She filed the nugget of info away. ‘You don’t scare me, shadeux. You don’t instill trust in me either. I’m going with you.’
Mal grabbed her arm. ‘No, you’re not. That’s exactly what these vampires want is to draw you out. You’ll stay here until Mortalis gets back. Based on what he finds, we’ll reassess.’
Dominic kept quiet, but Mortalis laughed softly. ‘Well done, vampire. You may learn to control her yet.’
She opened her mouth, but Mal spun her around to face him before she could respond to the fae. She glared at Mal. ‘My aunt needs me.’
‘She needs you alive.’ Something in his eyes and the tone of his voice softened her temper. But that was foolish, wasn’t it? That look in his eyes was nothing more than the need for sleep, exacerbated by the sun’s rise and too little rest over the past few days. One draught of her blood did not a whole vampire make. Nor, without question, had it created any sort of empathy in him for her.
She jerked her arm away. ‘Fine.’ She looked at Dominic. ‘I want a report the instant he gets back.’
Mortalis ignored her and spoke to Dominic. ‘I will return as soon as I can.’
As the shadeux left, Dominic came around from behind the desk. ‘You might as well sleep until he returns, Malkolm. There is nothing else you can do. Come. I have a room you may use. It’s safe. We’re several stories underground on this level.’
‘Fine.’ Mal held out his arm, indicating Chrysabelle should go ahead of him. So lack of sleep made him more human? Or was he putting on a show for Dominic?
They followed Dominic out of the office by the door through which Mortalis had entered, then down a long hall. Finally, Dominic stopped at a door near the middle of the corridor. He twisted a brass key in the lock, then opened the door. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as Mortalis has returned. Chrysabelle, I’ll have food brought up for you shortly.’
She crossed her arms. ‘I’m not staying in there with him.’
Already inside, Mal looked around the room but not back at her. ‘Yes, you are. It’s not safe for you in the club alone.’
Dominic nodded. ‘He’s right. It might not be safe for my guests either.’ He glanced at the red strap crossing her chest. ‘That’s Marissa’s sacre, is it not?’
‘Yes,’ Chrysabelle whispered. What memories swirled in that brain of his?
If his eyes seemed oddly liquid, it was only for a moment. ‘I will find her and I will punish those responsible for taking her. Marissa earned her freedom once. She will not do it alone again.’ He tipped his head toward the door. ‘In. Please, cara mia.’
‘I’m not Maris. Your pretty words mean nothing to me.’ She curled her lip at him as she reluctantly stepped over the threshold. ‘If he eats me, it’s on your head.’
Dominic pursed his lips. ‘My head? His skin, you mean.’ Dominic winked and shut the door firmly. A second later, a small snick followed.
Chrysabelle tried the knob. ‘He locked us in. That pompous old—’
‘What did you expect? You snuffed one of his patrons.’ Mal’s voice held a shade of humor.
She whirled. ‘Are you serious? You think he locked us in because of me? You’re the one they all want to fight. I was protecting you.’
‘Protecting me?’ The humor disappeared. ‘Bloody hell. You’re not just annoying, you’re also delusional.’ He threw his hands up and walked away to sit on the king-size four-poster bed. He bounced a few times, testing the mattress, then pushed back, swung his legs up, and lay down. He crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. ‘I’m not one of those vampires that sleeps like I’m dead.’
‘And I care how you sleep because?’
He opened one eye. ‘Because I tend to wake up in attack mode.’
‘Whatever.’ She shivered, clasping her wrists to feel the blades secured there. ‘Just so you don’t wake up hungry.’
Both eyes stayed shut. ‘I always wake up hungry.’
Chapter Twenty-four
A flicker of sensation darted through the blackness cradling Tatiana. She shifted, and it was gone.
Another flicker. Stronger. Pounding. A voice. ‘Mistress.’
She struggled to shed the coma of daysleep, but it clamped down on her like a drug. She waded through the thick morass masquerading as her brain and found enough energy to mumble, ‘What?’
Then the stench of brimstone hit her.
The Nothos.
‘Shall I return later?’
‘No.’ With new determination, she fought through the fog and pulled herself upright. The wall clock showed she’d been down barely two hours. Not enough, but it would have to do. Grabbing the headboard, she lurched to her feet. Mikkel remained motionless, as deep in daysleep as a corpse in death. She stumbled toward the door until she leaned against it, fighting the urge to close her eyes.
‘What is it?’ Bloodlust cramped her muscles. The kine last night had done little to assuage the heightened thirst that had accompanied her new power. She should have brought her comar along, but the fewer who knew of this trip, the better.
‘Mistress, I have the remnant.’
‘Is the plane secure?’ She snatched her robe and hastily tied it on. Not the best attire for what was sure to be another bloody interrogation, but this shouldn’t take long.
‘Yes.’
Tatiana retrieved a set of earplugs and fitted them in before easing the door open. The Nothos stood in the center of the cabin, slightly bent to keep its head from touching the ceiling. The dim lighting made a cartoon of its grotesque form. The remnant dangled from its fist, her six-fingered hands secured at the wrists with iron shackles to bind her powers. Suddenly, Tatiana felt very awake. She pulled the earplugs free.