Blood Rights

Page 62

Mal looked at Doc. Doc shook his head. ‘No way. I’m not asking that man for any favors. I’m not getting in his debt again. Ever.’

‘Whose debt?’ Chrysabelle’s head came up, interest replacing all other emotion in her eyes.

‘No one,’ Doc answered.

‘Dominic’s,’ Mal said.

‘Don’t.’ Doc’s hands flexed against the car roof. Fi moved in closer, putting a hand on his side.

Mal ignored Doc. Overhearing Chrysabelle’s willingness to kill him had put him in a foul mood. Fouler than usual anyway.

Chrysabelle rolled her cherry lips in, then out on an exhale. ‘The way I see it, Dominic owes my aunt. I’ll ask him. I don’t know why you think Doc should do it anyway.’

‘Because Doc used to work for him.’

Chrysabelle’s brows shot up.

Doc cursed softly and smacked the roof. ‘That’s history. Let it be, vampire.’

‘Yeah.’ Fi nodded, coming down on Doc’s side. What a shock. Apparently, it no longer mattered that if not for being part of Mal’s curse, she’d be six feet down instead of cuddling up to the shifter. Females. He shrugged. ‘History or not, doesn’t change what happened.’

‘Does it matter?’ Chrysabelle tapped her watchless wrist. ‘Time’s wasting. Unless you’ve decided to give tanning another chance.’

Mal hooked a thumb in his belt. He hadn’t packed enough weaponry if they were headed to Dominic’s. ‘We might need Doc’s help to get to him.’

Doc growled. ‘I’ll take you to the club, but then you’re on your own.’

‘Thank you. I’m sure Dominic will be willing to see me,’ Chrysabelle said, smiling at Doc before glaring at Mal. Like he cared what she thought.

Doc guided Fi around him and into the sedan’s front seat. She slid over, then he got in and slammed the door.

Chrysabelle took a few steps, reaching for the handle to the back door.

‘Not so fast.’ Mal lifted his chin toward her newly acquired weapon. ‘That goes in the trunk.’

Her fingers toyed with the strap, an insolent smile curving her mouth. ‘Big bad vampire scared of a little old ceremonial sword?’

The next instant he was in front of her, his hand latched to the back of her neck to keep her eyes on his. Heat from the blade pricked his skin. ‘I am afraid of nothing. Not you. Not your hot blade. Not even leaving you with no option.’

Her breath shuddered in her throat, and her pulse jumped a tick. ‘I’m not afraid of you anymore either.’

‘No?’ Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by a flash of heat lightning that lit her eyes like two icy-blue flames.

‘No.’

His thumb shifted until the tip nestled over the tender flesh below her ear. He stroked the spot, enjoying the erratic vibration beneath her skin. ‘Then that must be lust causing your heart to beat so fast.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Yes, that’s it.’ Sarcasm dripped off her voice. ‘My desire for you is so strong I can barely contain myself. Every comarré dreams of the day she’ll have an anathema of her very own. One who can’t stand her. One whose demons want her dead.’ She fluttered her lids and shook herself with a fake shiver. ‘I’m such a lucky, lucky girl.’

He tightened his grip. ‘You lie.’

‘Not this time, vampire.’ She grabbed his wrist and tried to move his hand but failed. ‘You should be able to feel that much.’

‘What I feel is your temperature rising.’ And desire mixed with revulsion. The same mix of emotion he’d felt from her before. Did she love to hate him or hate to love him? Maybe he should push the issue and find out.

‘Because you’re making me mad,’ she spat.

‘You felt nothing when we kissed?’

‘Nothing. Does that disappoint you?’

He released her and forced a laugh. ‘On the contrary. It relieves me.’

‘The sword stays with me.’ She grabbed the car door and yanked it open. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go save my aunt.’ She slid into the dark interior, leaving him alone as the first drops of rain pummeled down.

Tatiana stood in the hangar door. Storm clouds rolled over the horizon, diluting the coming dawn. Behind her, Mikkel exited the plane.

‘She’s secured?’ She flexed her hand against the slight remaining soreness. Interrogation was hard work. Washing the blood from her hands instead of licking them clean had been easy enough, but the blood splattered on the plane’s interior had tested her control. The perfume of comarré blood would linger for days, tainting her dreams as she slept in the plane’s light-secured bedroom.

‘Very. I tied her up and locked her in the bathroom.’ He winked, a puerile gesture she could have done without. ‘Not even Houdini could escape those knots.’

‘Good. Did you get anything more from her?’ she asked, already knowing the answer. If she couldn’t get the old bat to spill more than the name of some remnant errand girl, what chance did he have?

He shook his head and looked acceptably displeased. ‘Nothing. She’s going to be a hard one to crack.’

‘I’ll make her talk eventually. I’m just too hungry to concentrate with all that blood. I’d hate to slip and drain her before she gets a chance to tell me everything she knows.’ She laughed and Mikkel joined in, nodding.

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