Chrysabelle leaned forward. “Is Katsumi no longer here?”

“She’s here. There’s just so much to take care of. The comarré business alone takes most of her time.”

“That’s partly why I’m here.” Chrysabelle took a breath. “I would like to speak to your signumist.”

Dominic tilted his head. “May I ask why?”

Her thumb rubbed the cane’s pearl handle. “I need some new signum.”

He smiled gently. “New signum? Cara mia, you have no room.”

“I do. On my back.” The signumist would tell him anyway. “I need to replace the signum that was stripped from me.”

The smile vanished as he stood up. “What? Why? I know what it is to undergo such a thing. Your mother took the last of her signum the first year of our affair. The pain was more than I thought a human could bear.”

“Dominic, I know very well what the pain is like.” She opened her arms, twisting her hands to flash a few of the numerous signum she still bore. “I need to get back to the Aurelian.”

“What for?”

“I have unfinished business with her.”

He snorted, throwing a hand in the air. “You are just like your mother. Ostinato.”

“Sometimes stubborn is good. Will you let me talk to him?”

His mouth leveled into a thin, hard line. “No. It is not for the best.”

“Tell him,” Mal urged her.

She responded with a look she hoped said no.

“Tell me what?” Dominic asked.

She exhaled. “Maris had a son. My brother. I need to see the Aurelian to find out everything I can about him. So I can locate him.”

Dominic’s mouth slowly parted. “Another child?” He shook his head. “I still don’t like it, but I will think on it.” He checked his watch. “There is something I need of you as well.”

Which might explain why he’d been so nice. “What might that be?”

After a quick glance at Mal, he continued. “I have two comarré here. A comarré and a comar, actually. They cannot stay here.”

“Why not? You’ve got plenty of space. Where do the rest of your comarré stay?”

“Except for a few special cases, they live in their own homes. But these are not my comarré. They are Primoris Domus comarré.”

She sat back, surprise flooding her. “How on earth did you get ahold of them?”

“They came to me. Escaped from Tatiana.” He lifted his shoulders. “They saw one of mine in the street and followed her here. Begged asylum. What was I to do? Throw them out to the Nothos? Let the fringe devour them?” He walked around to his chair and sat. “I am not an unkind man, Chrysabelle. Despite what you may think of me.”

“I don’t think that.” She did, however, think he was prone to unreasonable decisions, hasty judgments, and bouts of temper. “Still, I don’t understand why they can’t stay here. I’m sure they’d be willing to exchange blood for room and board, that sort of thing.”

“Perhaps, but I have yet to broach that subject with them. They are… a bit timid around me. And I cannot keep them here because I cannot protect them the way you can. Your house is warded, and no vampire can enter without an invite.”

Mal shook his head. “Tatiana doesn’t need any more reason to come after Chrysabelle. It’s a bad idea.”

The tiniest bit of silver sparked in Dominic’s eyes. “I would never put Chrysabelle in harm’s way. I will assign guards to the house.”

She stared at the carved, gilded legs of his desk. She had no desire to add to her household, especially not two comarré who would remind her every day of her past and what had been stripped from her, but neither did she wish to get on Dominic’s bad side. She sighed slowly. “I’m still recovering, you know.”

He clutched at his long-dead heart. “Bella, I would do nothing I thought might hinder you returning to full health. They will be quiet as mice.”

“They can move in on three conditions. One, I want to meet with the signumist tonight. Two, I want you or Mortalis to move them in—no one else comes onto the property. And three, I don’t want to see them. Not right now. Make sure they know that. My hospitality is not to be mistaken for an invitation to be friends.”

“Perhaps you are more stubborn than your mother.” He nodded, fingers steepled against his chin. “Agreed. It will be done.” He pressed a button on a small silver device resting on his desktop. “I’ll have Mortalis take you to the signumist. That doesn’t mean I support what you’re doing.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

A few moments later, Mortalis entered. “Chrysabelle, good to see you up and about. Mal.” He nodded in greeting before addressing Dominic. “You need me?”

“Take Chrysabelle to Atticus.”

His brows lifted a centimeter or two, but it was his only reaction. He turned to her, gesturing toward the door. “Follow me.”

The throbbing woke Creek. It radiated from his shoulder into the rest of his body like a raging infection, cutting through the fog of medication in his blood.

“You’re awake. Good.”

He opened his eyes but knew who’d spoken just by the scent of wolf filling his nose. He blinked as the green-walled room and the man standing over him came into focus. “Shouldn’t you be guarding the mayor?”