Bad Blood

“You didn’t do it, Doc.” Chrysabelle scooted forward. “You can’t hurt people in a dream.”

Creek shifted. “He should come with us to the mayor’s. She’s going to want to hear this.”

Doc narrowed his eyes. “What’s the mayor got to do with this?”

Creek stared at him for a long second. “The dead comarré was her daughter.”

“That’s just flippin’ great.” Doc muttered a curse that got him a raised brow from Chrysabelle. “You going to tell her about her grandchild?”

Creek, Mal, and Chrysabelle looked at each other. Chrysabelle spoke first. “I don’t think we should. Not yet anyway. That’s a lot of information to process in one lump.”

Mal nodded.

“Agreed,” Creek said before turning back to Doc. “And just because that’s not enough to deal with, there’s an ancient one in town.”

Doc leaned back. “An ancient one?”

“A Castus.” Chrysabelle’s eyes held a dark light. “Like what we were up against at Tatiana’s in Corvinestri.”

Doc swore again. “This day just gets better, doesn’t it? What else? Tatiana here yet? Ronan suddenly come back from the dead?”

Mal shook his head. “Creek’s going to work on finding out about Tatiana, but Ronan’s not even worth talking about. No vampire could come back after what that gator must have done to him.”

“Also…” Chrysabelle raised her hands. “Mal, Creek, Mortalis, and I are going to see Dominic tonight after we talk to the mayor. We plan on borrowing his plane because I have to go to New Orleans to see the fae elektos about getting the ring back.”

Mal’s face darkened, his eyes glinting with silvery displeasure. “She’s getting her signum put back on so she can see the Aurelian one last time.”

Doc wasn’t in any position to tell someone what was safe and what wasn’t, so he just nodded. Nor did he need to know how the elektos had come by the ring in the first place. “NOLA isn’t a very friendly place for vampires. Hasn’t been for years. They know you’re coming?” he asked Mal.

“No, but we’ll work it out.” He downed the rest of the blood in his glass and set it on the side table.

Chrysabelle nodded. “Mortalis will be with us, too. The thing is, I’d like you to stay here while we’re gone. You and Fi both. With the two new comarré on the property—”

“What’s up with that?” Fi interjected.

“Favor to Dominic,” Chrysabelle answered before continuing. “It would just be nice if you could be here, provide an extra set of eyes.” She exhaled slowly. “And I think, considering the circumstances, the visiting comarré should stay in the house, too. Regardless of the new security measure I’ve had installed, it’s too dangerous with a Castus on the loose. I may not want them here, but neither do I want them dead.”

“Sure,” Doc said. “Be happy to.” And in truth he was. Time away from the freighter and the nightmares he’d been having there would be a good thing. Maybe sleeping in a new bed would give him the first peaceful sleep he’d had since walking through Aliza’s smoke. And maybe it wouldn’t. But Mephisto Island was a long ways from the abandoned shipyard and rusted-out freighter he’d called home for the last few years.

Change could be a good thing.

“You go through weapons like a child goes through sweets,” Argent said, dropping the new halm and crossbow Creek had requested on the workbench he used as a kitchen table. The halm rolled to a stop beside Creek’s motorcycle helmet.

Not exactly that fast, Creek thought, but held his tongue. You didn’t argue with the sector chief. Not a sector chief who was also a dragon varcolai. He picked up the weapons, tested their weight. They seemed identical to the ones he’d lost. “It’s all in the line of duty.” He turned as Argent did, unwilling to let the dragon-shifter get out of his peripheral range.

“Try not to lose this, too.” Argent tossed something his way.

Creek dropped the halm and caught the sleek black rectangle just in time. It was no bigger than his palm, but weighty enough to be more than just the slab of glass it seemed to be. “What is it?”

“Tap the front.”

Creek did. It lit up. “I thought phones were a security issue?” Not to mention crazy expensive since the supplies of rare earth were so tightly controlled.

“This one is completely secure. And for KM use only.” The sector chief stopped and blinked the inner membrane over his unnerving green eyes. “All the numbers you need are programmed in.”

“How very full service.” Creek tucked the device into his front pocket. Now the KM could find him wherever he was. Hell. Nothing like being monitored 24-7. He’d had enough of that in prison.

Argent rested against one of the steel support poles holding up the sleeping loft. “This thing that attacked you. You’re sure the creature was one of the ancient ones?”

“Positive.” He picked the weapons back up and slid them into place on his chest holster, comforted by their presence against his body. “What else would light up like that from biting me?”

Argent lifted a brow. “Any vampire. The brands you wear ensure that level of protection.”

Creek stilled the urge to comment on a level of protection that required being bitten to kick in. But then considering those brands had been burned into his skin in the first place… He took a few steps back to lean against the sink. He’d kill for a beer, but he needed a clear head for tonight. “This wasn’t a vampire. I’ve been bitten before; there was never this much fire or this much pain. Trust me.” Not that the KM really trusted its grunts. Not from what he’d seen so far. He was just a tiny cog in what he suspected was a very large machine.