Flesh and Blood

Fangs.

The coma of daysleep vanished.

He jarred awake to the voices’ metallic whine, the sick-sweet scent of jasmine, and the prickle of an unwelcome evil. Every grain of his being stirred with the knowledge that something was very wrong. Wake up!

He leaped away from the bed and the body filling the space next to him and flicked on the light.

Sprawled across his bed was the last woman he would have ever imagined and certainly not one he had ever hoped would end up there on purpose.

‘What the hell are you doing, Katsumi?’ The delicious feeling that had filled him when the woman in his dream had been someone else fled at the sight of Katsumi’s naked, tattooed body. Destroy her, the voices begged. How he’d like to.

Her laugh was soft, seductive, and completely unwelcome. ‘I am trying to atone for all that has gone on between us. I don’t want us to fight anymore, Malkolm.’ She fluttered her lashes and offered a coy smile. As if she could ever be considered coy.

‘You and I will never have that kind of relationship. You need to leave.’ He started toward a chair near the bed to get his shirt, remembering too late that his beast and the battle with the Nothos had destroyed it. That thought led him directly to Chrysabelle. Again. He hated not knowing if she was safe. ‘Get your clothes and go.’

‘Now, now,’ she chided him. ‘Your body was perfectly willing to have that kind of relationship just a moment ago.’ She slid out of the bed and sashayed toward him. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders to brush the top of her hips. The only thing covering her bodysuit of ink was a tiny red silk thong. The tattoos were far more interesting.

She stopped in front of him and rested her hands on her hips. ‘You like to look? Go ahead.’

The dragon curling over her shoulder glared at him. He forced his gaze to her face. ‘I don’t want to look or touch. I just want you to leave.’ Get her out now.

‘You’re not even going to let me make up for … you know?’ Her eyes glimmered with petulant humor. He knew that look from somewhere, but it wasn’t Katsumi.

‘For poisoning me? For trying to get me killed?’ He laughed. ‘You think sex is going to make up for that? How cheap do you think I am? Don’t answer that.’ He shook his head and reached for his jeans. ‘Besides, you’re bloody mental if you think I have the slightest desire to swim in the same waters as Dominic and Ronan.’

‘Dominic?’ She looked genuinely stricken.

‘Did you think people didn’t know? Why else would he have made you manager?’ He stepped into his pants, turning away to zip up. The idea of sex with Katsumi made his long-lost soul shudder. The voices agreed.

‘You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?’ The anger in Katsumi’s voice was unmistakable. And oddly familiar.

‘No,’ he answered, already knowing who Katsumi referenced. The blood whore.

She shrieked and the air shifted. He spun in time to catch her hand before it raked his back. ‘Of course you’re sleeping with her. You knew exactly who I was talking about. That filthy comarré whore—’

Anger shot through Mal and he backhanded her. ‘I told you never to speak of her that way again. I should cut your tongue out.’

A flicker of silver lit her eyes, gone so fast he wasn’t sure he’d seen it. He grabbed for her arm to get a better look, but she snatched her discarded clothes and ran for the door. ‘You’ll be dead before that happens.’

‘Good riddance.’

She slammed the door. Just as well. Daylight or not, he had to find Chrysabelle. He put his jacket on and left. Katsumi had already vanished from the hall. Maybe she’d stormed back to her room. Who cared, just so long as she was gone.

He knocked at Dominic’s office door, not sure where else to start.

Doc opened it.

Not the person he’d expected to see, but apparently there was a lot of that going around today. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same thing, bro.’

‘Chrysabelle and I went to investigate those fringe deaths. Ran into a pack of Nothos on the wrong side of midnight. This was the closest shelter. You?’

‘Long story. Where’s Chrysabelle?’

‘I’m not sure.’ But he had an idea, which was the problem. A Mohawked slayer kind of problem.

‘You think she went back to the freighter?’

‘No.’ Call it a hunch.

‘Then why didn’t she come with—’

‘Out of the way.’ Mortalis pushed past Mal, a bound female form in his arms. ‘Help me get her unwrapped.’ He laid her on one of the couches and began to peel a layer of duct tape from the woman’s head.

‘Who is it?’ Mal asked.

‘Not sure. No one’s been reported missing. I’ve been helping out with security since Ronan disappeared and heard thumping coming from the storage room by Vanity. Found her.’ Every layer of tape Mortalis pulled off revealed another one. ‘If she’s a breather, she can’t have much time left.’

‘Stand back,’ Doc said. He popped a sharp claw from one finger and scored the casing down the middle.

‘Careful,’ Mortalis said.

‘I’m always careful with the ladies.’ Doc stood back. ‘I’ll unwrap her head while you two finish the body.’

Mortalis worked his fingers under one edge. ‘Take the other side, Mal.’