Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) (21 page)

Chapter Fifteen
 

‘F
i!’ Doc burst into the cargo hold, praying he could pull Fi out of her loop even if just for a few minutes. After his disastrous meeting with Dominic, Doc needed to see her more than ever. His mind was awash with revenge fantasies, but he knew those could easily take him down the wrong path. Fi could calm him. Refocus him. ‘Fi! If you can hear me, please come out. Please, baby.’

Seconds ticked by. He swept the flashlight down the narrow corridors created by the stacked rows of rusting storage containers. A rat scurried back into the shadows. ‘Fi, please, if you can hear me.’

Nothing. Not a flicker. Not a hint of her wispy image. His hand tightened on the flashlight, and the anger simmering in his gut began to boil. He was too late. She was gone and the next time he’d see her, she’d be moments away from being torn apart right before his eyes. And once again, he’d be helpless to stop it.

He slammed the side of his fist into one of the containers. The noise echoed through the cavernous space as he slumped to his knees. His eyes burned.

‘Doc?’

The voice brushed his skin. His head came up, his flashlight searching. ‘Fi? Baby?’

‘Here,’ she whispered.

She was a few yards up the passage. She kept her right side to him, strangely shy now that she’d begun to remember bits and pieces. Or maybe it was the way she looked. She’d never let anyone see her in her murdered form the first time she’d been a ghost. He shined his light on her, but it was too bright and she disappeared beneath its intensity. He tossed it away, blowing out a hard breath and offering her a shaky smile. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I thought you were gone. Until, you know … ’ No reason to complete that thought.

‘No.’ She smiled weakly, floating closer. ‘I’m here. It’s just hard to make myself visible too far out of the loop.’ She wiggled her fingers in front of her. They were as sheer as steam. ‘As you can tell.’

‘You look great.’

She ducked her head and a curtain of brown hair hid the blood streaking the front of her sweatshirt.

‘I don’t care about that.’ He pointed to the dark stain. ‘Or that.’ His finger moved in the direction of her throat, where the flesh lay open like some kind of horrible flower.

She twisted, hiding that side of herself. ‘Don’t.’

‘Fi, it’s okay.’ Shoulda kept his mouth shut.

‘It’s not okay.
I
am not okay.’

She flickered again and he wondered if she’d rather disappear than deal with her reality. He couldn’t blame her. He’d wished that for himself once upon a time. Before her.

‘You’re going to be fine. You’ll see.’ He ached to hold her, to pull her against him and tell her everything was going to be okay,
even though he was no closer to saving her than he had been a few hours ago. If anything, he was further from his goal.

‘You’re a bad liar.’ But her smile widened. ‘How did it go with Dominic?’

He dropped his head. He shouldn’t have told her about going to see Dominic, but he’d wanted to give her hope. What an idiot he was.

‘Not well, I guess.’ She laughed but the sound was almost a sob.

His head jerked up. ‘I’ll figure it out. I will. Don’t worry.’

She flickered, thinner than when she’d first shown up. ‘What did he say?’

Doc couldn’t bring himself to tell her. ‘I’ll talk to him again. Make him understand better.’ And he realized he meant those words. He would give Dominic one more shot. If he still didn’t offer up the required blood, Doc would find a way to get it. By whatever means necessary.

‘He won’t, though, will he?’ She started to cry, her image wavering and blinking in and out.

‘He will. He
will
. Don’t cry, baby.’ Doc had to get Fi back. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

She shook her head, her hair swinging free where it wasn’t clumped together with blood. ‘I don’t know what’s worse – remembering what my life was like before we went to Corvinestri, or not remembering. Too late now, I guess, since it’s all coming back.’

His mouth opened, but he kept quiet. She’d gone to Corvinestri because of him. He was to blame for this and he knew it. Sorry only went so far. ‘Maybe I should go. Give you some peace.’

‘No.’ She turned to face him full-on. ‘The only peace I have
is with you.’ Tears shimmered on her lower lids and streaked her pale cheeks. ‘Don’t leave, please. Not yet. Not until the sun comes up.’

‘You got it, baby.’ Anything to keep more tears from falling or causing her any more pain. He leaned against one of the storage containers and nodded toward the deck beside him.

She crossed her legs and floated down beside him, the brush of her ethereal form cool against his body. ‘Tell me about the first time we met.’

He laughed. ‘Again?’

‘Yes. I love that story.’

‘I’m aware.’ He began the story just as he had the last two times. ‘It was the second full moon after I’d been cursed, and the first one since my pride had thrown me out. Mal found me in an alley.’

‘Saved you from a pack of wild dogs, you mean.’

‘Yeah, that. He brought me back here—’

‘That was right after I tried to leave him and realized I couldn’t.’ Her mouth twisted a little.

‘I guess he thought fixing me up and letting you keep me as a pet would make you feel better. Course, in my animal form, there was no way for him to tell I was varcolai—’

‘And hardly an acceptable pet for a young woman such as myself.’ She snickered, pursing her mouth when he shot her a look.

‘Or anyone,’ he added. Not that he minded being her pet now. ‘For the length of the full moon, three nights and three days, I was barely conscious, unable to shift into human form even if I’d wanted to.’

‘Until … ’ The glee wrapped her voice like a Christmas ribbon, and he felt a thousand times lighter.

‘Until one warm afternoon, you carried me out into the sunshine, holding me in your arms like a … like a … ’

‘Baby doll,’ she whispered, barely controlling the naughty trill that sent her words an octave higher and his spirit soaring. ‘Except, I wouldn’t normally scratch a baby doll’s belly.’

He couldn’t help but smile. ‘Which is what woke me up and freaked me out into shifting back to my human form.’

The giggling started right on cue. She always cracked up during this part of the story. ‘Right in my arms. You knocked me down.’ Her laughter faded until she could speak again. ‘It’s not every day you end up with a large black man lying on top of you.’

‘Thankfully,’ he added, chuckling at the remembered image of her sprawled beneath him and looking shocked out of her skin.

She sighed and silence settled peacefully between them for a few minutes. He glanced over. Her eyes were closed, her head tipped back, a soft smile curving her mouth. He’d be thrilled, if she weren’t so see-through he could count the rivets in the storage container they leaned against. She wouldn’t last much longer. The thought stripped away his joy.

‘I’m glad you remember me,’ he said quietly, wanting to hold on to the moment for fear there wouldn’t be many more.

Her eyes opened. ‘Me too.’

His hands clenched as fresh anger surged through him. Didn’t Dominic understand this was more than just wanting to help a friend? This was the woman Doc loved. Wouldn’t Dominic have done the same for Maris? Of course he would have. He would have done anything for that woman.

A pinprick of an idea formed in Doc’s mind. As it grew, his sense of hopelessness shrank. He rested his head against the storage container and let his imagination take over until the plan
evolved into something concrete. Why hadn’t he thought of this already? The way to control anyone was to find their weakness and exploit it. Aliza and Dominic were not that different, they both wanted the same result. Doc had just been too wrapped up in his own needs to see things clearly. He jumped to his feet, ready to put things in motion. ‘Fi, I have to go, I … ’

But she had already disappeared.

The twelfth Nothos loped out of the fading fog, and Mal cursed under his breath. Facing down two of them in Corvinestri had been a different story. He’d had Doc, Dominic, and Mortalis to help. Not that Chrysabelle hadn’t held her own – she had, but the Nothos she’d killed then
had
gotten his claws on her. Only her body armor had saved her from serious injury, and she wasn’t wearing it now.

As a pack, the Nothos began to lurch forward, elongated jaws hanging open, piercing yellow eyes fixated on Chrysabelle.
Let them have her.

She whipped out her swords. Creek leveled his crossbow. Like that was going to be much help. Mal doubted those bolts would be enough to down a Nothos.
Then let them both die.

‘We each get four,’ Chrysabelle said softly. ‘I’ll take the ones in the middle, you two take—’

‘No,’ Mal interrupted. ‘I’ll take them all. You’re going to get the hell out of here. You’re the one they’re after.’ He wouldn’t allow harm to come to her, no matter what the situation was between them. Besides, with this much blood in his system, he could control the beast, use it, then shackle it up again. Probably.

‘Save the great-protector act, Mal.’ She kept her eyes on the approaching Nothos. ‘We’re doing this together. Just like last time.’

‘Last time there were two of them and five of us.’ He eased his control off the beast within and glanced at the KM. ‘Creek, get her out of here now and I won’t kill you the next time I see you.’

The slayer looked at him like his brains were leaking out his ears. Or maybe it was the names shooting black tendrils past the collar of Mal’s jacket. ‘Big assumptions, vampire. But it’s your funeral. Saves me some work.’ He nodded at Chrysabelle. ‘C’mon, my bike isn’t far.’

She pulled away, just as Mal knew she would, just as he’d expected the scowl on her face. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

The beast snapped its chains and roared with predatory joy. ‘Chrysabelle, they will capture you and take you back to Tatiana, who will torture you until you tell her where the ring is. We were too late to save Maris. I don’t want to be too late to save you.’

Her mouth thinned to a hard line. ‘I’m not happy about this.’

‘So noted.’ He shed his jacket to save it from the changes taking over his physical body.

‘If I go, you have to promise me not to kill Creek.’

Her desire to protect the slayer angered the beast. ‘Agreed.’

But she stayed rooted to the spot. The Nothos spread out into a semicircle, now less than a hundred feet away.

He could see by the look on Creek’s face that he hadn’t a clue about Mal’s curse. Already, the voices were expanding beyond his head, flowing into his muscles and bones. ‘Go,’ he commanded, his voice now layered with a multitude of others. ‘Let me do this.’

She nodded, her eyes soft with concern. ‘Be safe,’ she whispered.

His T-shirt tore across his broadening form. ‘I will. Now go.’

She sheathed her blades and backed into a staring Creek. ‘What’s happening to him?’

‘I’ll explain on the way.’ She tugged him along and he turned, glancing over his shoulder as they disappeared down the adjacent alley. The Nothos shifted in that direction, but Mal blocked their path. With Chrysabelle out of danger, Mal gave the beast its freedom. It stormed through him, scratching and clawing and leaving only a few fraying strands of control for Mal to cling to.

A couple yards away, the Nothos snarled as if they sensed their new opponent.

The beast snarled back with a mouth that held longer fangs and more teeth, then bent its head and plowed forward. It sliced out, claws shredding muscle and sinew.

Howls filled the beast’s ears and the stench of brimstone and blood bathed its nostrils like a sweet perfume.

The Nothos leaped onto the beast, raking its back with sickle-like talons, but it shook them off and shoved a fist into the maw of the closest one. Its fingers dug into the hellhound’s throat and tore out its spine. The Nothos crumbled, turning to ash as it fell.

Grabbing two more Nothos, the beast slammed their heads together. Brain matter splattered over its skin, hissing like acid. The beast laughed with a chorus of voices.

The Nothos hesitated. The beast did not. Dawn was coming and there was no time to waste. The host must be protected.

Other books

Peppermint Creek Inn by Jan Springer
Forbidden Fruit by Erica Storm
Spun by Sorcery by Barbara Bretton
Teeth by Hannah Moskowitz
The Dark Glory War by Michael A. Stackpole
Kiss And Dwell by Kelley St. John