Out for Blood (35 page)

“I was just about to offer,” Barasa said.

Doc squeezed Fi’s hand. “They’ll take good care of you, baby. And don’t worry about tonight. No matter what happens, you’re going to live through it.”

Fi didn’t look convinced. “What if Heaven changes her mind about letting me claim mercy?”

Doc stared into her eyes a long, hard second, trying to see past the scared college student and find the ghost girl who’d lived with Mal’s demons long enough to know how to handle herself. “I’ll kill her before that happens.” And in his heart, he knew that’s exactly what would happen before he let harm come to Fi.

Barasa stepped forward. “Omur and I won’t let you do that.”

Doc snorted. “I thought you were here to help.”

Omur nodded. “We are. What Barasa meant is that we’d do it for you. That way you can remain pride leader.”

Without a word, Doc clasped the other varcolai’s hand. “To victory, then.”

“To victory,” they both responded.

Or death
, Doc thought. If a woman had to die in this arena tonight, he prayed to Bast it wasn’t Fi.

Lola hung the phone up and pinched the bridge of her nose, but the hospital administrator’s voice still rang in her ears. He’d called to complain about losing ten of his night-shift nurses and demanded she lift the curfew.

As angry as his words had left her, she wondered if maybe it wasn’t time to do exactly that. She’d have to lift the curfew anyway if she ever managed to become a vampire herself. She drummed her nails on the desk. Why couldn’t Dominic have been more cooperative? Surely by now his pocket must be hurting.

She checked the time on her desk clock. An hour until sunset. Her finger tapped the intercom. “Have the car brought around, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Since John had quit, Valerie had cooled toward her. Still doing her job with efficiency, but without the warmth and friendship that had once been there. Yet another casualty of protecting the city.

Lola shook her head as she buttoned up her desk, grabbed her briefcase, and headed out. “Good night, Valerie.”

Her administrative assistant nodded without looking up from the filing she was doing. “Good night, Madam Mayor.”

Lola sighed. “I know you’re upset over the curfew and I’m sure your affection for John has—”

“I would prefer not to discuss my private life.” Valerie shut the filing cabinet firmly. “And yes, like most of the people in this city, I don’t care for the curfew, but my opinion isn’t going to change it, so I see little point in discussing that either. Is there anything else you need today?”

“No.” Lola walked to the elevator without further comment, her mind made up. In the course of the hour, she went home, changed into more appropriate evening attire, and had her driver take her to Dominic’s nightclub, Seven.

As she suspected, there was no crowd outside the velvet ropes, just two bored doormen. She exited the car and strode forward, refusing to allow herself to be fearful. She was the mayor. Her security team knew where she was. No one would harm her. At least they wouldn’t get away with it if they did.

The closer she came to the front door, the more familiar one of the doormen looked. “John?”

He lifted his chin slightly. “Madam Mayor.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She supposed he had to work, but to take a job that blatantly flaunted the curfew cut her.

“I was thinking the same thing about you.” He tipped his head to look around her. “You should have security with you.”

“Do I have something to fear?”

“You must. Otherwise there’d be no need for that curfew.”

Touché. “I’m here to discuss that very thing with Dominic.”

He unclipped the velvet rope separating them. “I’ll lead.”

She gave him a little insincere half-smile. “How very kind of you.”

He didn’t answer, just walked toward the doors, so she sailed after him with a confidence she didn’t feel. Inside she was greeted with a second set of red doors painted with gleaming gold dragons. John pushed one open, holding it behind him as he went. A wave of music hit her like a blast of hot air. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. She’d never been in a club so dark, but then better-than-human night vision was part of being an othernatural, wasn’t it? That would be a nice perk.

She shuffled her feet as she eased forward, trying not to run into John. As her inadequate vision adapted to the low light, she realized the club was essentially deserted. Servers milled aimlessly about while go-go dancers leaned against their cages or dangled from their swings. She squinted, trying to find John.

Instead, her gaze hung up on the blond-haired, gold-tattooed men and women sitting around chatting with each other. Her heart clenched. Those were the comarré. Just like her daughter had been. Had any of them known Julia? Maybe she’d talk to a few of them, see if—

“Humans aren’t allowed in here. Not without an othernatural.” A server with gray skin and six fingers blocked her path. “You here with someone?”

“With me.” John stepped between them and took her arm. “Stay close.” He started off again, pulling her along.

“I was trying to. It’s a little dark in here for human eyes.”

He slowed but said nothing. They walked for quite a ways, diverting from the main floor to head through a series of impossibly descending concrete halls lit by phosphorescent paint. After a maze of turns, they stopped outside a door. John knocked. A voice called, “
Si
, come in.”

John stuck his hand toward the door. “All you.” Then he walked away.

She swallowed down the fear that had taken hold of her throat again. She could do this. His business was obviously suffering. He needed the curfew lifted much more than she did. Straightening herself, she opened the door and walked into Dominic’s office.

Except Dominic wasn’t there.

“
Ciao, bella
. What can I do for you?” If not for the fangs he proudly displayed, she wouldn’t have been sure the man who’d greeted her was actually a vampire. Something about him just didn’t read that way. He was lean and ropey like a long-distance runner, his dark complexion reminding her of Dominic, but with an edge. Despite their one encounter, Dominic had struck her as a smooth character, a man used to getting his way. “I’m looking for Dominic.”

“Ah, I am so sorry, but Dominic is not available. I am his nephew, Luciano. And you are?”

“I am the mayor of Paradise City, but you can call me Lola.”

“Lola,
cara mia
, it is my great pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, brushing his cool lips across her knuckles. She shivered. “You are a very important mortal, no? Perhaps I can help you with something?”

Being referred to as mortal, important or otherwise, reminded her of her mission. She eased her hand from his grasp as wheels in her head began to turn. She smiled at the plan forming in her thoughts. He smiled back and she had a good feeling this evening was going to go exactly the way she wanted it to. “You can help me. May I sit?”

“
Mi scusi! Si
, come in, sit down.” He moved out of her way and held his hand toward a pair of beautiful antique chairs.

“Thank you.” A wealth of antiques filled the office, but the centerpiece was an impressive marble-topped desk. Dominic had expensive taste. He had to be hurting. She took one of the chairs.

Luciano sat across from her, not behind the desk as she’d expected. He pinched the knife-edge crease of his trousers to straighten it. When he looked at her, his eyes held one of the most calculating stares she’d ever seen. It was as though he were sizing her up, measuring how fast she could run, how quickly she’d react. How loud she’d scream. “My uncle tells me you are the one responsible for the curfew.”

“Yes, I am. That’s why I’m here, actually.” How much had Dominic told him? Not too much, hopefully. “Your uncle and I had discussed the possibility of ending the curfew. Did he mention that to you?”

“No, I am afraid not. You would be so kind as to fill me in?”

Luciano blinked far too little for her liking. She swallowed and prayed that he was telling the truth and that her lies came off sincerely. She crossed her legs. His gaze drifted from her face to watch. The little black dress had been the right choice. “The matter is simple. I am willing to drop the curfew so that your uncle’s business may resume and the lives of all othernaturals will return to their normal routines. However—”

“You want something in exchange.”

She laughed, her nerves showing through more than she liked. “Isn’t that the way of the world?” She rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and stroked the underside of her jaw. Again, his gaze followed. “I would ask that men of power like your uncle and yourself urge the othernatural community to be patient with the mortal citizens of the city.”

“That is not such a difficult thing.” He sucked his bottom lip between his tongue and teeth, his fangs scraping the skin almost audibly. Then he smiled and this time, it reached his eyes, lighting his entire face with a wickedness that sparked something deep in her belly. Did all vampires cause weakness in mortal women? He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But that is not all you desire, is it, Lola?”

Again, she swallowed, but this time it was to rid her mouth of the saliva pooling there, not to control her fear. If he was using some sort of power over her, it was working. Very well. “No,” she breathed. Her fingers traced the wide neckline of her dress. If he rejected her… “I want to be turned.”

He sat back and squinted as if he didn’t understand. “Turned?”

Her hands dropped to her lap and she twisted the gold and onyx ring on her pinkie. “I want to be made vampire.” She waited for him to laugh or yell or throw her out. When he did none of those things, she glanced up.

His intense stare met her. “Why?”

There was no derision in his question, just honest curiosity. It emboldened her to tell him the truth. “My daughter was one of Dominic’s comarré, but she was murdered—maybe you heard about that?”

He nodded ever so slightly.

“Before she died, she had a baby with a vampire named Preacher.”

“I have also heard of him. He is not like the rest of us.”

“No, he isn’t.” Except that he wouldn’t turn her either. “The baby is half vampire. And while I have plenty of experience being human, I don’t think I can raise a child like that without personally understanding what it means to be a vampire.”

He nodded. “That seems… reasonable.”

“That’s not my only reason. I believe being vampire would enable me to be the best mayor possible for Paradise City. I could serve both the mortals and othernaturals equally well. Understand each side and their needs. And ultimately, by becoming a vampire, I would be siding with your kind should any difficulties with the varcolai or fae arise.” She smiled, hoping he saw the logic in her argument.

He tapped his long fingers on his knee. “You would have no choice but to lift the curfew if you were vampire.”

Light filled her vision. “That’s right.”

“Being sired is painful. Frightening.” His voice became quieter, more serious. “Some do not survive.”

“I know and I am prepared. Pain does not frighten me. I have lost a child. What greater pain can there be? And I know I will survive because I want it so badly.”

He stood and held his hand out to her. “Come. This is not the place. And I have… requirements of you before we undertake this thing, yes?”

She hesitated in taking his hand. “Are you saying you’ll turn me?”

“I am,
cara mia
.” He laughed softly. “But not until I am satisfied.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

T
he chartered jet was in the hangar just as planned when Mal and Chrysabelle arrived that evening. The plane wasn’t as large as Dominic’s but it would do. Mal had to hand it to Mortalis. When the fae said he’d do something, he did it. Jerem pulled Chrysabelle’s car inside and popped the trunk to unload their things while she and Mal got out.

“You’re late,” Mortalis called out as he jogged down the jet’s steps.

“Dominic’s tailor had to make a few adjustments to my suit,” Mal answered. “Plus we stopped at the freighter on the way.”

Mortalis nodded. “That’s fine. We’re fueled and ready to go. I’ll help with the bags.”

“Thanks.” Chrysabelle went around to the trunk, pulled her sacres out, and slung them over her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t bring the swords into the ball, she’d brought them anyway. Mal couldn’t say as he blamed her. There was comfort in being well armed. She took one small bag from the trunk while Jerem got the rest. “Where’s the pilot? I’d like to meet him.”

“I’m right here.” A familiar gray-skinned figure waved from the jet door.

“Amery!” Chrysabelle waved back as she walked toward the jet. “I didn’t know you flew.”

“One of my many talents.” He came down a few steps. “Malkolm, nice to see you.”

Mal grabbed the handle of his worn leather satchel. “You too, kid.” Having another fae on board wasn’t a bad thing. Amery had been helpful enough when they’d been in New Orleans. If the need came to defend the plane against vampires, the shadeux and their ability to possess soulless creatures would come in very handy.