“So you eliminated him per orders.”

“No.”

Annika put her feet on the floor. “Creek, he’s a threat. And you had orders.” She tapped her fingers on the chair’s arm. “Perhaps I have allowed our relationship to become… too familiar.”

He bowed his head in deference. “I made a judgment call, and if I was wrong, I apologize, but after my conversation with him I don’t believe him to be any more of a threat than you or I.”

She shook her head. “How does this prove Mal’s innocence?”

“I’m getting there.” Creek sipped his water. “This Paole works for Dominic and Dominic has been sending Mal regular shipments of blood.”

“Sated doesn’t mean innocent. Some vampires can’t resist the hunt and with Mal’s past and whatever’s going on between him and the comarré…” She shrugged. “It could still be him.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward. “No, it couldn’t. The blood he’s been getting is drugged. He’s been knocked out cold every night there’s been a murder.”

Annika frowned. “Why would Dominic be sending him tainted blood?”

This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do. Share Chrysabelle’s business with the KM. It was that kind of garbage that got her so upset. He got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a protein bar out of his lean pantry. “Because of what’s going on between Mal and the comarré. He’s lost the ability to love her temporarily and it’s made him… angry. To keep him from striking out, she’s gotten Dominic to keep Mal sedated until she can heal him.”

Annika stared at him long enough to make him uncomfortable. She now knew he’d kept information back from her. What she’d do with his subordination remained to be seen. “This is why you didn’t kill the Paole.”

He nodded.

“And this situation with Mal, when will that be resolved?”

He knew Chrysabelle was working on it, but what did that mean in real time? “I don’t know, but soon.”

“Creek, Malkolm is the most dangerous vampire in this city. You know his past. He was a terror. He’s responsible for more human deaths than any other vampire we have record of. If he’s gone back to that?” She stood and tugged her leathers into place, an air of reluctance around her unlike anything he’d seen before. “The comarré has forty-eight hours to return things to the status quo. If Mal still needs to be sedated by then… there is nothing I can do.” Her mouth thinned to a hard line. “You will be ordered to eliminate him. No judgment calls allowed.”

Loudreux’s refusal to see her came as no surprise to Chrysabelle. She slammed the car door as she got back in. “I told you.”

Augustine lounged in the passenger’s seat beside her. “Still worth a shot.”

Jerem started the car. Fi twisted around from the front seat to face Augustine. “That means you’ll help us, right?”

His chin jutted forward and he turned to look out the window. “You’ve got to understand, I’m not exactly high on the Best Liked Fae in the City list already. A move like this would really put me in a tough spot.”

Jerem grunted softly from behind the wheel. Chrysabelle understood. She was frustrated too. And despite what Mortalis had said, she was about to try something she probably shouldn’t. Nothing left to lose, anyway. “That’s pretty much how your brother said you’d react. He said you were lazy. What was that he called you?” She tipped her head like she was trying to remember. “Bala’stro?”

Augustine sat up straight, anger creasing his brow. “You tell Mortalis that he can shove one of his horns right up his—”

Fi snorted. “You don’t like your brother very much, do you? What’s up with that?”

Augustine’s green-gray eyes darkened like a storm cloud. “He’s been the source of a lot of misery in my life.”

“Like what?” Fi asked.

Jerem laughed. Fi sure didn’t give up easy.

Augustine took a deep breath and sat back like he was trying to calm himself. Then he arched like a cat in the sun and a languid smile spread across his face as he answered her. “Anyone ever tell you you remind them of a young Olivia Goodwin? She was a real looker back in the day.” He shook his head and made a “mmm-mmm” sound. “They say there wasn’t a mortal man alive who could refuse her charms.”

Fi’s mouth opened a little. “No, I, uh, no one’s ever, I mean, no.”

He continued. “ ’Course Livie had an unfair advantage with those couple percentage points of fae blood running in her veins.” He lifted his chin at Fi, his lids suddenly too heavy to keep wide open. “You got any fae in you, pretty thing?”

She shook her head slowly, her gaze never leaving him.

His smile crooked up a little higher on one side. “You want some?”

“That’s a married woman you’re talking to,” Chrysabelle told him. “And her husband’s the leader of the Paradise City pride, so unless you want two hundred and some pounds of leopard hunting you through the streets of New Orleans, you should probably save your flirting for a woman who’s actually available.”

Fi swallowed. “Yeah.” She twisted around to face the windshield, but the color in her cheeks was undeniable.

Augustine shrugged, clearly unrepentant. “No harm in talking.”