Blood Rights

‘You want to know if the girl lives.’

‘Yes.’

‘Let me confer with the others and I shall return with an answer.’ Rennata pushed to her feet, leaning heavily on her cane.

As soon as she left the room, Tatiana closed her eyes and concentrated, listening, sensing, trying to eavesdrop as best her abilities would allow. The house was strangely quiet. At any given time there might be several hundred comarré here, and yet she heard nothing. No voices, no movement, no breathing. Not even a heartbeat. Still, she could sense she was not alone. She opened her eyes and studied the room’s opulent appointments. Crystal and silk, gilding and exotic woods, rare paintings and priceless sculptures. Comarré were well compensated for their services, that much was plain. Granted, blood from this house had been proven to be the best of the best and so these comarré demanded the highest price of all, but still the grandness of it gnawed at her cold heart.

For the donation of blood, they lived like nobility. Was what beat in their veins that special? Unfortunately, it was. The purity was unmatched. The power it gave was remarkable. The taste – her cheeks ached – was richer than the finest wine, more succulent than any ordinary mortal could ever be. And merely owning a comarré indicated a vampire’s wealth and status. She eased her grip on the chair and tried to remain calm. She was almost done here. Then she could return home. To her own comar. What had Rennata called him? David? Daniel?

‘Mistress Tatiana, we will grant you access this once.’

She stood and nodded. ‘Very kind of you.’

Rennata’s eyes flashed. ‘If you would follow me.’

The halls they traveled were dim, the adjoining doors closed. Occasionally, Tatiana picked up what might have been a heartbeat or distant pulse, but for the most part silence shrouded the house.

At last, they stopped before a simply carved door, no different from the multitude of others they’d passed.

Rennata unlocked it with a long, ornate key, then stepped out of the way. Tatiana twisted the knob and pushed the door open. It swung slowly, revealing a narrow cell, austerely furnished. The crest of Algernon’s house hung over the bed and a pair of diamond-crusted slippers sat beneath it, the only two indicators that the occupant had some means. She looked at Rennata. ‘This is typical?’

‘Yes. While a comarré’s true home remains in their house of origin, most of their possessions are kept in the quarters provided by their patrons. Where they spend the most time.’

Tatiana turned back to the room. Only if the girl were dead would no invitation be necessary to enter her room. If the girl was alive, Tatiana would be knocked back. Entering would not be impossible, but the consequences would be horrific. Fatal, if endured long enough. She straightened, stepped forward, and crossed the threshold with ease.

Rennata swallowed and exhaled a shuddering breath.

An angry mix of satisfaction and disappointment welled inside Tatiana as she twisted to face the madam. ‘The girl is dead then.’

‘So it appears.’ Rennata rubbed a knuckle against the corner of her eye.

The need for sleep pulled at the edges of Tatiana’s consciousness. Time to wrap this up before she went comatose where she stood. ‘Does the girl have any living family?’

‘We are all her family. No comarré knows her birth parents.’

Tatiana’s brow wrinkled as she fought the creeping fog of daysleep. ‘I am certain there was someone. A sister … or an aunt, perhaps … ’

‘Every comar and comarré of her age is a sibling. Every older comarré her aunt, every older comar her uncle.’

Tatiana’s frustration grew. ‘There was one. No longer with you.’

‘Not that we remember.’

‘Ah, yes, I forgot you have your own sort of anathema. Those who leave are never spoken of again, isn’t that right?’ She waved her hand through the air. ‘Stricken from all records, that sort of thing? While I completely understand the need to remove the weaker members of your family, this is vital information. I’m sure the council will find a way to get it out of you.’

Rennata’s jaw tightened for a split second. ‘There was an aunt. All record of her has been destroyed.’

Tatiana couldn’t help but smile at how easy that had been. ‘Very well. Lead me out. I’m ready to go.’ She’d have to send word to the Nothos, redirect them to search for the ring. They might balk at being used as a lost-and-found service, but not for long if they valued their undead lives.

When they reached the great hall, Tatiana strode past Rennata, stopping only at the front door. She stabbed a warning finger toward the woman. ‘Don’t touch that room. The council will undoubtedly wish to inspect it as well. Her death doesn’t make her innocent, only dead.’

Rennata bowed her head. ‘Yes, mistress.’

Tatiana pulled up her hood and slid her sunglasses into place before charging out and slamming the door. She skidded to a halt on the shaded side of the portico. Her driver was already out and rushing toward her, umbrella at the ready to shield her from the sun’s killing rays.

‘Home, mistress?’ He lifted the broad stretch of silk above her as she stepped off the portico toward the car.

Secure in a wide circle of shadow, she nodded, too exhausted to say anything. Staying awake this long had been draining but very worthwhile. Her hand found the locket around her neck, her fingers smoothing across the single ruby on the locket’s front. The original was gone, this one the closest replica she’d been able to find.