over to Tatiana. “Take yours now. Hurry.” Then he approached Lilith to divert her for a moment. “They’re some kind of fruit, but they don’t look ripe.”

Her bottom lip poked out right on cue. “But I want one.”

At the sound of crunching, he and Lilith turned. Tatiana stood just a few feet away, one of the black apples cradled in her metal hand, the snowy white flesh revealed by the bite she’d taken.

“Delicious,” she purred, eyes closed. Juice dripped down her chin.

“I want one,” Lilith screeched, reaching toward the nearest fruit.

Tatiana’s eyes opened, fear silvering them until they glowed. “Lilith, I don’t think you should have one of these.”

But Lilith shoved Mal out of the way so hard he hit the ground with an audible thud. She snatched one of the apples and shoved it into her mouth, chewing like a greedy little pig.

Tatiana made a show of trying to pry it away from her, but Lilith met her with a foot to the stomach and pushed her down, too. “My apple,” she cried, bits of white flesh flying out of her mouth.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but only a choking sound came out. Then she fell to the ground.

D
oc wrapped Fi in a hug like she hadn’t had in a long time. She leaned in and held on, the tension of the last few days gone from his body. He was her big kitty cat again, relaxed and happy. A deep purr rumbled out of him. She squeezed him once more before tipping her head back. “I still can’t believe Remo would kill his own sister just to tip the scales toward him becoming pride leader. What are you going to tell Rodrigo?”

Doc kissed her forehead before pulling her down onto the couch with him. He laid back, his long, hard body suddenly the most comfortable thing Fi had been in contact with lately. “The truth. I owe him that much.”

She put her hands on his chest and pushed up. “You sure that’s the best thing to do?”

He nodded. “Yes. Lies only complicate things. Rodrigo’s a good man. He understood about Heaven. He won’t be happy about what Remo’s done. In fact, if he’s mad about anything it will probably be that we can’t hand Remo over to him now that the police have him in custody. Issues like this need to be taken care of internally.”

“It
is
pride business.”

“I know. But turning Remo over to the cops was the only way to get Barasa and Omur released. Remo knew what he was doing when he insisted on bringing the police in.” Doc rolled his head from side to side. “He’s a slick one. He knew taking it public would keep him out of his father’s hands if things went south.”