Home > Last Blood (House of Comarré #5)(91)

Last Blood (House of Comarré #5)(91)
Author: Kristen Painter

“Wait…” Mal studied the portal. The blood touched the sides of the circle and a flash of gold gleamed across the surface. “There. It’s open.”

Her lids fluttered and her mouth opened. “Do you smell that? Like watermelon and fresh-cut grass and flowers.”

“And sunlight,” he added. The perfume flowing through the portal dug into his brain and picked out his few remaining memories of summer, a smell so rich and so rare it almost buckled his knees.

Beside him, Tatiana wept a single tear. She swiped at it. “I haven’t smelled that since… I don’t know when.”

He turned away, ignoring the wrenching longing that had come alive in his chest. Chrysabelle is already there, waiting for you, he told himself. “Call Lilith. The sooner this is over, the better.”

She opened her mouth.

“Wait.” A thought struck him. “How do you know it’s going to be night when we go through? It doesn’t smell like night to me.”

“It’s okay,” she answered. “The ancient one reassured me that the Garden becomes whatever you need it to be. I assume when we step through, it will change to night if it’s not already.”

“I hope you’re right.” Because if she was, the shift would alert Chrysabelle that they’d arrived and she’d be able to take cover until the right time. “Go ahead, call the little monster.”

“Mal.” Tatiana glared a warning at him, then put on a mask of happiness. “Lilith, my darling, come to me. We’re ready for our trip.”

Without hesitation, a sliver of shadow invaded the room and turned into Lilith. “I’m here.” Her eyes were round with excitement and Mal wondered how the Castus hadn’t realized that feeding their blood to a child would end up creating such a mad, twisted being. In a way, he felt sorry for Lilith. Her true family, her childhood, and her slim chance at some kind of normal life had been ripped away from her. He knew what that loss felt like from a father’s point of view, but did she? Did she remember anything of her life before she’d become a pawn in this horrific game?

Perhaps death would be a welcome end for her. “Thank you for obeying so quickly,” he told her. “Tatiana, why don’t you go first, then Lilith, then I’ll follow.”

“No,” Lilith barked. “I’m going first. It’s my present.”

Tatiana stepped back in surrender. “You go first, then.”

Mal pointed at the portal. He couldn’t have been more over this whole thing if he tried. At least Lilith going first was a great way to test if the sun was still up. “There. Go.”

With a flounce, Lilith tossed her head and stepped into the circle. She disappeared. Tatiana looked at him. “Maybe we could just erase the portal and be done with her that way?”

Mal raised one brow. “She can travel in and out of the ancients’ realm without effort. What would keep her from leaving the Garden that way?” Again, he pointed to the portal. “Hurry up, before she kills something on the other side.”

Sighing, Tatiana followed after her. As soon as she disappeared, he stepped through.

And found them waiting for him in the middle of a desert. At night.

“There’s nothing here,” Lilith grumped. She stuck her hands on her hips as she turned to look at him. “What kind of—” Her mouth rounded into a circle. “Look!” She pointed and he and Tatiana turned.

A set of gates to rival any he’d ever seen rose up from the sand and vanished into the evening sky. Walls made of trees joined the sides and rounded out of sight. The air in front of the ornately filigreed gates shimmered like a heat mirage and a soldier appeared. Not a soldier exactly. He’d never seen a soldier with wings.

The creature came toward them. Lilith hissed. The creature opened his mouth and roared at her, blowing them all back a few steps. Then he pointed a wicked, flaming sword at her. It spun on its hilt, the flames flowing out like hungry tongues. “Demon spawn,” he said. “Do not urge me to battle.”

Mal yanked Lilith behind him. “Quiet, you.” He bent his head slightly, trying to show respect. “We only wish entrance to the Garden. Will you let us in?”

The creature stared at Mal, losing some of the animosity he’d directed at Lilith. “Your blood decides that, not me.” Behind him the gates began to open. He gestured to Tatiana and Lilith with the sword. “You may pass. You will not be permitted to remove anything from the Garden and you bear the consequences of anything you eat.”

Tatiana grabbed Lilith’s hand and dragged her forward. Mal hesitated. The creature hadn’t indicated he could go through.

The soldier watched Tatiana and Lilith slip through the gates, then turned to Mal and lowered his sword. “You are not the first to enter these gates.” His voice was soft. “Do you understand?”

Mal nodded, happiness replacing the frustration in his belly. “The comarré,” he whispered.

The creature gave a single, short nod and held his hand out toward the gates.

Mal raced forward, catching up with Lilith and Tatiana, hopefully before they realized he’d lagged behind.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Tatiana turned in a slow circle, a look of wonderment shining on her face.

“Glorious.” But Mal’s attention was on Lilith, who’d already strayed from the mossy path underfoot and was reaching for something in a tree. “Lilith,” he called. She ignored him. “Lilith.” She didn’t even glance in his direction. He strode over to where she was.

   
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