‘I told you, I don’t know anything about a ring.’
‘Liar.’ Tatiana backhanded her. Nehebkau hissed and flared his hood at the sudden movement. She smoothed her fingers down his creamy throat. ‘It’s all right, my darling. Hush now.’
The old comarré spit out a mouthful of blood and tipped her head back to stare at the sanctuary’s fiber optic night sky. ‘The stars are beautiful but they can’t compete with the sun. Don’t you miss the sun shining down on you? The bright light of day? That warmth?’ Her voice was irritatingly pleasant. Fool.
Tatiana leaned close and grabbed the kine’s chin, tipping her face until they were only inches away from each other. Nehebkau’s tongue flicked in and out, tasting the air. Could he sense the blood feast hidden beneath the old woman’s skin? Tatiana dropped her hand from the comarré’s chin and bared her fangs in a hiss of her own. The comarré merely squinted and turned her head. Killing this one could not come soon enough.
Anger at the kine’s cavalier attitude ate into Tatiana’s good mood. ‘I am going to drink you slowly, old woman. So slowly you can feel the life seeping out of you, slipping away down my throat.’
Her finger traced a gold vine from the woman’s temple to her cheek, stopping beneath her eye. ‘The way each swallow stabs at your heart, dragging your pulse down, weakening you until … nothing.’
She pressed her fingernail into the woman’s skin until red spilled forth. Flicking the bead up with her nail, she brought her finger to her mouth and licked it clean. ‘Already you taste like death to me.’
The kind of death that would infuse her with more power. The comarré might be old, but her blood hadn’t suffered from time spent without a patron. The potent heat of life still throbbed within her. Oh yes, power dwelt in this woman’s veins. Power that would soon be Tatiana’s. A giddy shiver tickled her skin. Power was everything. Power was life.
The sanctuary door opened and Mikkel stepped halfway into the room. He tipped his head to one side, requesting her presence outside. She nodded, then turned back to the old woman. ‘I won’t be gone long.’ She smiled and unhooked Nehebkau from around her neck, easing her darling to the floor. ‘But I’ll leave you a little company. I wouldn’t make any sudden movements if I were you.’
A shadow of fear flickered in the comarré’s eyes as the serpent reared back and stared her down with its bright red gaze. How dare that old whore fear Nehebkau but not his master?
Tatiana suppressed her growing rage as she walked away to join Mikkel in the hall. Securing the door behind her, she raised her brows. ‘What is it?’
‘I have good news, my sweet.’ He smiled, hands going to her hips and pulling her close. ‘Mmm … you smell like fresh blood. You know what that does to me.’
She almost dug her nails into his arms to push him away, then stopped. Mikkel often saw pain as an aphrodisiac. Instead, she gathered every last remaining ounce of patience. ‘Later, my love. What’s the good news?’
He nuzzled her neck, undeterred. ‘I’ve got a new team of Nothos scouring the city.’ His fangs scraped her skin. ‘If the girl is here, we will have her very soon.’ He bounced a finger off the tip of Tatiana’s nose. He was lucky to keep it. ‘And then I will present her to you to do with what you will.’
At last, Tatiana’s smile came willingly to her lips. ‘You do know how to please me.’ Maybe she would take him to bed after all. ‘But I hope it doesn’t take long. Waiting to kill this one grows harder and harder. Especially when the threat of death doesn’t seem to faze her. It’s like she wants to die.’
‘Then why wait? If the old comarré wants to sacrifice herself for her niece, I say let her.’ His hands crawled up beneath her shirt.
Tatiana froze. That was it. And this whelp had inadvertently figured it out. The sacrifice had to be a comarré. Pure untainted blood. And why use the comar she’d paid good money for when she had another one? One that no one would miss.
She threw her head back and laughed, dislodging Mikkel’s palpating hand. ‘Of course!’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ She kissed him hard, then grabbed his hand and led him toward her chambers. He deserved a reward for his efforts, and what was better than being allowed to pleasure her?
Maris stilled her hands as Tatiana’s laugh echoed through the door. A minute passed, then another, but the vampiress didn’t return. Maris resumed struggling with her bound wrists. She no longer cared if she spilled her own blood in the effort or not. Nothing mattered now, except warning Chrysabelle.
Whatever this ring was that Tatiana so desperately sought, it couldn’t be used for anything good. Maris had no idea if Chrysabelle had it or not, but she’d searched Chrysabelle’s things after the girl had arrived to be sure there was no kind of tracking device planted among them. There’d been no ring. Chrysabelle could have had it on her person, but Maris had seen no evidence of it.
Did the vampire helping Chrysabelle know about it? Chances were good that if he did, his ‘help’ would be more for himself than for her niece.
Her heart ached at what had transpired since Algernon’s death. Chrysabelle, forgive me. This was not how things were supposed to have gone, but Maris would atone. If it took her dying breath, she would make things right at last.
The rope scoured her wrists, but she dismissed the pain. It was no worse than her swollen eye or what she feared was a cracked cheekbone. Her libertas battle had almost killed her, but she’d survived it. Now she would fight for Chrysabelle’s libertas.