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Bad Blood

“Like what?”

“You said you’ve been getting reports about animal sightings. Anything else?”

She hesitated, her mouth hardening. “Yes. Many other things. Things that should not—do not—exist.”

“They do exist. And you need to accept that.”

She stared at him, her jaw working like she was going to scream or cry. “I don’t think you have a clear idea of the kind of reports I’m getting.”

“Vampires. People who shift into animal forms. Creatures with horns. Unnaturally colored skin.” Gold tattoos. Branded skin.

She shook her head. “Those things aren’t real. No intelligent person would ever believe that.”

“They will. Halloween is three days away. The potential exists for greater chaos to erupt. It’s part of the reason I’m here. To protect mankind.”

The doubt and fear on her face gave way to anger. She slit her eyes at him. “I don’t appreciate being made a fool of.”

He straightened. “I’m telling you the truth.”

She untucked her legs. “John,” she called. “Please escort Mr. Creek out.”

Creek stood and yanked his T-shirt off over his head. “Look at my wounds. Do you think most humans heal this fast?”

Havoc ran into the room, but the mayor’s gaze was on Creek’s shoulder. “I don’t know how hurt you were to begin with.” She looked away. “You need to go.”

“And you need to face what’s happening in this city.” He held a hand out to keep Havoc at bay.

She stood. “You told me you could explain what my daughter had done to herself. You haven’t done that. What you have done is waste my time.”

“Your daughter became a kind of counterfeit comarré. Comarré, the real ones, are an elite source of blood for vampires.”

“I don’t want this to be real.” The mayor shook her head. “It’s a nightmare.”

“That’s enough,” Havoc warned.

Creek glared at him. “Don’t tell me what to say, shifter.”

“Shut your mouth, tribe, or I’m going to make you hurt.” Havoc approached, arms reaching.

Creek backed up, buying time. “Mayor, I can introduce you to a real comarré and a real vampire. They can help explain. Prove what I’m saying and what you’re seeing is true.”

“No, I’m done with this. These lies.” She covered her face with her hands.

“Not lies. Truth. Watch.” Creek charged Havoc, ducked the man’s punch, and came up behind him, snaring him in a headlock. He yanked off the shifter’s sunglasses. Havoc growled and the mayor’s mouth dropped open.

She held out a shaking finger. “His eyes…”

“He’s varcolai. An animal shifter. Wolf, in case you hadn’t guessed.” He released the snarling Havoc, pushing him away at the same time.

“Dios mio.” She sank back onto the couch, going slightly green. “John, is that true?”

Havoc snatched his shades and shoved them back onto his face. “Yes, Madam Mayor. I’ll get my things and go.” He pointed at Creek. “You, I’ll be waiting for outside.”

“No, John, wait.” She stopped him. “I’ve known something was different about you lately.” She inhaled. “I don’t know what to think.” Her gaze drifted from Havoc to Creek and back again. “You’ve been an exemplary employee. Your… situation doesn’t change that, does it?”

“No, ma’am.”

She nodded, looking dazed. “You wouldn’t hurt me?”

“I would take a bullet for you.”

“You’ve proven that, haven’t you?” She glanced at her hands. “You stay. Nothing changes. Nothing between us anyway.”

“Appreciate that.” Havoc didn’t sound like he fully believed what she said, and Creek didn’t blame him. How could the mayor not look at him differently now?

“You.” She tipped her head at Creek. “You get this comarré woman and this vampire here by tomorrow night at the latest. If you’re trying to pull something, you can consider yourself the main suspect in my daughter’s murder.” She stood up, brushing herself off. “With your record, I can put you in a holding cell so fast it’ll make your head spin. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” No way in hell was he going back in and losing his position with the KM. That would mean losing Una’s tuition money. Not happening. “Getting the comarré here is not a problem.” Except Chrysabelle had refused to see him every time he’d been to her house. “Not a problem at all.”

After calming Mal down, Chrysabelle was about to return to Atticus’s side when Mortalis spoke. “If things are settled here, I have duties I should attend to. Atticus, if you need me, you know how to reach me. I assume you two can find your way out when you’re ready to go?”

They both nodded. As soon as Mortalis was gone, Chrysabelle returned to Atticus’s side. “Are you being kept here against your will? We can get you out if—”

Atticus laughed, patting her hand. “I am here freely and quite happy.”

She shook her head. “How is that possible? I didn’t think signumists were allowed to leave the houses they worked for.”

His smile disappeared. “They aren’t. But now is not the time for my story. Tell me what brings you here.”

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