“I can’t believe this.” Doc stared at his coffee without really seeing it. “They’ve been so loyal.” He shook his head. This wasn’t the news he’d wanted to hear. “That probably doesn’t help, does it?”

Vernadetto shifted uncomfortably. “You shouldn’t say anything more. You’ll be called to testify and I don’t want to know more than I need to.”

Doc nodded, swamped with heat. The two he’d trusted most. Losing either of them would hurt, but what if they’d been in it together? He couldn’t believe it. What would Remo’s father do when he found out his daughter had been murdered? The weight of it all pressed down on his shoulders, nearly bending him forward. Somehow, he held on and kept the witch fire at bay. “So that’s it then.”

Pushing his full cup gently away, Vernadetto stood. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Without another word, Doc got up and walked away, leaving Fi and Vernadetto to say their good-byes. He didn’t stop until he got to the master bath, and then he shut the door behind himself and stepped into the massive marble shower.

Even with all Barasa had taught him about controlling the fire within him, there was only so much Doc could do, only so long he could keep a lid on what burned inside him. Not with the stress that seemed to grow at every turn.

At last alone, he erupted into flames.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Creek leaned against the door of Octavian’s sports car as the vampire approached. His eyes silvered almost immediately, a pretty good indicator he wasn’t happy to see Creek. “Something happening?”

Creek pushed off the car. “Just checking in to see how things are going with the mayor.”

“I report to Annika. She knows how things are going.”

He reached for the car door, but Creek blocked his path. “Can’t a fellow KM be interested in how another operative is doing?”

“I’m doing fine. Your concern is noted, but unnecessary.”

Creek stayed put. “I heard you and Lola hit Seven the other night. How was that? You two have a good time? Bond over a couple of cold ones?” He laughed. “I guess for vampires that would be a couple of warm ones.”

Octavian stared at him. “What do you want?”

“Just a little conversation. One operative getting to know another.” Creek dropped his grin. “What did you do there? Dance? Gamble? Taste some of that comarré blood? Maybe knock some heads together? Put a stake in someone’s heart?”

“I’ve had enough of this.” Octavian reached for the door handle again. This time when Creek stepped into his path, Octavian shoved him out of the way.

Creek grabbed Octavian’s arms and threw him to the ground, then shoved his elbow down onto Octavian’s throat, crushing bones. Octavian growled, but he stayed down. Creek calculated the time it would take to reach his weapons. “Did you kill Katsumi?”

“Get off me,” Octavian wheezed.

Creek leaned in with more pressure. “Yes-or-no question.”

“Screw you.” Octavian stared daggers at Creek. “This is what the KM gets for hiring convicts. I outrank you, tribe. I can have Una’s scholarship pulled. Think about that.”

“So you read my file.” With his free hand, Creek whipped his crossbow out from underneath the car, where he’d stashed it loaded and ready earlier. He pressed the tip to Octavian’s chest. “Did you also read about how lies make my finger twitch?”

A little of the bravado drained from Octavian’s face. “You wouldn’t kill me. Annika would have your head.”

“Annika sent me.” He took his elbow off Octavian’s throat and stood, tapping his fingernail against the crossbow’s titanium frame, making a pinging sound. “Plus, I really enjoy killing vampires. The way they go poof into a cloud of ash? I can’t get enough of that.”

Octavian swallowed. “Yes, I killed her. It was necessary to the mission. She threatened to expose my cover.”

Creek let the crossbow drop an inch. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Octavian jumped up and brushed the dirt off his suit, his anger returning fast. “If you think Annika isn’t going to hear about this, you’re dead wrong, you son of—”

Creek lifted his crossbow, pulled the trigger, and sank the bolt into Octavian’s shoulder.

Octavian staggered back. “What the hell?” His knees buckled as the laudanum took effect.

“Lies and threats make my finger twitch. I always forget to mention that.” Creek retracted the bow and tucked it away. “And don’t worry, Annika’s definitely going to hear about this.” He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and hit STOP on the recording app, then held the phone up for Octavian to see. “Got it all right here. Now you just go to sleep and I’ll be sure to keep you in a nice safe place until she decides what to do with you.”

Octavian slumped against the side of the car, mumbling something.

Creek started the recorder again. “What was that?”

“I’m going to kill you…”

“Great, got it, thanks.” Creek stuck the phone back in his pocket. “I’ll make sure to tell her that, too.”

“I’m going with you.” Radiating brotherly protection, Damian leaned against the door frame of Chrysabelle’s room.

“I appreciate that you want to, but you can’t. Rennata will strip your signum off just like she did mine. I’m not letting that happen.” She packed a small bag with a change of clothes. “This is really something Mal and I need to take care of once and for all. Besides, who will take care of the house and Amylia? I need you here.”