Last Blood
“Mortalis and I have taken the necessary precautions.”
Creek pointed to the sleeping loft. “Regardless, you might want to watch from up there.” He pulled his phone out and checked the time. “She’ll be here soon.”
A knock rang out from the door.
“Or now.” As Dominic and Mortalis headed upstairs, Creek went to let Annika in. “Right on time.”
“This isn’t something to be late for.” She came in, phone in hand. She tapped the screen as he secured the shop again. It lit up with a document. She held it out to him. “I need you to read this and press your thumb to the signature box when you’re done.”
He took the phone. “What is it?”
“Your termination agreement.”
He scrolled through it. Page after page flew by. “Give me the bullet points.”
“You agree to hold harmless the Kubai Mata in any past, present, and future events. You agree to deny all knowledge of them and their operations, as they will of you. Furthermore, you understand that any and all subsidies provided to you by the KM will cease to exist the moment you sign off.”
“Una’s scholarship?”
“As discussed, it terminates at the end of her current semester.”
“But not before.”
“Not before.” She nodded at the phone. “It’s all in there.”
At least that would buy him a few months to scrounge up the plastic to pay that bill. “What about the brands on my back?”
She scowled. “We’re not the comarré, Creek. I’m not going to cut them out of you if that’s what you’re asking.”
Yeah, actually, it was. Good to know. He lifted the phone. “Anything else in here I need to know about?”
“The KM has the right to call on you in the future, but you also have the right to refuse. If you agree, you’ll be paid on a case-per-case basis.”
“I’m never going to say yes.”
“I know.” She smiled. “I also know you should never say never.” She tipped her head back like she was looking up. “Either one is a good choice for a second.”
He pressed his thumb to the screen. A second later, the phone buzzed, and then the one in his pocket did the same. He handed Annika’s phone back to her as he pulled his out. A copy of the document was in his mail.
She pointed at the device. “You can keep your halm and crossbow as parting mementos, but I’m going to need that back.”
He held up the phone. “Then how am I going to keep a copy of that agreement?”
“Send me a copy,” Dominic called down. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”
Annika nodded and began typing in the e-mail address Dominic gave her. Creek set his phone on the cable spool. The rumble of an old, gas-burning engine died outside and a car door slammed. The sounds of the neighborhood. He glanced around the machine shop. Yes, it was a dump, but it had been home for a few months. Now he was without a place to live and stuck with a new job that had the potential to be just as bad as his old one. Maybe this hadn’t been the right decision.
The shop door squealed on its track and a familiar face peeked through the gap.
Creek’s gut knotted. “What are you doing here?”
Mawmaw’s thick, black-rimmed glasses made her eyes seem bigger than they really were. “Is that any way to greet your grandmother?”
“Now’s not really a good time.”
She squeezed in through the narrow opening, tugging her overstuffed purse along behind her. “Don’t say things that make you look ridiculous. Now’s the perfect time.” She shifted her gaze to Annika, then shot a quick look at Dominic and Mortalis. “I see all the players are here.”
“Players?” Creek’s level of confusion jumped up a notch. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that you’re not going through this without family to support you.” She plopped her purse on the coffee table and took a seat. “Now.” Her eyes narrowed on Annika like she was trying to defeat the sector chief herself. “Let’s get on with it, shall we? I ain’t getting any younger.”
Mal stepped through the portal to find Damian waiting. The smell of his blood roused the voices, but only slightly. After time in the Garden, they seemed subdued. Almost awed by the experience. Perhaps it had been the realization that he could have ended his existence—and theirs—with the Tree of Life’s fruit.
The comar’s hackles went up at the sight of Chrysabelle in Mal’s arms. “What happened? What’s wrong?” His gaze dropped to the little girl holding on to Mal’s pant leg. “Who is that?”
“Quiet,” Mal said. “She’s sleeping.” Chrysabelle sighed deeply. “She’s exhausted.” He tipped his head toward Lilith. “And this is Lilith.”
His brows shot up, disbelief rounding his eyes. “Lilith? As in the big, bad vampire everyone was worried about?”
“Yes. Long story, but first I need to get your sister in bed so she can rest.” Lilith crowded Mal’s leg.
Damian backed away.
“She’s not a vampire anymore, Damian. She’s a child again. An innocent.” Chrysabelle stirred, so he dropped his voice as much as he could without losing the urgency. “All the ancient evil that twisted her up is gone.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Now move.”