Blood Rights

‘Enough,’ Mal said. Chrysabelle approached, but he held up his hands. ‘Stay over there with Fi and Solomon. You don’t want to see this. Or get any closer to the smell.’

Shreds of Nothos plastered the car’s interior. Pools of yellow blood soaked the carpet. Strings of sinew and tendons hung from the bar. Rusty black bones lay strewn about. Lots and lots of bones. Mal’s eyes watered from the stench. Too bad it’s not you.

‘I’m sure I’ve seen worse. And I can already smell it.’ She stopped next to Mal, blinking hard. ‘Wow, that is nasty.’

‘Yes, thanks for pointing that out again.’ Mortalis wiped more entrails off his face.

Chrysabelle poked at a lump of flesh on the interior door handle. ‘Wonder why it didn’t turn to ash?’

Mortalis tapped the tip of one filigreed horn. ‘Too much silver contact, maybe.’

The driver pushed his door open and rushed behind a marble monument. The sounds of vomiting followed. Mal lifted a brow. Stepping off the public road and onto the hallowed cemetery ground would be like walking on razor blades. Maybe fringe didn’t feel it as strongly as the noble-blooded. Or maybe the driver thought getting sick in front of everyone else was worse. Mal had never seen a vampire – even a fringe – lose his accounts over a little gore. He looked back at the car’s interior. Okay, more than a little gore.

The driver hurried back to the road. Wisps of smoke curled off his skin. No way was stepping foot on that soil better than puking in front of people.

Mal grimaced, then turned back to Mortalis. ‘What did you do to it exactly?’

‘I turned it inside out.’ Mortalis climbed out. Everyone backed up. ‘Trust me, it was halfway there on its own trying to get at me.’

Dominic cursed in Italian. ‘Now what? That Nothos was our way in.’

Mal shut the car door. ‘We’ll figure out a different plan.’ Maybe they could force their way in?

‘We’re wasting time,’ Dominic said. ‘Marissa could be dying. There’s no telling what Tatiana will do to her.’ He patted his chest and glass clanked from his breast pocket. ‘I came prepared to blast us in if need be.’

Mal snorted. ‘So much for subtlety.’

Dominic scowled. ‘You have a better idea?’

‘I know another way in.’ Chrysabelle squinted and rubbed her forehead as though a headache pounded the back of her eyes. ‘There are underground tunnels that connect the major estates. I can get us in, so Solomon can stay behind.’

‘You’ve known this all along?’ Anger flickered in Dominic’s eyes. ‘Why didn’t you say something sooner?’

Chrysabelle’s hands went to her hips and the pulse in her neck jumped. ‘You of all people should understand about comarré keeping secrets.’

‘Stupido.’ Dominic threw his hands in the air. ‘Apologize, Dominic.’ Mal’s temper flared hot beneath his skin. The beast lifted its head. He understood Dominic had a personal stake in this, but Mal would not abide Chrysabelle being disrespected. ‘Talk to her like that again and I’ll break your neck. Or she can do it herself.’

Looking less than penitent, Dominic sketched a shallow bow. ‘Scusi.’ Blowhard. The vampire must have been a real joy before he turned anathema. What had Chrysabelle’s aunt ever seen in him? More than Chrysabelle will ever see in you.

Mortalis flicked a piece of skin off one of his horns. ‘Well, I’m out. There’s no way I can go in there smelling like this. They’ll scent me immediately.’

Mal pointed at him. ‘You stay here and protect Fi and Solomon. Solomon, cyphers can set wards as well as break them, correct?’

Solomon bowed his head. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Then set one around this perimeter. Chrysabelle, I assume you know how to get to these tunnels from here?’

Her eyes stayed on the ground. Clearly, she was not happy to have revealed this secret to so many. ‘I can guide us in from the village sewers.’

‘Good.’ Mal glanced at Doc. ‘You and Dominic need to put the past behind you for tonight.’

Dominic stood at the edge of the road, staring into the head-stones and monuments. He looked back and shrugged one shoulder. ‘For Marissa, of course.’

Doc nodded. ‘So long as I get to kill something.’

‘All right then, Mortalis, you’re in charge here. You’ve got the map Chrysabelle drew. Get the car in the proximity of the estate in an hour.’ Mal glanced at the others as they gathered around him. ‘Let’s go.’

A half hour later and the four of them slogged through ankle-high brown water and debris that Mal didn’t want to look too closely at. Weak solars spaced every few yards offered little light and dripping water echoed through the dim tunnels.

He was surprised Chrysabelle could see to lead them as well as she was. She hadn’t faltered once, only slowed. A rat scurried past along the pipes bolted to the wall, squeaking its displeasure at the strange intruders.

Doc’s stomach rumbled. Mal shot him a look.

Doc shook his head. ‘Don’t go there with me, vampire. You drink blood.’

‘Quiet.’ Chrysabelle held her hand up and stopped before a fork in the tunnel. Both sides of the divergence were gated. ‘I need better ears. Do you hear voices coming from either of these tunnels?’

Mal heard a lot of things – the buzz in his head, the pleasurable hum of her pulse, the drip and splash of the water, the patter of vermin feet – but he listened past all that and focused on what the paths held. Faintly, like rain falling on a distant window, the drone of conversation reached him. He nodded. ‘I hear voices coming from both.’