Home > Out for Blood (House of Comarré #4)(82)

Out for Blood (House of Comarré #4)(82)
Author: Kristen Painter

Fi didn’t look convinced. “What if Heaven changes her mind about letting me claim mercy?”

Doc stared into her eyes a long, hard second, trying to see past the scared college student and find the ghost girl who’d lived with Mal’s demons long enough to know how to handle herself. “I’ll kill her before that happens.” And in his heart, he knew that’s exactly what would happen before he let harm come to Fi.

Barasa stepped forward. “Omur and I won’t let you do that.”

Doc snorted. “I thought you were here to help.”

Omur nodded. “We are. What Barasa meant is that we’d do it for you. That way you can remain pride leader.”

Without a word, Doc clasped the other varcolai’s hand. “To victory, then.”

“To victory,” they both responded.

Or death, Doc thought. If a woman had to die in this arena tonight, he prayed to Bast it wasn’t Fi.

Lola hung the phone up and pinched the bridge of her nose, but the hospital administrator’s voice still rang in her ears. He’d called to complain about losing ten of his night-shift nurses and demanded she lift the curfew.

As angry as his words had left her, she wondered if maybe it wasn’t time to do exactly that. She’d have to lift the curfew anyway if she ever managed to become a vampire herself. She drummed her nails on the desk. Why couldn’t Dominic have been more cooperative? Surely by now his pocket must be hurting.

She checked the time on her desk clock. An hour until sunset. Her finger tapped the intercom. “Have the car brought around, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Since John had quit, Valerie had cooled toward her. Still doing her job with efficiency, but without the warmth and friendship that had once been there. Yet another casualty of protecting the city.

Lola shook her head as she buttoned up her desk, grabbed her briefcase, and headed out. “Good night, Valerie.”

Her administrative assistant nodded without looking up from the filing she was doing. “Good night, Madam Mayor.”

Lola sighed. “I know you’re upset over the curfew and I’m sure your affection for John has—”

“I would prefer not to discuss my private life.” Valerie shut the filing cabinet firmly. “And yes, like most of the people in this city, I don’t care for the curfew, but my opinion isn’t going to change it, so I see little point in discussing that either. Is there anything else you need today?”

“No.” Lola walked to the elevator without further comment, her mind made up. In the course of the hour, she went home, changed into more appropriate evening attire, and had her driver take her to Dominic’s nightclub, Seven.

As she suspected, there was no crowd outside the velvet ropes, just two bored doormen. She exited the car and strode forward, refusing to allow herself to be fearful. She was the mayor. Her security team knew where she was. No one would harm her. At least they wouldn’t get away with it if they did.

The closer she came to the front door, the more familiar one of the doormen looked. “John?”

He lifted his chin slightly. “Madam Mayor.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She supposed he had to work, but to take a job that blatantly flaunted the curfew cut her.

“I was thinking the same thing about you.” He tipped his head to look around her. “You should have security with you.”

“Do I have something to fear?”

“You must. Otherwise there’d be no need for that curfew.”

Touché. “I’m here to discuss that very thing with Dominic.”

He unclipped the velvet rope separating them. “I’ll lead.”

She gave him a little insincere half-smile. “How very kind of you.”

He didn’t answer, just walked toward the doors, so she sailed after him with a confidence she didn’t feel. Inside she was greeted with a second set of red doors painted with gleaming gold dragons. John pushed one open, holding it behind him as he went. A wave of music hit her like a blast of hot air. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. She’d never been in a club so dark, but then better-than-human night vision was part of being an othernatural, wasn’t it? That would be a nice perk.

She shuffled her feet as she eased forward, trying not to run into John. As her inadequate vision adapted to the low light, she realized the club was essentially deserted. Servers milled aimlessly about while go-go dancers leaned against their cages or dangled from their swings. She squinted, trying to find John.

Instead, her gaze hung up on the blond-haired, gold-tattooed men and women sitting around chatting with each other. Her heart clenched. Those were the comarré. Just like her daughter had been. Had any of them known Julia? Maybe she’d talk to a few of them, see if—

“Humans aren’t allowed in here. Not without an othernatural.” A server with gray skin and six fingers blocked her path. “You here with someone?”

“With me.” John stepped between them and took her arm. “Stay close.” He started off again, pulling her along.

“I was trying to. It’s a little dark in here for human eyes.”

He slowed but said nothing. They walked for quite a ways, diverting from the main floor to head through a series of impossibly descending concrete halls lit by phosphorescent paint. After a maze of turns, they stopped outside a door. John knocked. A voice called, “Si, come in.”

   
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