“Yes.”

She shook her head. “You will not marry her. Because if you do, I will kill her.”

Chapter Eight

Chrysabelle followed Fi down into the freighter’s hold, each of them carrying a rechargeable flashlight taken from the galley. The solars were still lit but growing weaker as the night wore on. The last thing either of them wanted was to have the light fail while they were confronting an aged, noble vampire. Fi could turn ghost and escape, but Chrysabelle and Damian, no matter what their training, were still human.

Chrysabelle squinted, testing her night vision. It was decent but starting to fail. She couldn’t speak for Damian, but he’d been without a patron for long enough now that her guess was they were both suffering from a lack of bite. Their heightened comarré senses were diminishing with each passing day.

Damian. Why had she said his name during her recovery? What had the Aurelian told her that made her unconscious mind focus on him? Could he really be her brother? She’d not seen him during the time he’d been quartered at her home. Did he remember her? Hopefully he’d know something that would help her solve this mystery.

Fi made circles with her flashlight beam. “You’ll have to throw your weight against the door. Hinges are for crap. I just ghost through unless I’m bringing him food.”

“You’ve been taking care of Damian?” She wasn’t sure why that surprised her. Fi was young and sometimes did things that showed her age, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t without feeling. “What’s he like?”

“He’s nice. Angry. Like you were when you first got here.”

“I wasn’t angry.”

Fi laughed. “And honey badgers are cuddly.” She smiled at Chrysabelle. “It’s okay, I get it. Change sucks. Who doesn’t know that better than me? He’s not so much angry at the world as he is angry that Saraphina betrayed him. I think he may have been a little sweet on her.”

“Betrayed him how?”

“Apparently running was his idea. He called her a lifer. Said she hadn’t wanted to leave, but he thought once she saw what life could be like, she’d be okay. She wasn’t. When Daciana and her husband came to the house, Saraphina helped them subdue Damian.”

Chrysabelle shook her head. “I know—knew—a lot of comarré like that. They can’t see past the life they’re living to the life they could have.” Her head whirled with thoughts. Where would she be now if she hadn’t run after Algernon’s murder? Pawned off to another patron? Sent back to the Primoris Domus for the breeding program?

“You still with me?”

She nodded. “Just thinking. Does Damian… look like me?”

“Sure, I guess, if you mean in a blond hair, blue eyes, gold tattoos kind of way. Otherwise”—Fi pursed her lips—“it’s hard to say. Damian’s tall and handsome and has nice—” Fi blushed and shrugged. “All you upscale comarrés look the same to me.”

“Technically, I’m only a comarré in looks now since my last trip to the Aurelian.”

Fi glanced at Chrysabelle’s clothes. “And your looks haven’t changed. You still wear your hair in that braid, still wear white all the time. There are other colors, you know.”

“I know.” She sighed. “What is it you said? Change sucks.” And as much as she was ready for it, she didn’t know where to begin. “Maybe I should cut my hair. Try to wear color. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Fi slowed and pointed with her flashlight beam. “We’re here.” She stopped and turned to Chrysabelle. “You want some ideas on changing? I’d be happy to help. You know I love clothes and you have the kind of money that makes shopping an orgasmic experience.” She grinned like she was already emptying Chrysabelle’s accounts. “Let’s run this Daciana down, see what she knows, then we’ll map out a plan to revitalize Paradise City’s retail economy.” Her eyes rounded with happiness. “Hey, maybe Damian will let me make him over, too! It would be fun to put him in some leather pants and—”

Chrysabelle laughed. “How about I get to talk to him first?”

“Got it.” Fi jerked her thumb at the door. “You want to shove that thing open? I’ll hold your flashlight.”

“Sure.” She handed the torch over, then planted her feet and popped her shoulder into the door. It flew open easily. The space beyond was pitch-black. “You left him without lights?”

“No way.” Fi stepped over the threshold and flipped both flashlight beams into the darkness. In front of them sat a big metal storage container, its doors blackened and twisted loose from their hinges. A lamp lay on its side near a cooler.

There was no vampire. And no comar.

“Holy mother, they’re gone.” A cold hand squeezed her heart. Why hadn’t she listened to Mal and come to talk to Damian when he’d suggested it?

Fi danced the lights through the space. “How the hell did she get out of there?”

“Did you search her before you locked her up?”

“I didn’t but I think…” Fi shook her head dejectedly. “No. None of us did. We were too much in a hurry to find Creek. If she’s done anything to Damian—”

Chrysabelle grabbed her flashlight back and helped Fi search the space. “If she’s done anything to him, we’ll kill her together. He might be my only chance to find my brother.”