Flesh and Blood

‘We scared them off,’ Creek said, shouldering his weapon.

Doc snorted. ‘You don’t scare Nothos off. Fear isn’t something they understand, it’s what they create. Something’s up.’ He jumped down to the grass shoulder. ‘I’m going after them.’

‘On foot?’

Doc shot Creek a look. ‘What? You can’t hang?’

‘I can hang as long as you can.’ Creek dropped onto the grass beside him. ‘Don’t you want to shift?’

Doc almost laughed. ‘I’d love to shift.’

‘Then do it. Won’t bother me.’

Like upsetting him was even a concern. ‘I can’t shift. Not fully.’ He morphed to his half-form. ‘This is as far as I can go.’

‘What’s up with that?’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Doc took off in a long, easy stride after the Nothos. Creek kept up without much effort. When they got too close, they slowed until the distance between them and the Nothos stayed safe and unnoticeable. Every once in a while, Doc glanced over his shoulder. His hackles were up, but he couldn’t figure out why. If there was a Nothos behind them, it was doing a killer job of staying hidden.

Over the Mephisto Island bridge and into Paradise City, then across another causeway and into a different neighborhood. Nice, but not as primo as Mephisto. They’d traveled almost an hour. Creek showed no signs of tiring. Doc reassessed the man beside him. ‘Chrysabelle says you’re a slayer.’

‘Mmm-hmm.’

‘She says you’re Kubai Mata. I thought the KM was a kiddie tale.’

‘Nope.’

So that’s how it was going to be? One-word answers? What kind of chump did this player think Doc was? He stopped short and grabbed Creek’s arm. ‘Listen to me, slayer. I don’t know what game you’re running, but you hurt Chrysabelle and I will rain hell down on you.’

Creek had enough sense not to laugh. ‘I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here to protect her.’

‘Then keep your hands and your mouth off her.’

Creek jerked his arm out of Doc’s grasp. ‘My business with the comarré is no concern of yours.’

Chrysabelle’s kindness in opening her home had brought out a protectiveness Doc hadn’t felt for anyone but Fi in a long while. ‘It is when she’s my friend. She’s not meant for you, slayer.’

That got Creek to laugh. ‘Oh, who is she meant for? Mal?’

‘Yes.’

‘You really believe that, don’t you?’

‘Yes. And so does Mal.’ Again the feeling of being watched ran over his skin like ants.

‘Who she’s with is her choice.’ Creek started after the Nothos, now no longer in sight.

Doc let it drop, picking up his pace to match the slayer’s. Minutes passed in uncomfortable silence, but they covered more ground, finally catching up to the Nothos again.

‘They’re slowing,’ Creek whispered.

More than slowing, they were scaling the wall of another estate, disappearing one by one over the side. ‘They’re going home.’

‘Back to Tatiana.’

‘Yes.’ The last Nothos vanished over the wall. Doc turned to Creek. ‘I’m going to do some recon. You in?’

In answer, Creek leaped to the top of the wall. No way could a human have done that. The brother was definitely enhanced. He looked down at Doc expectantly.

A second later, Doc stood beside him. He inhaled, catching the stench of the Nothos. He tapped the side of his nose, then pointed forward. Keeping to the top of the wall, they followed the odor.

Once the wall veered away from the roadside, palms and magnolias clustered against it, giving them cover. They slunk forward, now on all fours, moving cautiously. The smell of brimstone grew stronger.

Through the trees, they watched the Nothos file into the property’s guesthouse. On the driveway connecting the two, a male vampire carried a bound and gagged female toward a high-end sedan.

Doc pushed some palm fronds out of the way to see better and caught sight of the woman’s face. His blood chilled. Mia. Despite the bruises on her face, he recognized her. Pasha’s claims of seeing her death filled Doc’s head.

The vampire threw her onto the backseat, slammed the door, then got in behind the wheel. The car headed for the gated entrance.

Doc grabbed Creek’s arm. ‘I know that girl. I’m going after her. You get back to Chrysabelle’s, tell her we found Tatiana.’

Without waiting for an answer, Doc threaded past Creek, under the palms and back to the road. The car was already through the gate, its taillights red as embers a few yards up the road. Wherever that vampire was taking Mia, it couldn’t be good.

He jumped down, ready to run. A hand closed over his arm. He whirled around to see Ronan. ‘What are you—’

Ronan clamped a rag over Doc’s nose and mouth. ‘Time to pay the piper, shifter. Imagine finding you and Maris’s killer in one night. Dominic is seriously going to owe me.’ Powder on the cloth clung to Doc’s mouth and nostrils, the bitter taste an instant warning. He struggled not to breathe, but his heart jackhammered in his chest. He thrashed out at Ronan, but the fringe dodged him. At last Doc inhaled, choking as the powder clogged his airway. His throat burned and the taste of dirty nickels coated his tongue. The back of his brain went numb.

Ketamine.

A thick, heavy curtain closed around him. The ground under him fell away and he slipped down, down, down into a blackness as endless as death.