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

‘What on earth are you—’

His mouth ended her sentence and started the voices howling. He slipped his hands around her forearms and pulled her against him, savoring the velvet warmth that seeped into his skin from hers. He told himself he was kissing her because he owed it to her, but that became a lie the moment his lips touched her carmine mouth. He kissed her because he wanted to.

Because he could.

The voices ratcheted down to a tolerable hum.

He deepened the kiss, careful to keep his fangs from nicking her. She was sweeter and more pliant than he remembered, or maybe her scent intoxicated him, making recollection impossible. Her temperature rose in time with her heartbeat, and she went boneless in his grasp.

She was pleasure in the flesh, heat and softness and every womanly delight he’d done without these past centuries. All he could wonder was why he hadn’t done this sooner, why he’d thought this a task worth avoiding. Never again would he—

She stiffened and his bliss-addled brain refused to react in time to keep her from jerking out of his clutches. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Her left fist cocked back.

‘I’m making up for—’ He ducked as she swung. ‘Drinking your blood. Your half of the deal, right? Power for power. I thought that would make us even.’

‘Even?’ She growled the word, swiping the back of her trembling bandaged hand over her mouth. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. She shook her head, clearly provoked, if the flush across her face and neck was any indication. ‘That only works right after you ingest the blood, when your heart is beating. That kiss was … pointless.’ She spun and stomped off toward the house.

Pointless? He thought not. If nothing else, it proved she was a woman who clearly did care if he continued to exist or not. With a smile that would probably earn him another left hook, he sauntered after his comarré. Maybe life wasn’t so bad after all.

Fool, fool, fool.

Chapter Eleven

‘Varcolai?’ Tatiana grimaced as she stepped over the creature’s hindquarters and circled around to see the face of the female Nasir had brought her. A shifter. Gah. They were such lowly beings, meant to be servants or watchdogs. Couldn’t he have found a fringe? At least they were still vampire. She sighed. The girl would have to do. Tatiana didn’t want to waste time sending Nasir back to the club Octavian had found. ‘How long before the silver wears off?’

Nasir had followed the girl from the club, then injected her with enough colloidal silver to shut her system down. The result was a return to her true animal state.

‘Another few minutes.’ Nasir crossed his arms and leaned against the room’s arched doorway. ‘She is a bartender in the club. That should give you fair access.’

Tatiana nudged the she-wolf with her boot. ‘I need her awake so she can shift. I can’t do this without seeing her human face.’

Through trial and error, she’d learned the limits of her powers of mimicry. She couldn’t create an original image, nor could she take on the likeness of anyone deceased. She’d found that out one painful, lonely night after Mikkel’s death. All she’d wanted was to see him one last time. Instead of his beautiful face looking back at her in the mirror, she’d seen … something she never wanted to see again.

Death.

The wolf whimpered, stretching her legs against the plastic zip ties binding her. Those wouldn’t hold if the creature regained consciousness.

‘Octavian, get ready with the restraints,’ Tatiana called, then nodded to Nasir. ‘Get them on her before she wakes up completely.’

‘Of course, my love.’ Nasir grabbed the wolf’s bound legs and dragged her across the cement floor to where Octavian stood waiting.

The mansion her head of staff had obtained was more than Tatiana had expected. It was shockingly suited to her needs. The kine owners, delicious as they had been while alive, had enjoyed a wide variety of kinks, evidenced by the windowless dungeon in the center of their house. A room they’d obviously used based on the equipment’s wear marks and the lingering fragrances of blood and other less-appealing fluids. She’d known mortals engaged in such things but never realized some took it to such an extent. How lucky for her.

The click and scrape of metal against concrete filled the room as Nasir fixed the largest shackle around the wolf’s throat. He tugged on the chain, testing where it was set into the wall. Octavian attached two more sets to the wolf’s legs. The creature’s thin joints barely filled the heavy metal fetters, but the one around the neck would hopefully be enough until the shifter was in human form. After that, Nasir had a drug that would prevent her from shifting again and escaping.

The creature’s lids opened, her startlingly blue eyes instantly fixed on Nasir. Her lip curled back and with a snarl, she leaped, grazing his calf before the chain snapped her to a halt.

Nasir spun, his fist raised in anger. Through the tear in his trousers, red oozed from the already mending gash. The bitter spice of vampire blood mixed with the already present scents of leather, sweat, and sex.

‘No, Nasir.’ Tatiana couldn’t have the girl bruised yet. She needed to see her human face as unadulterated as possible.

He relaxed and dropped his hand. ‘Filthy creature.’

‘Yes, I agree.’ Tatiana shot him a look of displeasure. ‘And yet you chose her for me to mimic.’

Realization flared across his face. ‘I never meant any disrespect. I only thought no one would suspect that such a powerful noble would masquerade as one so lowly.’

Octavian snickered. Tatiana raised a finger in his direction. The small gesture silenced him. He turned away and busied himself as she moved toward Nasir. ‘Do I assume to know how your potions and brews should be mixed?’

‘No, of course not—’

‘Do I tell you what metals to transform?’

‘No, but—’

‘Then don’t do any thinking for me. Understood?’

He