B. Donna - Blood Pool

He stroked his beard. “I don’t want to be an overbearing father.”

She tried to stifle the laugh that erupted, but failed miserably. “You needn’t worry about that, Tobias.”

“Would you like a fire?” He didn’t wait for a response as he grabbed a few logs from the ring next to the fireplace. In an instant, he had a fire blazing.

He walked over to her. “ Dulciuri inimă, your finger is still bleeding. When did you last have anything decent to feast upon?”

Speaking in the manner of a medieval king, he peppered his speech with the language of his native Romania, where he grew up so many hundreds of years ago. He’d always called her “sweetheart” when she was a little girl and continued to do so even though she was a grown woman.

“You sound like Nigella’s mother now. She’s always trying to feed me,” Raven said, walking to the sink and rinsing her finger. The next thing she knew, Tobias was standing next to her, holding her hand up to his mouth. He kissed his daughter’s cut.

“Nigella’s mother feeds you blood?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No, Nigella does, on occasion.” She looked down at her finger. It had healed. “And no, I don’t feed on my friend, if that’s your next question.”

He returned to his seat. “I know. I have been to a few ceremonies in the past, or have you forgotten? I remember the ritual and the blood. You have good friends. It was a wise decision to move here. That would make two good decisions I’ve made in my life, finding and marrying your mother being the first.”

She played along with her father. “Only two? You’ve lived a long, long time.” She went to the oven and checked on the roast, simmering in a red-wine glaze, and the garlic-herb potatoes. “Having children isn’t on your list of wise choices?”

“Of course, it goes without saying.”

“No, it needs to be said.”

He smiled at Raven, melting her heart with every loving gesture. “All right, an amendment to my previous statement. Three wise choices.”

“Speaking of time, don’t you think you should give up wearing all black? I think you’ve mourned enough.”

Tobias’s eyes flashed with a pain that Raven found all too familiar. Her heart broke a little more for him. She changed the subject.

“Black is always in fashion,” he said. Raven knew he tried to make light of her remark.

“You’ll stay for dinner?” she asked. “I know you don’t eat much, but it would be nice. Bo would like to see you.” She turned to him, feeling like a little girl again, wanting to make him happy.

“Of course, I’d love it,” he agreed.

Raven noted his eyes as they drank in the view outside, at the vast expanse of water that stretched for miles, visible from almost every window of the spacious Victorian house. Waves crashed upon the rocky shore as the sun snuggled into the Atlantic for the night. Blues, magentas, violets and burnished copper-colored clouds grazed the horizon, like ghostly pirate ships searching for lost treasure.

Raven knew it was more than the festival that had brought Tobias to the island. Her lips parted to ask, when she heard the front door open.

“ Kagi Taka ,” Bo called out.

“I see he still talks to you in his native language,” her father observed, standing to greet Bo.

“Yes, just like you,” she said, walking toward the front door, her arms open, ready to embrace her beloved.

Bo lifted Raven gently in his arms and whirled her around, kissing her neck, nipping at her tenderly.

“I missed you. My father’s here,” she whispered into his ear. His gaze probed hers, questioning. Raven shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

Bo hung his suede jacket on the deer antler rack, a gift from his grandfather for Raven, by the entrance. He took a deep breath and accompanied her into the kitchen.

“Tobias. Nice to see you.”

“Bo, you look good. Taking care of my Raven, are you?” Tobias shook Bo’s hand.

“Always,” he replied.

In truth, Bo and Tobias did get along well. He could see into Bo’s soul and he knew the depth of feeling Bo had for his daughter. Tobias also understood the call of the wild. Although he sensed it bothered his daughter, he knew it was not a reflection on Bo’s love for her. Raven argued that they were merely sticking up for each other-an odd sort of male bonding.

“I guess you’ve talked to Frank?” Bo asked, not wasting a moment.

“Yes. He told me about Sang de Mort ,” Tobias huffed.

“ Sang de Mort ? Are we talking about the same…?” Raven asked.

“He goes by many names, but yes, Courtier de Sang -Laroque. I know he’s resurfaced,” Tobias said, watching as Bo took a beer from the refrigerator. “Frank told me that he explained to you what happened all those years ago. I’m sorry, Raven.” The ache in his heart still felt new. “Your mother didn’t want you to know. You were too little to remember your sister. After she died, I couldn’t break the promise I’d made to her.”

Tobias observed the interplay between his daughter and Bo. “Apparently, neither could Frank,” Raven said, glancing at Bo standing by the sink as he watched the last rays of the sun reach across the water. His long, lean legs were crossed, and he tapped his boot impatiently. Nothing escaped Tobias as he monitored his daughter’s actions. He laughed to himself, noting how she studied every muscle visible beneath Bo’s faded denim jeans.

Every single muscle.

Tobias felt like an intruder.

Bo took a long pull on his cold beer. “I’m surprised you’re not at the office. There’s another DB. I just finished the paperwork on it. That’s why I’m a bit late.”

“ Davis is on tonight. He owes me. Tracy is in, too. They’ll call if they need me. Was it suspicious circs?” Raven handed Bo three plates. He set the table and checked on the fire in the dining room fireplace.

“It didn’t look like it to me-yet-but we’ll see what Davis finds. The victim was a fairly young guy, mid-forties, and apparently there’s no outward trauma. Could be cardiac arrest.”

Tobias had been standing in front of Raven, uncharacteristically quiet. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t want you getting involved with Laroque, Raven. He wants nothing more than to kill all those I love.” His voice was firm and unyielding. “Promise me.”

“I can’t make that promise. This is my job. If Laroque is somehow involved with these deaths, I have no choice.”

He clenched his jaw, frustrated with his daughter’s stubbornness. A trait she inherited from him. “Then quit. You don’t need the money. I won’t lose you. You are susceptible. You’re powerful, but your mother’s blood makes you vulnerable.” He took her hand and rubbed her finger on the spot she’d cut. Raven pulled away.

“I’ll be careful,” she said, taking the roast out of the oven. “Come on, dinner’s ready.”

Bo remained silent during the interplay between father and daughter, a slight smile pulling at his lips. Tobias didn’t inform Raven that Bo had been the one to persuade Frank to get in touch with Tobias and invite him to the festival.

They sat before the roaring fire and dug into the tender roast. “I questioned just about all the Lamai on the island. Emerald’s sister Iris helped with the interrogation,” Bo said as he placed a water pitcher filled with sliced lemons and limes on the table.

“Why did you need a Fae’s help?” Tobias asked, his curiosity piqued.

“She’s a Truth Seeker. You know, a Fae version of a lie detector,” Bo explained. “She might be able to figure out who turned Derrick.”

Tobias asked, “The one who attacked Solaris?”

“You didn’t waste any time finding out the latest, did you?” Raven asked her father.