“Ai yi yi, you’re the one who told me to put the curfew in place to begin with! If anyone’s a hypocrite, it’s you.”
“I was under the spell of an evil woman. She used me to persuade you. I didn’t do it willingly. Now I’m here to tell you to lift it once and for all.”
She tapped her chest with her finger. “I will, but only because being sired has given me the power to run this town properly.”
He shook his head and backed out of the bathroom, past the comar and away from her. “You think the human citizens of Paradise City are going to stand for this? As of today, I’m making it my number-one job to watch every move you make.”
“Go ahead and watch. You’ll see the citizens understand my sacrifice.” She scowled at him. “Cross me and I’ll put you back behind bars where you belong.”
“No,” Creek answered. “You won’t. The KM are bigger than you. We’re here to protect humans from monsters like you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Your threats are as powerless as you are. Becoming a vampire hasn’t made you stronger; it’s made you more vulnerable.”
She hissed at him again as he helped Hilda to her feet. “Get out of my house.”
“Gladly.” He started to go, then turned. “I’ll make you one more promise. As long as there is breath in my body, you will never get your hands on that child.” With that, he stormed out. Hilda ran after him.
Lola planted her hands on her hips. It wasn’t worth her energy to respond. She knew how wrong he was and had no doubts that he did, too. Her stomach growled. Luciano had told her she’d wake up ravenous. She held her hand out to her comar. Everything else could wait until she’d fed. “Hector, if you please, I’m starving.”
“She’s coming toward us.” Chrysabelle’s throat narrowed a little more with every step Tatiana took. Her hands dipped into her pockets, easing through the slits to grasp the hilts of her daggers. Just the feel of them in her palms gave her comfort.
Mal kept his eyes on his ex-wife. “I can handle this.”
Her fingers twitched. “Really? Because all I can think about is sinking one of these blades into her chest.”
He turned and frowned at Chrysabelle. “Go. Take this opportunity to talk to Damian and get him into position.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it a second later. At least one of them was keeping their wits about them. How it became Mal, she wasn’t sure, but he was right. This might be the only chance she had to let Damian know their plans. She nodded and slipped away in the opposite direction of Tatiana’s approach.
As she skirted the ballroom and the groups of nobles, she absorbed every snippet of overheard conversation. To a person, they spoke of the child, Lilith, and what it would mean for the future of the vampire nation. Few seemed happy that Tatiana had been chosen as Lilith’s guardian, but no one seemed willing to say it to Tatiana’s face.
Chrysabelle sincerely wished this started a great many rifts that would grow and fracture the families, weakening them until they were as powerless as they had been so many centuries ago. In those days, the squabbling and infighting had made organization nearly impossible and the comarré had been able to manipulate things from behind the scenes with tremendous ease.
Now the comarré were relegated to their surface abilities, unable to do much more than serve and provide blood, a situation that would only worsen if the nobility’s sense of entitlement grew. A suffocating wave of defeat swept her. She choked it back. She couldn’t leave Damian here. It would be the death of him. Maybe the death of her. To know her brother was trapped in this life of service and forced politeness, valued for nothing more than what flowed in his veins. No, she would not allow that to happen. Not when their mother had enabled Chrysabelle to escape.
She circled around, headed toward the dais now. The arrangement of plants and animal cages made it easy to slip behind the platform. Not surprisingly, she wasn’t the only comarré who’d figured it out. A few others had found the hidden spot and sought refuge from their patrons there. They nodded at her in greeting, exchanging the knowing glances that said it all: How much longer before this foolishness was over?
She made her way to the back of Damian’s chair and cleared her throat. He didn’t move, just sat looking at the crowd, his large form slouched in the chair like a sack of sand. “Damian,” she whispered.
He glanced over, then went back to staring at the crowd.
“Damian, I need to speak with you.”
Without looking this time, he spoke. “There are no comarré positions available in the Dominus’s household.”
She scrunched her face up. Was that what he thought she was after? She tugged his sleeve and kept her voice low. “If things go well, there will be after tonight.”
He twisted around to face her. “What are you talking about?”
“Might we talk privately?” It wasn’t uncommon for comarré to bear innocuous messages from their patron to that of another comarré. She hoped that was all it appeared she was doing.
With a beleaguered sigh, he dropped down onto the floor beside her. “What is this about?”
“Privately,” she reiterated.
“Fine. Follow me.” He took off at a shamble.
She followed, wishing he could find the fire to move faster. Was this really her brother? The man who’d helped Creek kill Aliza? The man who’d had the guts to run from Tatiana in the first place? Somehow she’d expected more.