Out for Blood (18 page)

Her head swirled with questions and disbelief. What had possessed him to act that way? She stopped a few steps toward her quarters, cold shards of realization digging into her brain as her body came alive. She sucked in a breath. Not only had she completely forgotten about trying to get information from him about the comarré, but getting anything out of him now would take vast amounts of torture.

He had played her and she’d fallen for each line of his song like a lovesick
gadje
standing in the crowd, pining after the Roma fiddler.
Fool
. No, not a fool if she didn’t fall for it twice.

She tossed her head back. Perhaps the comar had won this round, but the next time they met, she would show him just how much pain his soft human body could endure. That would cure him of his games.

Smiling as the scene unfolded in her head, she went to care for her child. Someday, all this would belong to Lilith. Until that day, Tatiana would do whatever necessary to protect it for her.

When Lola heard who the first othernatural captured was, she knew Malkolm and Chrysabelle wouldn’t be far behind, especially since the comarré had been with the shifter. Now the pair stood across from her desk.

Creek’s plan had worked out brilliantly. Better than either of them had anticipated. Now she’d not only get to make an example of the varcolai, but she’d also get to punish the vampire for refusing her request. She just wouldn’t let him know she’d remembered what he’d done. Not yet.

“I know why you’re here.” She spoke without bothering to look up from the nonessential paperwork she was examining intently. Let them think it was about them. Let them think what they wanted.

Mal shifted. “Good. Then we can dispense with the small talk. We want Doc—”

“So you think I’m an idiot, do you?”

Mal shook his head. “I never said that.”

“I did,” Chrysabelle answered quietly. “It was said in the heat of the moment and for that, I apologize. I still believe the curfew is a very bad idea.”

Creek snorted softly from his chair in the far corner.

Lola set the paperwork down. “Unfortunately, city hall is unequipped with a suggestion box, but I’ll make a note of your disapproval.” She stood. “Unless, of course, you’re a registered voter. Then you can express yourself next November.”

“I’m not a—”

“Citizen of this country. I know.” The information Creek had given her made this so much easier. “Unlike your mother, you’ve yet to take care of that. Or even make yourself useful to this city in any way.”

“Look here.” Chrysabelle started forward. “When you needed information on what was happening in this city and what had happened to your daughter, you had no problems talking to me and taking my advice then.” She glanced at Creek. “You of all people should have explained to her what a mess this curfew is going to make of things.”

He jerked one shoulder. “You’ve only been helpful when it suited you, comarré. Why should we help you now?”

“Creek, what is going on with you?” Her face fell. “I thought we had an understanding.”

He unfolded himself from his chair. “I
understand
that you have no interest in helping the mayor retrieve her grandchild.”

Angry shadows filled her eyes. She took a few steps forward. “You told me that was the KM’s mission. Not the mayor’s.”

Lola looked askance at her. “Did you think I’d leave my grandchild to rot with those creatures?”

“No, I just”—Chrysabelle glanced back at Malkolm—“I have some things of my own to deal with before I can take on someone else’s troubles.”

“Just like when my daughter’s killer was on the loose.” Lola came around to lean against the front of her desk. “Sometimes the greater good must come before our own wants and desires, but then you’d know that if you’d spent any time in the real world.”

Chrysabelle’s cheek twitched. “Finding my brother is not a
want
or a
desire
. It’s a need. He’s my family. And figuring out what’s happening to me physically? Also a need. Don’t tell me about the greater good. My entire life has been about the greater good.”

Malkolm stepped up beside her and put his hand on the small of her back. She seemed to calm at his touch. A spark of jealousy lit within Lola’s bosom. No wonder the vampire had turned down her offer. He didn’t need a free-spirited mortal woman when he had his obedient little blood pet. How had Julia lowered herself to that? Deep down, Lola knew. Because the vampire’s darkness called to the darkness in her, just as it must have for her daughter. “As to the reason why you’re here, there is no denying Maddoc is guilty of violating the curfew.”

Malkolm nodded. “You’re right. He’s guilty. We’re not arguing that. We want to work something out. Doc isn’t just any varcolai; he’s the leader of the Paradise City pride. Humiliating him like this could buy you more trouble than it’s worth.”

She laughed. “I love that you’re so concerned with how I come out in all this. Very touching.”

Creek sat back down in the chair, perching oddly on the edge. “This conversation is pointless.”

But Malkolm went on. “What happens in this city affects us all. Putting Doc on display will cause more unrest.”

Lola crossed one ankle over the other. “And your solution to this? Because I assume if you’ve come this far, you have a better idea.”

“I do,” Malkolm said. The comarré looked at him as though this was the first she’d heard of his alternative. “Let Doc go. Take me in his place.”

Chapter Eighteen

F
i sat waiting on the balcony of Chrysabelle’s guesthouse, watching the circular drive for the lights of Doc’s shiny new sports car. She sighed and kicked her feet onto the railing. By now, Doc and Chrysabelle should have been back. How long would they stay out looking for her?

She thought they would have searched the guesthouse, but not yet. She was tired of hiding. Bored of sneaking around the house, not daring to turn on the lights or holovision in case she got found out. But she was ready to be found now.

It wasn’t that she was over being mad at him. She was still mad and probably would be for a good long time. Unless his explanation and apology were world-class, which they’d better be, but she couldn’t judge that until she’d heard them.

Which is why she’d decided to show herself when they got back. Not that hiding out in Chrysabelle’s guesthouse was such a hardship, other than not being able to turn on the lights or TV. The place was nice. Maybe not as fancy as Doc’s new penthouse, but considering the guesthouse didn’t have a snooty Brazilian varcolai in it who deserved to be thrown out on her fancy, designer-clad butt, Chrysabelle’s digs were plenty nice.

Screw Heaven and her twelve-hundred-dollar shoes. Fi sniffed. Those should be her twelve-hundred-dollar shoes. That should be her in that penthouse with Doc. Not some dead man’s wife. She huffed out a breath. Pride law was stupid.

Maybe she should go down and let Velimai know she was here. Velimai was a good listener, and she might have some ideas about what to do with the whole Heaven/Doc situation. Beyond letting Doc do some groveling, because hell yeah, she’d earned some groveling.

Fi stood and peered over the edge of the railing, but from here she couldn’t see enough of the house to figure out what Velimai was up to. She inhaled, sniffing for the scent of something cooking, but apparently dinner was over. Too bad. Fi could eat. And unlike the freighter’s kitchen, Chrysabelle’s was always stocked and her fridge was always full. And not just with blood.

Fi shuddered at the thought as she made her way into the house and downstairs. If she lived to be a thousand, she’d never get how anyone, vampire or otherwise, could stand the taste of the stuff. She shuffled across the yard, wondering if she was setting off the pressure plate sensors installed beneath the sod. She’d arrived in her ghostly form and hadn’t touched anything until she was well inside the house.

As if in answer, the security lights flipped on, almost blinding her. She shielded her eyes with her hand and hustled to the front door. She pounded on it a few times with her fist. “Hey, Vel, it’s me, Fi.”

A few seconds later, the wysper opened the door. She took a quick look at Fi; then her eyes roamed the property behind her.
You alone?
she signed.

“Yep, just me.” She shrugged. “Did I trip the alarm?”

Yes.
Velimai tipped her head.
Doc’s looking for you.

“I know. He just wasn’t looking hard enough. I’ve been in your guesthouse.”

Velimai moved out of the way so Fi could come in.
Ready to make up?

“Maybe. Mostly tired of hiding. And hungry.”

Velimai laughed, a soft wheezing sound.
You always could eat.

Fi entered and headed toward the kitchen. “Hey, I like food. Is that such a bad thing?”

Not when it’s my cooking. I was just about to get some dinner. It’ll be good to have company.
Velimai shut the door and walked with her.
Besides that, I’m actually getting a little worried they haven’t returned yet.

“Why?”

About to reach for the fridge handle, Velimai paused to sign,
Because of the curfew.
She opened the door and began taking out leftovers.

Fi got plates down and began to set the table. “What curfew?”

Velimai closed the fridge.
Haven’t you heard? The mayor held a press conference. No othernaturals out from sundown to sunup.

“What? That’s crazy. Othernaturals have rights, too.”

Not as many as we used to. Wait, I’ll put the TV on and you can see for yourself.
Velimai walked into the living room and picked up the remote, tapping the touch screen. The holovision flared to life, projecting its image into the room, but no sound. Velimai tapped the screen a few more times, changing the channel until she hit the local news station.

A female reporter was standing in the town square. A crowd had gathered and other camera crews were milling about.

“What’s going on?” Fi tried to see past the reporter, but the camera lights didn’t extend enough into the darkness to show detail. “Turn it up.”

Velimai tapped the screen again until they could hear the reporter’s voice.

… the crowd behind me is only going to get larger as the night wears on, I’m sure. Especially with this new development.”
The reporter fiddled with an earpiece.
“Apparently, the varcolai who broke the curfew is being released due to a second othernatural taking his place. Can we zoom in on the action?”

“They caught someone already? Are they serious?” Fi shook her head. This was going to rile people up big-time.

The camera moved off the reporter to focus on the center of the square. Lights,
electric
lights, had been set up on tripods and aimed toward the area. The sudden brightness caused the camera image to flare; then the scene became clearer as the balance adjusted.

Between two posts set into the ground, a man was chained at his wrists and ankles. A very familiar man.

Fi fell to her knees, her hands at her mouth. “Oh no. Please no.” A sob caught in her throat. She swallowed it down. “That’s Doc.” She stared blindly for a few seconds more, no longer hearing what the reporter was saying. “I have to go to him.” She pushed to her feet, her stomach churning.

Wait,
Velimai signed frantically.
They’re releasing him.

“What?” Fi turned. Sure enough, a group of cops, dressed in heavy-duty SWAT gear, were unlocking the manacles on his wrists. Doc kept his head down, but Fi would have known him anywhere. “How did he let himself get caught? The pride is going to go crazy.”

Transfixed, Velimai just shook her head.

Fi went back to watching. They were leading Doc away now. Where to, she had no idea. “They better be releasing him and not just putting him in a cell somewhere.” Velimai nodded. Fi wished she wasn’t having the thoughts she was having, but the truth was, as much as she wanted Doc free, she didn’t want him going back to Heaven.

She rubbed her eyes. They had to get this worked out. She sat on the couch and leaned her head onto her hands. There had to be a solution. She couldn’t just walk away from him. Or could she? The ache in her heart and her soul at the very idea said there was no way. Not now, not after all they’d—

A slapping sound lifted her head. Fi looked up. Velimai was smacking the couch’s arm. She stopped and pointed at the TV.

Fi glanced at the screen. Doc was gone. The SWAT team was shackling his substitute into place. A new panic filled her as the camera zoomed in on the man’s face. “Oh no. That can’t be. Why would he do that?”

The man lifted his head as if he wanted to be seen.

The man was Mal.

Lord Syler and his Elder, Edwin, arrived first at Tatiana’s. Lord Grigor and Svetla were the last. “The last to arrive,” Tatiana spat out. “Can you believe that? They did it deliberately to show their contempt for me.” She growled from her spot on the raised dressing platform as the servants under Kosmina’s watch scurried around with the finishing touches.