Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) (38 page)

Mal nodded, then jerked his thumb at Creek. ‘Where we need to go, he probably shouldn’t come.’

‘You mean Seven?’ Chrysabelle asked. ‘I think they let a few humans in now.’

‘It’s not the human part that concerns me. It’s the slayer part.’

‘He’s going.’ Chrysabelle headed for the house. ‘He’s the only one who saw what Ronan did.’

Mal cursed under his breath and took off after her, so Creek did the same. Both men caught up to her in a few steps, but Mal kept the argument going. ‘You want to take a slayer into Dominic’s club? You really think that’s the best thing to do? Dominic might not appreciate it.’

She glanced back at Creek like she was reconsidering. ‘Dominic doesn’t need to know what Creek is.’ She pointed at Creek. ‘And you’re not going to say a word about being KM.’

He held his hands up. ‘My lips are sealed.’

Her gaze shifted to Mal. ‘Neither are you.’

‘Not a word,’ Mal said.

Getting inside the club could be invaluable for future missions. ‘In fact,’ Creek added. ‘I’ll be on my best behavior.’

Even if his best behavior meant a few fringe got ashed.

Chapter Thirty
 

D
oc floated and fell. Up. Down. Up. Down. In the abyss of ketamine, everything was nothing, and nothing made sense except the push and pull of unseen forces. His body had abandoned him, leaving him with the feeling of perfect weight-lessness. The universe swirled around him, through him. He became the universe. The Creator. The destroyer of all. Darkness filled his mouth and ears, scaled his eyes. He tried to grasp hold of something, tried to pull himself out, but he had no fingers. No hands.

He drifted.

Drifted …

Drifted …

The scalding scent of ammonia burrowed down through the darkness and yanked him out by the roots of his consciousness. He sputtered awake as he resurfaced. The ketamine sank its velvet claws a little deeper. He fought harder. Blurred images replaced the nothing. He lifted his sandpaper lids. Focused. Then wished he hadn’t.

Dominic stared down at him, the silver glow of his eyes
almost blinding. ‘So, Maddoc, it appears your day of reckoning is at hand.’

Doc groaned and struggled to sit so he wouldn’t die lying down. His brain told his arms and legs to move. They didn’t. Then he realized his hands and feet were bound. Without the drug in his system, he probably would’ve been able to snap the rope, but he was too weak. His tongue was missing. Or made of cotton. Why was he fighting the universe’s embrace? He relaxed. The dark curtain began to close around him again.

A hand slapped his face. ‘Wake up.’ Then a sigh. ‘How much did you give him?’

‘Enough,’ answered an Irish lilt.

‘Ketamine,’ Doc said, his voice protesting even as he was unsure why he was speaking at all. The powder had left his vocal cords raw, his throat like a slab of meat. Ketamine affected feline shifters the way laudanum did vampires. Maybe worse.


Si
,’ Dominic answered. ‘Not nearly so harsh as the combination you injected into me. But my mercy has a purpose.’ He strolled in and out of Doc’s field of vision. ‘I need you alive. At least a little while longer. Until my property is returned.’

It all came down to the blood. Life for Fi. Death for Doc.

‘I don’t have it,’ he ground out. He’d known this day would come from the second he’d shoved that needle into Dominic. He just hadn’t imagined it would come this soon.

Mind-numbing disappointment threatened to pull him back down into the k-hole. His eyes burned. This wasn’t supposed to have happened until he knew Fi was safe. He wanted to cry. If he couldn’t help her, he deserved death.

‘Where is it?’

Doc shook his head, a surge of emotion stealing his voice.

A fist slammed his jaw into the couch he’d been laid out on.
The pain woke him up more than the ammonia had, but he played it off. Let them think he was still whacked. Might give him a shot to break free.

Ronan leaned over, blocking the ceiling’s mural. His fist was cocked. ‘Where is it?’

‘Ronan, enough. I need him conscious,’ Dominic said. ‘Who has the blood, Maddoc? Aliza? Tatiana? Ronan told me where she is.’

Ronan. How did that limey get to be a part of this? Then Doc remembered that’s who’d bagged him out in front of Tatiana’s. He spat out a mouthful of blood, bitter with the drug coursing through his system. He wondered what had happened to Mia. If she was still alive. The sinking feeling returned, but this time anger came with it. Why not tell? Wasn’t going to make things any worse. ‘Aliza.’

A tirade of Italian spewed out of Dominic. Then a loud noise, like a fist pounding on a desk. A few moments later, Dominic was back in Doc’s face. ‘Since you gave my blood to the witch, you will get it back.’

‘Why should I? You’re going to kill me either way.’ He wiggled his toes, and for the first time since he’d woken up, they responded.

‘Get the blood back and help me put an end to Tatiana and I may not.’

Doc barked a laugh, raking pain down his throat. ‘Liar. You’re going to kill me first chance you get.’

Dominic grabbed a handful of Doc’s shirt and jerked him up. ‘Get the blood back for me, aid me in killing Tatiana, and I’ll let you live.’

Doc stilled, but kept his fingers working on the knots at his wrists. ‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’

‘I swear it on Maris’s grave.’

Doc still didn’t trust him, but it meant buying time. He nodded. ‘Deal.’

‘We get the blood first, before the witch can do anything with it.’ Dominic dropped him and the weight of Doc’s body crushed his arms into the cushions, ending his attempt to free his hands. Dominic walked away, but Doc could move his head enough to keep track of him. Dominic nodded to Ronan, then tilted his head at Doc. ‘Get the walking shackles on him. I want to leave as soon as possible.’

Ronan nodded. ‘I’ll take him out through the garage.’

Good. Maybe Ronan would screw up, give Doc a chance to bolt. He went back to work trying to loosen his hands.

‘No,’ Dominic said. ‘Take him out through the employee entrance. I want everyone who works here to be reminded of the consequences of crossing me.’

Ronan scowled. ‘Are you threatening my people?’

Since when did Ronan have people? Doc snorted in amusement. Ronan glanced over and Doc rolled his eyes back into his head, fluttering his lids for effect. When he checked back, Ronan was ignoring him. Doc took the opportunity to work one hand free.

Dominic pulled on his suit jacket. ‘You may be the fringe’s king, but I’m still their employer. I will do as I see fit in that capacity. You still want my help, you’d better move.
Capisce
?’

Snarling as Dominic strode out of the office, Ronan headed for the couch. Doc faked a moan as Ronan released his feet and then reached to his belt to unhook the leg chains. Thank you, Mother Bast. Doc shoved his knee into Ronan’s head with as much strength as he could gather, rolling himself off the couch and onto Ronan.

With his now-freed hands, he grabbed Ronan by the ears and slammed his head into the floor until the fringe stopped twitching. Then Doc dragged him to Dominic’s desk and used the leg shackles to attach Ronan to one of the carved legs. It wouldn’t keep Ronan from escaping when he came to, but it would slow him down. Any damage done to Dominic’s beloved desk was just a bonus.

He bolted from the office and headed for the employee exit that Ronan had meant to take. It was risky, but time mattered. As soon as Doc reached the door, he yanked it open and ran through.

Something tripped him and he fell hard onto his hands and knees. He turned to see what he’d stumbled over as the smell of death rose up around him.

Blocking the entrance was the body of wolf, a dark pool of liquid framing her familiar shape.
Mia.
Was that what Dominic had meant about the consequences of crossing him?

Doc’s body went taut with rage. All deals were off.

Tatiana waited by the car for Octavian. He’d just returned from dropping the shifter’s body at the nightclub, something she hoped would divert the attention of the comarré’s friends. Now Tatiana would capture the comarré. Octavian wanted to try his hand at making her talk. Tatiana smiled. Her child was so eager. If she had a heart, it would have warmed with his enthusiasm.

The property gates opened and Lord Ivan’s sedan pulled into the drive. The vehicle rolled to a stop and he stepped out, wobbling slightly. He lurched forward, grinning like the fool he was. Still, the expression seemed woefully out of place on his normally austere face.

‘Home so soon?’ Tatiana asked. She’d erroneously expected him to stay out until dawn. ‘The night has barely begun.’ And she had much to accomplish.

Ivan laughed. ‘I’ve forgotten the wicked pleasure of human blood. How the substances they douse themselves in can affect our kind.’ He hiccupped. ‘I’ve not only drunk my fill, but also gotten extraordinarily drunk.’ His brow rumpled in thought. ‘It seems I may have also imbibed an generous amount of narcotics.’

He laughed again, his voice high-pitched and verging on giggly. ‘I think I can hear the grass growing.’

Octavian came out of the house. ‘All ready to go after the comarré,’ he announced, then paused when he saw Ivan. He frowned apologetically at Tatiana. ‘I didn’t realize … ’

Ivan staggered toward Octavian, who folded in on himself like a child awaiting punishment. ‘What’s this? Tatiana’s lapdog is now one of the family?’

Tatiana braced for the rebuke. ‘Yes. I needed more help than Octavian could give me in human form. I thought it best—’

Ivan clapped Octavian on the back. ‘Splendid! Welcome to the fold, old man.’ He collapsed in a fit of soundless laughter.

Octavian caught Tatiana’s gaze and lifted an eyebrow. She shrugged in response. She’d never seen Ivan like this, but then she wasn’t aware that he’d had anything but comarré blood in his system for ages. Human blood carried consequences. If the host had indulged in alcohol or drugs of any kind, the vampire who drank from them would feel the effects as well. Obviously.

Ivan straightened to wipe the tears from his eyes. Then a curious look crossed his face. ‘Say, did you mention you were going after the comarré?’

Tatiana angled a look at Octavian, but what was done was
done. ‘Yes, Lord Ivan. The Nothos located her. We were just on our way to retrieve her and bring her back to—’

Ivan clapped his hands, then nearly skipped to the car Tatiana stood beside. ‘Marvelous! Let’s go. I’m starving.’

She exhaled a ragged breath. ‘I thought you were full? We can’t drain the comarré until she gives us the necessary information.’

‘Of course, wouldn’t dream of it. Just a taste, then.’ He half fell, half slid into the car.

Out of his sight, she rolled her eyes at Octavian. This was
not
how she’d planned to do this. At least intoxicated Ivan was easier to handle than lord-of-all-he-surveyed Ivan. She gestured to Octavian. ‘Let’s go.’

‘But … ’ He nodded at the car, clearly indicating their unexpected passenger.

She shrugged and shook her head. She had a feeling that even in this state, Ivan could turn vicious if provoked. Telling him he couldn’t come meant risking him taking his anger out on Octavian. There was no choice but to let Ivan accompany them. ‘I can handle him.’

Octavian sighed in acceptance, but the tightness around his mouth betrayed his nerves.

An hour later, he pulled the car onto the shoulder in the shadow between two streetlights outside the comarré’s estate. She’d persuaded Ivan to stay in the car until they came back with the comarré. Octavian turned off the engine and got out. She joined him, both of them keeping close to the wall.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

Tatiana nodded and closed her eyes, picturing the one person she was sure could get the comarré to come out of the house. Her former husband. Power swept through her and she opened her
eyes. Judging by Octavian’s face, the transformation was successful. ‘Let’s go.’ Her voice came out in Malkolm’s low growl.

Octavian swallowed. Was Malkolm that intimidating?

The soft whir of mechanics lilted through the night air. The estate’s gate opened. She and Octavian flattened against the wall. A car pulled out and as it turned through the streetlamp’s pool of light, she caught the face of the man whose body she currently wore. The comarré sat next to him. She caught sight of a third person, but she didn’t recognize him.

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