Blood Redemption (Page 46)

"Lissa is alive. The Larentii confirmed it," Roff replied.

"Thank goodness." Heathe sank onto the sofa inside Lissa’s private study. Roff had brought them inside to deliver the news. Cheedas was weeping, but they were tears of relief, now.

"Where is she?" Grant asked.

"They wouldn’t even tell the rest of her mates." Roff was certainly upset over that. He wanted Lissa on Le-Ath Veronis. He wanted to protect her. Just as the others did. He knew Rigo was about to explode from a lack of information. He was Lissa’s newest and he’d gotten precious little time with her. Shadow, too, was extremely upset and angry.

All of Lissa’s mates wanted her back so they could put their hands on her, yet she was elsewhere and that information was withheld. Roff hadn’t failed to notice Kifirin’s absence, either. Regardless, the rest of them were determined to find the one responsible for handing information to Pearlina. Gavin and the others were currently getting that information from the Black Mist operative, who was being questioned in the dungeons.

* * *

"He has wizards and warlocks under his command? You are sure of this?" Erland didn’t like what he was hearing. "Do you have any names?"

"I only heard one name," Pearlina admitted reluctantly. The stupid Black Mist bastard had assured her that none could get past his compulsion. He hadn’t counted on the Larentii. They were fools—all of them, and now Pearlina was about to pay the price for spying.

"And the name was?" Erland pushed.

"Zellar." Erland sent mindspeech to Wylend as quickly as he could without being obvious about it.

"How many other wizards or warlocks?" Erland continued his questioning while receiving mindspeech from Wylend, who was issuing a bounty on Zellar immediately.

"I only know of three." Pearlina pouted.

"Who gave you the information about the Queen?" Gardevik snarled. He was about to snatch up the bitch and squeeze her until she died.

"That comesula that comes into my shop to buy. Thinks of himself as female and buys dresses. That one. I don’t know his name." To Pearlina, all comesuli were male.

Gavin had been listening patiently while the others questioned the Black Mist spy. He slammed his fist into the stone walls of the dungeon, breaking rock with the blow. He knew now who the culprit was, as did the others.

* * *

"Rolfe, what do you tell Giff, regarding the Queen?" Wlodek had been brought in for this. He liked it as little as the others, but this was where it started. Rolfe, as Spawn Hunter for the Saa Thalarr, could not lie. He wouldn’t have been able to ignore Wlodek’s compulsion, either, had the former Head of the Council chosen to employ it.

"Anything she asks," Rolfe admitted. He was beginning to worry. The Saa Thalarr all knew, as did the Spawn Hunters, that Lissa was still alive. The Larentii had confirmed it.

"And she wanted to know where the Queen was, didn’t she?" Wlodek sat on the edge of Lissa’s desk, toying with a handheld comp-vid lying upon it.

"I had no reason at the time to keep that information from her."

"She likes to gossip with the dress shop employee where she buys her clothing." Wlodek wasn’t accusing Rolfe. He might have done the same in Rolfe’s place.

"I suspected as much—she spends much time there, when she shops."

"And much money." The inner circle had already researched the financial records.

"Yes."

"The shop employee was a Black Mist spy. Giff supplied information on the Queen’s whereabouts. Trell was blown to bits when Black Mist tried to kill Lissa."

"Kill me. I beg you not to harm Giff." Rolfe slid to his knees in front of the former head of the Vampire Council.

"Rolfe, I think that will be for the Queen to decide. In the meantime, you can either place compulsion on Giff or we can lock her in the dungeon. Which would you prefer?" Wlodek looked down at Rolfe’s bowed head. Rolfe would be the one to suffer over this. Along with six-hundred-million people, whose lives were snuffed out in a blink.

"I will place compulsion." Rolfe sounded defeated.

* * *

"Lissa Beth, can we have dinner in your suite?" Norian stood beside me as I gazed over the gardens outside Ildevar Wyyld’s palace. Ildevar had servants, but they were few and discreet. Guards were stationed along the outer walls, but there weren’t many inside the walls. Ildevar protected himself, I was pretty sure.

Norian was dressed better than I’d ever seen him dress. Fine fabrics replaced the sturdy uniform he normally wore, which consisted of black pants, boots and gray shirt. He looked good in a white silk tunic with a long, finely woven green vest. Linen pants in a darker green rounded out the outfit—it was the Wyyldan style of dress. The servants wore a plainer, pared-down version of it. Ildevar was dressed similarly to Norian, I’d noticed.

"You stay here, when you’re not on assignment," I said, only now realizing it. It made sense—if Ildevar wanted Norian as his heir.

"I do. Deonus Wyyld was one of the few who was kind to me when I was young. He offered a place to stay and told me to keep it."

"You look nice," I fingered the fabric of his vest.

"You look beautiful. But you always look beautiful."

"Honey, I don’t think I looked very good with fangs and claws out," I sighed.

"Lissa, that is what you are. Just as I am what I am, when I turn."

"Are you ever in a place where you feel comfortable turning?" I wanted to touch his face, but held back.

"I’ve gone to the jungles on a few worlds when I have time off. I can turn there without worrying about it. When I turned inside your palace and crawled alongside you, that was a first for me. It was the first time I was able—and welcome—to do that with people all around me. I didn’t know that Le-Ath Veronis would be the place to welcome a shape-shifting lion snake."

"Ask Drake and Drew to turn for you, sometime," I said.

"The Falchani? I didn’t know they were shapeshifters." Norian put his arm around me as we both surveyed the gardens below. My suite was three stories up, with a lovely view. Ildevar, Ra’Ak that he was, seemed to appreciate flowers and ornamental shrubs just as much as anyone.

"They’re not—not normally," I answered Norian’s question regarding the twins. "Those dragon tattoos aren’t just for show, you know."

"They turn to dragons? How?" Norian turned me to look at him, and I was folded into his arms, my hands against his chest. Green eyes studied my face while a whisper of a smile tugged at his mouth.