Flesh and Blood

Tatiana waited by the car for Octavian. He’d just returned from dropping the shifter’s body at the nightclub, something she hoped would divert the attention of the comarré’s friends. Now Tatiana would capture the comarré. Octavian wanted to try his hand at making her talk. Tatiana smiled. Her child was so eager. If she had a heart, it would have warmed with his enthusiasm.

The property gates opened and Lord Ivan’s sedan pulled into the drive. The vehicle rolled to a stop and he stepped out, wobbling slightly. He lurched forward, grinning like the fool he was. Still, the expression seemed woefully out of place on his normally austere face.

‘Home so soon?’ Tatiana asked. She’d erroneously expected him to stay out until dawn. ‘The night has barely begun.’ And she had much to accomplish.

Ivan laughed. ‘I’ve forgotten the wicked pleasure of human blood. How the substances they douse themselves in can affect our kind.’ He hiccupped. ‘I’ve not only drunk my fill, but also gotten extraordinarily drunk.’ His brow rumpled in thought. ‘It seems I may have also imbibed an generous amount of narcotics.’

He laughed again, his voice high-pitched and verging on giggly. ‘I think I can hear the grass growing.’

Octavian came out of the house. ‘All ready to go after the comarré,’ he announced, then paused when he saw Ivan. He frowned apologetically at Tatiana. ‘I didn’t realize … ’

Ivan staggered toward Octavian, who folded in on himself like a child awaiting punishment. ‘What’s this? Tatiana’s lapdog is now one of the family?’

Tatiana braced for the rebuke. ‘Yes. I needed more help than Octavian could give me in human form. I thought it best—’

Ivan clapped Octavian on the back. ‘Splendid! Welcome to the fold, old man.’ He collapsed in a fit of soundless laughter.

Octavian caught Tatiana’s gaze and lifted an eyebrow. She shrugged in response. She’d never seen Ivan like this, but then she wasn’t aware that he’d had anything but comarré blood in his system for ages. Human blood carried consequences. If the host had indulged in alcohol or drugs of any kind, the vampire who drank from them would feel the effects as well. Obviously.

Ivan straightened to wipe the tears from his eyes. Then a curious look crossed his face. ‘Say, did you mention you were going after the comarré?’

Tatiana angled a look at Octavian, but what was done was done. ‘Yes, Lord Ivan. The Nothos located her. We were just on our way to retrieve her and bring her back to—’

Ivan clapped his hands, then nearly skipped to the car Tatiana stood beside. ‘Marvelous! Let’s go. I’m starving.’

She exhaled a ragged breath. ‘I thought you were full? We can’t drain the comarré until she gives us the necessary information.’

‘Of course, wouldn’t dream of it. Just a taste, then.’ He half fell, half slid into the car.

Out of his sight, she rolled her eyes at Octavian. This was not how she’d planned to do this. At least intoxicated Ivan was easier to handle than lord-of-all-he-surveyed Ivan. She gestured to Octavian. ‘Let’s go.’

‘But … ’ He nodded at the car, clearly indicating their unexpected passenger.

She shrugged and shook her head. She had a feeling that even in this state, Ivan could turn vicious if provoked. Telling him he couldn’t come meant risking him taking his anger out on Octavian. There was no choice but to let Ivan accompany them. ‘I can handle him.’

Octavian sighed in acceptance, but the tightness around his mouth betrayed his nerves.

An hour later, he pulled the car onto the shoulder in the shadow between two streetlights outside the comarré’s estate. She’d persuaded Ivan to stay in the car until they came back with the comarré. Octavian turned off the engine and got out. She joined him, both of them keeping close to the wall.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

Tatiana nodded and closed her eyes, picturing the one person she was sure could get the comarré to come out of the house. Her former husband. Power swept through her and she opened her eyes. Judging by Octavian’s face, the transformation was successful. ‘Let’s go.’ Her voice came out in Malkolm’s low growl.

Octavian swallowed. Was Malkolm that intimidating?

The soft whir of mechanics lilted through the night air. The estate’s gate opened. She and Octavian flattened against the wall. A car pulled out and as it turned through the streetlamp’s pool of light, she caught the face of the man whose body she currently wore. The comarré sat next to him. She caught sight of a third person, but she didn’t recognize him.

‘Bloody hell. Back in the car. Follow them.’

Octavian kept up without being too close. If they knew they were being followed, they either didn’t care or were leading her somewhere on purpose.

Ivan fell asleep, a sure sign his system was not handling the kine drugs very well. Vampires never voluntarily slept at night.

Twenty minutes into the trip and she knew exactly where they were headed. Octavian glanced into the rearview mirror, making eye contact. ‘Seven.’

‘Indeed.’ She cursed under her breath. With the shifter girl dead, she no longer had a cover to go in under. ‘Park close to them. We’ll wait in the car.’

He canted his head toward Ivan’s slumped form. ‘He’s a lot of help.’

She flared her nostrils in disgust. ‘Isn’t he, though?’ Too bad she couldn’t just open the door and shove him out. Maybe she’d get lucky and he’d sleep where he fell until the sun came up and flamed him to ash. Wouldn’t that be nice—