Kristen Painter - Out for Blood

Luciano threw his hands up. “ Zio, per favore . Why would you tell him that?”

Dominic waved Luciano’s concerns away. “Malkolm is anathema. Like us. You worry for nothing.” He stood and walked out from behind his desk and laid his hand on Mal’s. “This man sacrificed his blood for mine. That is a debt I have not yet repaid. He will say nothing, will you, Malkolm?”

“No.” He kept his eyes on Luciano, who didn’t look quite convinced yet. “So long as you’re not here for me.”

Luciano frowned. “Why would I be here for you? I’m here because my uncle needs me. And because I grew tired of life as the nobility’s errand boy.”

Errand boy? How about killer? Like you. The caedo were an elite force of vampire assassins. They did the dirty work other nobles didn’t want to soil their hands with but were willing to empty their accounts to pay for. “Dominic said you were anathema like us. What did you do?”

Luciano’s eyes sparked silver. “I quit.”

No one quit the caedo . Except by death. That explained Luciano’s reluctance to have his profession revealed.

Dominic gestured toward a chair. “Sit, my friend. Let us share some wine to celebrate Luciano’s arrival.”

“Wine isn’t what I need.” Nor did he need to carry the weight of any more of Dominic’s family secrets.

“Ah, I see. There is something else I can help you with?”

“I need blood. From one of your comarrés.” Damnation, it pained him to say those words.

Dominic went back behind his desk and sat. “I would be happy to do this for you, except…” He stared at Mal expectantly, and when Mal didn’t say anything, he finished, “What about Chrysabelle?”

And there it was. The question he’d known would be asked. Mal sat, buying a little time to form an answer. “She’s still recovering. I don’t want to bother her.”

Dominic lifted his brows. “That hasn’t stopped you—or her—from the exchange in the past.” He shrugged and lifted his hands. “I don’t want to do something that might upset her. You know she’s like family to me.” He leaned toward Luciano. “She’s Maris’s daughter, the comarré I spoke of earlier.”

“Marissa? Si .” Luciano nodded.

What Mal knew was that Dominic wasn’t going to let it drop until he got a better answer. “I need to put some distance between us. Her wishes.”

“Ah.” Dominic absently tapped his fingers on the desk. “She is just like her mother, that one.” His hand went still. “Any time you need blood, you have only to come to me. As I’m sure you would extend yourself to me, should I need anything.”

So a favor for a favor. Fine. He should have known Dominic wouldn’t give without getting something in exchange. Mal had no desire to return to pig’s blood. “Haven’t I proven that in the past?”

“You have.” Dominic pressed the intercom on his desk. “Send one of the best comarré up.”

“Yes, sir,” a female voice answered.

Mal shifted. He hadn’t wanted to do this with an audience, but neither did he want to be alone with a human with an open vein. Chrysabelle could fight him off. One of Dominic’s comarrés could not.

“Do you wish privacy?” Dominic asked.

“No.” He forced himself to relax.

“Please.” Dominic held his hand toward a secluded corner of his office that held a chair, low table, and love seat. “I don’t care to be watched while I dine either.”

Without further argument, Mal got up and went to the seating area. A few minutes later, someone knocked.

“Come,” Dominic called.

The door opened. “You sent for me, master?”

Son of a priest. Of all the comarré Dominic had, Alice was the one who got sent up?

“Yes,” Dominic answered. He pulled a knife from a desk drawer and held it out to her. “Take this, get a glass from the bar, then fill it for my guest there.” He gestured toward Mal. She didn’t look, but Luciano watched with interest.

With a hesitant movement, she accepted the dagger. “May I ask why, master?”

Bloody hell. Mal growled softly, causing her to turn. “Because I can’t drink from the vein.”

“You,” she whispered. A flash of anger passed over her face, quickly disappearing into a mask of obedience. “As you wish.”

“Do you know each other?” Dominic asked.

“No,” Alice said.

“Yes.” Mal crossed his ankle over the opposite knee and leaned back. “I tried to use my powers of persuasion on her in the club. She didn’t care for it.”

Dominic laughed. “I’m sure she explained that my comarré are warded against that. Trying to get a replacement for Chrysabelle?”

“Something like that.” Mal held eye contact with Alice, challenging her to say otherwise. Tired of the games, he pointed to the chair next to him. “Sit.”

She did as he asked, setting the glass on the low table. “Now what?”

“Nick your vein and hold it over the glass.” How simple was she?

“Why not just bite me? It’s so much simpler.”

“I told you I can’t drink from the vein.” Can and should.

Indignation rolled off her in waves. “Do you think I’m not worthy?”

Every muscle in his body tensed. He reminded himself he’d thought this a good idea. “I do not drink from the vein.”

“Alice,” Dominic barked. “Do as he asks without question. Do not make me speak to Katsumi about your training.”

“Yes, master.” Disgust in her eyes, she held out her arm and pricked her wrist with the dagger. She yelped, biting her lip. Red beaded up, perfuming the office with the coppery scent of faded roses. Human blood. She turned her wrist over and the glass began to fill.

Mal waited until the blood was an inch from the top. No point in not getting as much as he could if he had to endure this torture to get it. “Enough.”

“Like I could give you any more,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her wrist and lifting her chin as if she’d just provided him with the finest vintage wine France had to offer.

He took the glass and chugged it without ceremony. The blood held none of Chrysabelle’s sweetness or power. There was no sharp burst of pleasurable pain as his body came to life, no beating heart, no need to draw breath. Just the sensation of being full and the numbing of the voices, something human blood had always done. He set the glass down and stood. Time to go home. Check on the comar and see about the vampiress being held captive in the freighter’s hold. “Dominic, my thanks.” He tipped his head at Luciano.

“Whenever you need it,” he reminded Mal. Luciano lifted his hand in farewell.

Alice stared up at him intently, obviously waiting for him to thank her as well. “Feel better?”

“Not much.” He hadn’t stopped thinking about Chrysabelle once. “I’ve had real comarré blood. This isn’t it.”

Prick me again and I’ll have your fingers cut off,” Tatiana snarled.

The modiste jerked the pin away from the gown’s bodice. “I’m so sorry, my lady. I will be more careful.”

“Yes, you will be.” Nothing irritated Tatiana more than inactivity. Standing on this platform before these mirrors, being fitted for a gown to wear to the Dominus ball, was not the best use of her time. Not when she could be in New Florida hunting down that comarré whore and finally taking possession of the ring of sorrows. With that power, Tatiana would be utterly unstoppable, and protecting Lilith would be as easy as breathing. If Tatiana still breathed.

Octavian strolled in. His eyes silvered as he took her in. “You look glorious.” He stopped by Lilith’s crib, leaning down to coo soft words and tickle her belly. Pride swelled in Tatiana at how good he was with her. She’d been so right to turn him from the kine head of her household staff to her vampire paramour. “Sweet child,” he whispered. He kissed her tiny fist, then came to Tatiana’s side and kissed her cheek. “Hello, my love.”