Flesh and Blood

‘You betcha. Two a them damn bloodsuckers. He didn’t seem that het up to have their company, neither.’

‘How long ago did they leave, and do you have a boat we can rent?’

‘About ten minutes ago, I guess.’ He paused. ‘We?’

Creek turned and motioned with his hand at Mal and Chrysabelle. ‘I have some friends with me. They’re friends of Doc’s, too.’

‘Go first,’ Mal said to Chrysabelle. Chances were good no red-blooded man would shoot a beautiful woman until he at least found out her name. Mal waited until she was a few lengths ahead until he followed.

Slim Jim whistled long and low. ‘Ain’t that something.’ He stepped forward and adjusted his cap. ‘Never seen the likes a you.’ He started to extend his hand, then snatched it back when Mal stepped out of the shadows. ‘Now, you, I know all about your kind.’ His Bushmaster fell into his hands again.

The voices began to chant for the man to shoot.

Chrysabelle put her hands out and stepped squarely in front of the rifle. If Mal had breath to hold, he would have. Instead he stepped out of the way. She would not be his shield. Suddenly she smiled at Slim Jim like Mal had never seen before. Her entire face seemed lit from within, and her signum sparkled and shimmered like a coating of diamond dust. He’d never believed the comarré had magic until now.

‘Hello.’ Her voice was a soft, breathy purr. She reached one delicate hand toward Slim Jim. ‘I’m Chrysabelle.’

Slim Jim’s mouth hung open. Mal felt a little slack jawed himself. Slim Jim let go of the rifle and took her hand. ‘James Chiles. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss.’

She held his hand and came closer, her smile never wavering. ‘Mr. Chiles, our friend is in horrible danger.’ She closed her other hand around his, capturing his old weathered paw between her palms. A twinge of jealousy rose up in Mal that she would embrace the old man that way, but he knew she was doing it for Doc and for that, the jealousy gave way to pride. ‘I would consider it a great personal favor if you could help us.’

Five minutes later, they were in an airboat and headed after Doc.

Chapter Thirty-two

Tatiana watched the boat carrying Malkolm and the comarré shrink into the distance. Something buzzed near her ear. She swatted at it. From the small side road where they’d pulled off, the kine’s cabin was visible. Another of the boats with the big fans on the back sat parked along his dock. They’d stuck the car behind some sort of three-sided shed. Octavian had called it a hunting blind.

He came jogging back down the path that led from the kine’s cabin. ‘There aren’t any more boats.’ He stopped beside her. ‘The kine who rents them out is smarter than he looks. His cabin is circled in salt, silver, and iron filings. He’s obviously done business with othernaturals before.’

She didn’t care one iota about the kine and what he knew or didn’t know. She needed a boat to go after the comarré. ‘I can see a boat from here.’

‘The motor’s missing out of it.’

She pounded her fist on the car hood. ‘Bloody hell,’ she snarled.

The car rocked. A bleary-eyed Ivan opened the door and nearly fell out. ‘Where are we?’

‘Everglades,’ Octavian answered.

‘And we’re wasting time,’ Tatiana said. She clenched her fists, wishing she had something more to pummel.

‘We’ll have to go back to the comarré’s house and wait for her to return.’ Octavian shrugged.

‘No,’ she hissed. ‘We’re going after them. I am tired of waiting. Tired of being so close I could reach out and grab her gaudy little neck and yet, she still escapes me.’

‘How will we follow them with no boat?’

She loathed leaving Octavian behind, but he might not be able to follow. ‘We’ll scatter and go after them that way.’

Ivan perked up from where he’d slumped against the car. ‘Who are we following again?’

She sighed. Babysitting a Dominus was ridiculous. ‘The comarré, Lord Ivan.’

He climbed to his feet and stretched. ‘It smells like sewage out here. I’d be happy to scatter if it means not smelling this swamp anymore.’

Tatiana didn’t bother explaining that they’d be heading deeper into it.

Octavian frowned. ‘I guess I’ll stay with the car.’

She went to his side. ‘You should try to scatter. You come from a line of vampires who hold the power in great abundance. I scattered the very day Lord Ivan resired me.’

Octavian sniffed. ‘But you’d been a vampire for years already.’

‘Makes no difference. Try.’

Octavian shook his head. ‘I don’t know how.’

Tatiana turned to her inebriated sire. ‘Lord Ivan, would you scatter and show your grandchild how easy it is?’

Lord Ivan puffed up like a bloated pigeon. ‘Quite.’ He took a few paces away from the car, stopped, and stood very still. A moment later his body dissolved into a swarming mass of black flies. They held his shape for a second, then buzzed into a low, undulating cloud hovering near the car.

‘See?’ Tatiana asked. ‘Easy. Just imagine you can and you will.’ She hoped. Not all vampires could, and lineage was no assurance. Just like she’d never been able to duplicate Malkolm’s talent. None had. She’d always thought it was some kind of abomination due to him killing his sire.