Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) Painter, Kristen (historical books to read txt) 📖

as crisp and unyielding as his charcoal suit, even in the humidity. Behind him were two vehicles, a sleek black limousine and a rather dodgy delivery truck. He bowed as she approached. ‘My lady.’

‘I assume you’ve taken care of things?’

He looked extraordinarily pleased. ‘I have, my lady. I have located what I believe to be the center of much othernatural activity. A nightclub of all things.’

‘We shall see, won’t we?’ She gestured toward the nondescript delivery truck. ‘And this?’

‘For transporting your Nothos.’

‘Very good. The pilot and copilot will be bunking here.’ She would be ready for anything this time.

‘Whatever pleases you.’ He swept his hand toward the sleek limousine. ‘And this is for you, of course. The house I have arranged has several interior rooms and one side that is sufficiently shaded by large trees, as well as other features you may find useful.’

‘A house?’

He smiled. ‘A grand estate, one befitting a noble of your status and rank, I assure you. There is even a guesthouse where the Nothos may be kept.’

She pursed her mouth. ‘How much did that cost me?’

His smile grew. ‘Nothing, my lady. I simply displaced the kine occupants.’

She almost laughed. That Octavian referred to his fellow humans as kine was significant proof of his desire to leave them behind and join the vampire world. ‘Displaced?’

‘I secured them in the estate’s wine cellar.’ He lifted one shoulder nonchalantly but failed to hide his pleasure at what he’d done. ‘I thought perhaps you might require some sustenance after your trip. The wine selection seems to be above adequate as well.’

Now, this was the kind of brain power she needed around her. She lifted a finger toward Nasir. ‘Be a dear and get the bags, would you?’

Nasir grunted. ‘Shouldn’t he be doing that?’

She didn’t turn but simply layered the power of persuasion into her voice. ‘Nasir.’

He tromped back into the plane like a good little boy.

She flashed forward until she was inches from Octavian. He didn’t flinch at her rapid advance. Didn’t stutter a breath or miss a heartbeat. Clearly, he wanted what she had to offer so badly he’d already begun to imagine himself a peer. She stared at him, really seeing him for the first time. Brown hair, brown eyes, but not unattractive for a kine. Ever respectful, he dropped his gaze as her inspection continued. Fit. Young enough to still have hope.

At last he began to tremble ever so slightly. ‘Have I displeased you, mistress?’

‘No, Octavian. You’ve done well.’ If she’d praised him before, she didn’t recall it, but the time to cultivate a higher sense of loyalty in him had come. They were on dangerous ground in this wretched place. She needed every soldier she had.

He flushed and his pulse quickened. Desire wafted off him, smoky and sweet. Her fangs descended, and she made no effort to hide them. Unlike her other servants, Octavian would undoubtedly enjoy seeing them. She smiled. ‘Look at me.’

‘Yes, my—’ He lifted his head and his mouth fell open. He closed it to swallow. ‘What else might I assist you with?’

She leaned in, inhaling the perfume of his blood. ‘You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes, my lady, anything.’ His gaze darted to the ground for just a moment, then returned to her face before he finally turned away again. ‘Anything.’

She slipped a knuckle beneath his chin and brought his face up. The heat of his skin melted into hers and awoke a craving she’d never before felt for a mortal. The urge to kill him and put an end to such unwelcome desire coursed through her, instantly at war with the knowledge that he could do more good for her alive. She broke the contact. He looked genuinely bereft. ‘I may call upon that willingness very soon.’

‘Yes, mistress.’ He barely got the words out before a shiver of unbridled pleasure rolled through him.

Power sparked electric in her veins. She wanted to laugh with the giddiness bubbling up inside her. It was going to be so much easier this time. Nasir came down with the bags as she pointed to the car. ‘To the estate. We have work to do.’

Darkness weighed on Mal like six feet of packed earth. He woke with a start, clawing at the empty blackness above him and half crazed with memories of his time in the ruins. But that wasn’t where he was. He rested on a comfortable bed. No mold or must or damp corroded the air.

He sat up and blinked, his eyes picking out shapes and objects in the dark. He was in a large, well-furnished suite. Where, he wasn’t quite sure.

Then it came back to him. The drugged blood. The scent of Chrysabelle pouring out of Ronan. The indicators that she’d been there in the Pits.

He wanted to rail against the barge-load of refuse his life had become, but there was too much to figure out and not enough time to do it.

A table near the bed held an LED lamp. He clicked it on, illuminating the space.

He went very still. He knew this room. Had spent time here. He inhaled, figuring he deserved the torture. The honey-sweet fragrance of Chrysabelle’s blood still lingered in the suite, but then, it had been the last place he’d willingly drunk the blood she’d drained for him. And the last place he’d kissed her.

Chin dropping toward his chest, he shook his head at his own foolishness. How had things gotten to this point? Because he was a stubborn fool.

Now, Chrysabelle could be anywhere. Hurt. Suffering. Or worse. Crimson edged his vision. If Ronan had harmed her in any way, Mal would kill him. If he hadn’t already.

Fists outstretched, Mal tipped back his head and roared out the anger scraping his insides raw. Katsumi, Ronan, maybe even Dominic for condoning what went on in his club – they all deserved his wrath.

Rapping sounded from the door.

‘What?’ Mal shouted.

The door opened and Mortalis walked through. Before he could shut it, Katsumi barged past.

‘Oh, you’re all