Flesh and Blood

‘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 right. I was so worried.’ She wrung her hands, studying him as if he were a lost love come home. What a farce.

Mal leaped to his feet. ‘Like hell you were. You’re the one who gave me that doctored blood.’

Mortalis held his hands up. ‘Hold on. What doctored blood?’

Mal ignored him as Katsumi lifted her chin. ‘I may have given it to you, but I had nothing to do with it being tainted.’ She laced and unlaced her fingers with theatrical precision. ‘I had money on you. A lot of money. Why would I do anything that would ruin my chances of winning?’

Mortalis nodded. ‘She’s got a point.’

Mal scowled. ‘No, she doesn’t. Why are you defending her?’

Mortalis, standing slightly in front of Katsumi, gave Mal a glare. ‘I’m not defending her. I’m trying to sort this out.’

Katsumi had the audacity to feign hurt. ‘I thought I could do something to help, but if you’re going to act like such a child, then—’

Mortalis turned to her. ‘You want to help? Go find Ronan.’

‘He’s still alive?’ Mal asked.

‘Yes.’ Katsumi sniffed. ‘The fight was declared a draw. No winner. Mortalis brought you here. I took Ronan back to the cells, then went to get a med kit. When I came back, he was gone.’

No wonder she was so bunched up. She’d lost money and a willing fighter. ‘Mortalis is right. Go find Ronan so I can finish what I started.’

‘You’ll fight him again?’ Her eyes lit up with appalling glee.

‘No, I’m just going to kill him.’

She jabbed a finger at him. ‘You want to take him out, do it in the pit. We have an agreement and you owe me.’

‘Getting poisoned canceled any agreement between us.’

She started to argue back, but Mortalis stopped her. ‘Enough. You have a club to run while your head of security is missing.’

She poked a long, red nail into his shoulder. ‘It’s Dominic’s club. He has a problem with how it’s being run, he can tell me himself. I don’t need to hear it from his boy.’

Boy? Mal raised his brows. Katsumi must have a death wish.

Mortalis stared down at her, his eyes black slits against his sooty skin. ‘You’d think a creature with no soul would take a little care around someone like me.’ He stepped toward her. ‘Unless you need reminding what my kind are capable of.’

Mal crossed his arms. ‘Never hurts to have a refresher.’

‘Bite me,’ Katsumi spat.