‘There are enough hours of night left to visit your aunt. You need something more appropriate to wear though. Maybe Doc has something.’
This time, she had words and a little bit of fear. ‘Why do you want to see my aunt?’
‘She was comarré, wasn’t she? She may know something that might help you.’ He paused, and his mouth bent. ‘That might help us.’
Those two small letters, that one tiny pronoun, changed everything. It redefined her relationship with the vampire. It made them a unit. A team. A couple. Sweet heaven, she did not like the sound of that, but she imagined she’d get used to it. She’d gotten used to much harder things in her life.
‘And then … we … do what?’ Despite her misgivings, she was thrilled to have his help. To be an us. A we. However she looked at it, it meant she was no longer alone in this fight.
‘Then we go to Corvinestri.’
‘Corvinestri?’
‘That’s where you’re from isn’t it? The seat of the House of Tepes?’
‘Yes.’
The bend of his mouth increased. Obviously, that was one city he didn’t relish visiting. ‘We go to return this ring and see about proving your innocence.’
‘You’re anathema. You won’t be able to get past the city wards.’
‘I can take you as far as the wards then.’ He pointed a finger at her. ‘And when this is over, blood rights or not, we go our separate ways, understood?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, but he was already gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Insistent knocking woke Maris. Where was Velimai? Maris glanced at the bedside clock. Not quite 3 a.m. Not that she was really sleeping anyway. Not with Rennata’s vague warning note and Dominic’s disappointing report swirling around in her brain. How Chrysabelle could place her trust in that vampire was beyond her. The creature was anathema. More knocking. She chided herself as she sat up and swung her legs around. So was Dominic, and look how long she’d stayed with him.
She picked up the journal she’d been writing in before bed and tucked it into her nightstand drawer. There was much Chrysabelle needed to know about Maris’s past, but now was not the time. Not yet.
Velimai floated in and solidified. She held the handles of the iBot to keep it steady, a completely unnecessary gesture for several reasons, one being the iBot was as stable as a rock.
‘Who’s at the door?’ Maris lifted herself onto the seat.
Velimai moved back into Maris’s field of vision and shimmered into a ghostly replica of Chrysabelle. It was like Chrysabelle was an old-fashioned movie and Velimai was the screen, still visible behind the image.
‘Why haven’t you let her in? Why hasn’t she let herself in?’
Velimai tapped two V’ed fingers against her chest, the sign for vampire, then her image changed again into the visage of a male vampire.
Maris wanted to spit. ‘She’s brought him here? No wonder she hasn’t come inside. She knows better than to bring a vampire into my home.’ No vampire, friend or foe, had ever been given an invitation to cross her threshold. If she hadn’t made an exception for the one vampire she’d been sleeping with, she wasn’t about to make an exception for the one Chrysabelle had deemed her new protector.
Maris wheeled out of the room and down the hall. ‘If she thinks I’m letting him in, she’s mistaken. I don’t care if he is helping her.’
Velimai, gliding ahead and back in her own skin, shook her head furiously. She opened her mouth, her lips peeling back in a wide snarl.
‘No, you can’t kill him. As much as I dislike the idea of Chrysabelle aligning herself with this creature, it’s her decision.’
Velimai crossed her arms as the iBot maneuvered down the stairs.
‘Go back to bed, Velimai. I can handle this.’ She prayed silently that her niece had not done something so foolish as turn over her blood rights. Maris would know soon enough. If this vampire had drunk from Chrysabelle, Maris would smell it on him. A cold thought shuddered through her. What a stupid old woman she’d become. No doubt Chrysabelle had recognized the blood scent surrounding Dominic as her aunt’s. And now she was here for an explanation. Who could blame her?
Velimai bowed slightly and left with a not so subtle roll of her eyes. Stubborn wysper. Still, the girl was worth her keep for her ability to decimate vampires and keep secrets. In her own way, Velimai was the perfect companion. Quiet, deadly to vampires, and a worthy gin opponent.
The knocking sounded again as Maris reached the door. She opened it, wondering if she shouldn’t have come brandishing her sacre. That would give the anathema something to think about.
‘Chrysabelle, I know you must have questions after … after.’ Something about her niece looked off. The breeze shifted, bringing the faint bitterness of ash with it. ‘Are you feeling all right, my dear?’
‘Yes, Aunt. I feel very well, thank you.’ Chrysabelle’s stony face suddenly burst into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, unlike the vampire behind her who’d been grinning like a madman since Maris had opened the door. So this was the anathema her niece had aligned herself with. Maris immediately disliked him and hoped her face reflected that.
‘Good. I was worried something was wrong since the hour is so late.’ Maris studied Chrysabelle, but she stood just out of the light. Odd. Chrysabelle had never seemed so short before. Or so thin. Something was going on. Perhaps Chrysabelle didn’t want to say in front of the vampire. Perhaps she couldn’t get away from the vampire. Again, Maris yearned for her sacre. ‘This one with you, he’s the one helping you?’