Tatiana’s knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor. “No,” she whispered. “No, that can’t be.” Then the darkness swept in and mercifully took her with it.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chrysabelle kept her head down and her eyes closed and let Mortalis handle the situation. Despite the seriousness of their circumstances, she almost laughed thinking about how Mal really had become a dark cloud above her. She tugged the coat up a little higher to cover more of her face.

The knock on the window came a few seconds later. Then the whirr of the motor bringing the glass down.

“What’s the issue?” Mortalis asked.

“We need to inspect the vehicle.”

“What for?”

“Looking for someone. You and everyone inside, out. Now.”

“It’s just me and my master’s comarré. You can look behind me if you like, she’s the only one in the car. She’s passed out sick. Some kind of blood poisoning, they think. Anyway, I need to get her to the plane before she vomits again.”

“Put the back window down.”

More whirring and a little cool air kissed her ankles. She tensed, feeling eyes on her. Mal wouldn’t get sucked out the window, would he? She imagined not. He seemed to be able to control his smoke form well enough.

The guard yelled to someone, “She’s alone. What do you want to do?”

Chrysabelle moaned softly for effect. If the guards pulled her out of the car, they’d have no option but to fight and even with Mal and Mortalis, the odds weren’t good.

Mal’s coat muffled the guards’ distant conversation, so she couldn’t quite make out the words. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

Mortalis stayed quiet. It must not be safe for him to speak. She heard a soft tapping and opened her eyes a slit. He’d dropped one hand behind the seat and was rapping a finger on the leather upholstery.

“What?” she whispered.

He started signing. Guards trying to decide what to do. Not sure the outcome yet. He stopped signing but left his hand where it was. They’re coming back. He pulled his hand away and she closed her eyes again.

“Are we done?” he asked.

“We’re sending a guard with you. You won’t be able to return for your master without him. Unlock the back door.”

At the snick of the lock, Chrysabelle held back a groan, but the guard’s fate was sealed. Whoever got in the car with them was about to die.

The door was opened and she felt the movement across from her as the guard settled in. Fringe by the smell of him. The door slammed shut and a gruff voice said, “Move it, fae.”

The car rolled forward. Chrysabelle kept her eyes closed. Something—a finger, the muzzle of a gun—poked her in the leg. She didn’t move.

“So what’s this comarré got?”

“Blood poisoning. Had to get her out of the crowd before she infected any of the others.”

“Others? Other vampires? Is she contagious?” The gruffness turned to fear.

“Maybe. Don’t know.” Mortalis was clearly enjoying this.

“She better not be.”

“I’d stay as far to that other side of the car as you can,” Mortalis responded. “In case she throws up again.”

For effect, Chrysabelle made a little gagging sound.

The guard swore. “Hurry up and get to the hangars.”

“We’re through the gates. I guess there’s no reason I can’t go a little faster.” Mortalis stomped on the gas. The guard lurched into her legs and scrambled to get off her, pulling the coat off her in the process.

“What the hell? You’re the comarré they’re looking for!”

She opened her eyes to the barrel of a gun.

The guard kept it leveled at her but spoke to Mortalis. “Turn this car around right now.”

A curtain of smoke formed between her and the guard. Moments later, Mal reappeared. He shook his head. “This car isn’t going anywhere. And neither are you.” He grabbed the gun out of the shocked guard’s hands and tossed it into the front seat with Mortalis.

The guard tried to crawl after it, but Mal held on to him. “Chrysabelle, blade.”

She pulled a dagger from her skirts and shoved it through the guard’s chest.

His shocked expression disappeared in a cloud of ash. She sneezed. Mortalis buzzed the back windows down and the ash flew out into the night.

He glanced in the rearview, his mouth a firm line but an odd spark in his eyes. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

Mal slid back in the seat beside Chrysabelle, knocking the last of the ash from his hands. “We’re not home yet.”

Chrysabelle relaxed as they pulled through the hangar doors without further incident. Just as she’d hoped, the second plane was gone. Only Amery and the hostages remained in the building. He approached as they got out of the car.

“The laudanum’s still got the vamps knocked out. Dominic took the comarré with them. She wanted to go. Damian was pretty insistent about it.”

Chrysabelle shook a little ash off her skirt. “That’s fine. I was going to speak to her about returning with us before we left anyway.” What was one more comarré in Paradise City? Maybe this one would prove a decent ally. Chrysabelle tipped her head toward the vampires slumped against the far wall. “How long before they wake up?”

“A few more hours at least. They’ll probably be stuck in here until the sun goes down again.”