Home > Flesh and Blood (House of Comarré #2)(72)

Flesh and Blood (House of Comarré #2)(72)
Author: Kristen Painter

‘You forget your place.’ His hand seized her throat and tightened, crushing her larynx. ‘Speak to me that way again and I will cut off your other hand.’

Octavian’s eyes bulged. Nasir had the bloody gall to look pleased.

‘Yes, my lord.’ She dropped her gaze, realizing too late that Nasir had been Ivan’s puppet from the beginning, meant to keep tabs on her. How had she not seen that sooner? That weasel would get his. ‘Forgive me. I am as upset at my failure as you are.’

He released her, brushing his palms against each other as though he’d dirtied himself. ‘What plan do you have to remedy this?’

To kill every last one that opposed her. ‘I have a scrap of the anathema’s clothing. I will give it to the Nothos and release them. Malkolm will either lead them to the girl, or his capture will draw the girl to us. Either way, success is at hand.’

Lord Ivan nodded, stroked his chin. ‘Very good. Carry on.’ He snapped his fingers at Octavian. ‘Put my bags in the best room, then give my driver directions into town.’

With scowling eyes, Octavian clicked his heels together and headed upstairs. She hated Lord Ivan’s treatment of her pet. Octavian was hers to command.

Lord Ivan turned back to Tatiana. ‘I shall be taking your car and going into the city. They say Americans are the other white meat.’ He laughed wickedly. ‘I intend to find out. I’ll expect progress when I return.’

‘Yes, my lord.’ There would be progress, but not the kind he’d expected. Pompous old fool. She happily watched him leave, then gave Nasir the sweetest smile she could manage. No point in tipping him off. ‘I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you terribly.’

His dark brows lifted. ‘You did?’

‘Of course.’ She swatted him playfully on the arm. ‘Let me go deal with the Nothos, then I’ll meet you upstairs and show you just how much.’

His face went positively electric. ‘I’ll be waiting.’

‘Preferably on the bed and undressed?’

He laughed. ‘That’s my girl.’ He kissed her and dashed up the stairs, passing Octavian on the way down. Anger contorted her manservant’s face. Sweet Hades, she adored that kine far more than was prudent.

She put a finger to her lips and shook her head, indicating he shouldn’t say anything out of line. ‘Show me where the Nothos are.’

He led her to the guesthouse, where the gruesome beasts were already destroying what their brothers hadn’t. A few of them paused to train their yellow eyes on Octavian.

‘Food?’ the closest one asked, coming closer to the kine. Octavian ducked behind her.

‘No,’ she snarled. Malformed idiots. ‘Pay attention.’ She pulled the scrap of fabric from Malkolm’s jacket out of her pocket and held it aloft. ‘Trace this scent to the vampire it belongs to, then follow him until his path crosses that of the comarré your useless brothers couldn’t track down. Bring her back to me alive. Understood? Not half dead. Not partially devoured. Alive.’

Heads nodded in unison. One sneezed, spraying mucus across his brothers. Bloody hell, they were repulsive creatures. ‘If you cannot capture the girl without fighting, then don’t. I need you alive as well. Come back and get me and I’ll take her alive. Any breach of my instructions and I will personally hunt you down and disembowel you.’ Filthy beasts.

She tossed the fabric into their gathered midst. They descended upon it like the ravening beasts they were. ‘Octavian, open the door and get behind it.’

He nodded, his gaze never leaving the Nothos. As soon as he was protected, she shouted, ‘Go!’ and pointed out the door.

The Nothos streamed into the night, whining and chuffing, their clawed hands and feet tearing up the flooring and leaving gouges in the cobblestone drive. The last one melted into the dark like a wisp of smoke.

‘It’s safe now.’

Octavian came out from behind the door. ‘I cannot abide those creatures.’

‘No one can. But they serve a purpose.’ She looked around. Lamps lay shattered, sofas upended, curtains shredded. They were creatures of destruction, true to their twisted roots.

He sniffed. ‘I will do what I can to straighten things, my lady.’

‘Don’t bother.’ She stared at him, studying the man she saw before her. The time was right. Perhaps overdue. ‘I have a much more important task for you.’

‘My lady?’

She held out her hand to him. ‘I need you to die.’

Creek stayed away from Chrysabelle’s for almost two and a half days, just to be sure Argent wasn’t hovering nearby. No matter what power this ring had, no matter if she chose to give it up or keep it, Creek wanted her safe.

Sunset was still a few hours away, guaranteeing he’d have time alone with her.

Chrysabelle had put his name on her visitor list, something the gate guard confirmed with a quick ID check. At her estate’s private entrance, the security cam scanned his face, then the gate opened and let him through. He parked opposite her front door.

As he walked up, the door opened. Chrysabelle wasn’t as alone as he’d thought she was. Behind Velimai, an enormous, ebony-skinned man stood in the doorway. Sweat covered his shaved head and his eyes flashed gold. Feline varcolai. This was new. The man stepped in front of the wysper. ‘I got this.’

The fae nodded and left.

Creek studied the varcolai. ‘Chrysabelle here?’

   
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