She smiled halfheartedly. “I know it’s your job to protect the citizens of Paradise City. Try to think of Mal as one of those citizens who needs protecting from himself.”
He stood. “You’ve got my word. I’ll let you know if I see him, okay?”
She bent her head. Was she crying? “Thanks,” she whispered. “And if I can’t get him better…” Her voice broke.
“You want me to—”
“No.” Her head came up, eyes sharp and liquid. “If it comes to that, I’ll take care of him myself.” She looked away again. “I owe him that much.”
The plane’s landing barely registered. Tatiana knew she’d arrived but the numbness of the last few days had erased the small sensations from her notice. She moved through the fog with as much purpose as she could manage, but the task before her was daunting. Bigger than anything she’d tackled alone before.
Which was why she had come to Paradise City to make a deal with the man who’d saved her from the gallows when she was human. The man who’d turned her into the creature she was today and who she’d cut a swath of destruction through Europe with centuries ago. The man who’d been her husband and had since become her immortal enemy.
Malkolm Bourreau.
“We’ve landed, my lady.” The fringe pilot stood beside her seat.
She nodded.
He stayed there, tipping his head slightly, trying to make eye contact. “What would you like us to do?”
She got up, but couldn’t find the energy to focus on him. “Stay in the hangar with the plane.”
“Yes, my lady.” He went back to the cockpit.
Pulling herself up a little taller, she took a tiny scrap of fabric from her pocket. One of the guards had found it at Syler’s estate. It matched the coat Mal had been wearing the night he and his whore had tried to steal Lilith from her. The fabric was little more than a few threads, but it was all she had to go on. She walked to the back of the plane and opened the bedroom door.
The Nothos she’d secured there raised its stinking head.
She held the fabric out. “Find this vampire.”
The creature inhaled, nearly dragging the shredded bits into its nostrils. “Yes, my lady.” And with that it took off, its loping gait carrying it through the plane and down the steps in a few strides. Tatiana scattered into a swarm of black wasps and followed it out of the hangar and into the night.
They went for miles, the Nothos running without tiring, stopping only to affirm the trail, then taking off again. An hour passed. Maybe two. If the creature didn’t find Mal soon, she might have to seek shelter from the sunrise.
Then it stopped. Tatiana came back together beside it. “Here?”
It lifted one unnaturally jointed arm and pointed. “There, my lady.”
She gestured behind her. “Take cover in that warehouse. Stay there until I need you.”
“Yes, my lady.” It loped away.
She inhaled. The stink of petrol and oil and rotting sea life almost hid the dark spice of vampire, but it was there. Hands on her hips, she stared at the abandoned freighter and a little of the numbness faded from her body. This encounter could very well end up with her death. She pulled the locket around her neck free from her clothing so that it could be seen. Mal would know what it was and that reminder might buy her a few minutes. Then she started up the gangplank.
Thoughts of her fine home filled her head as she boarded the ship. She’d come to offer him the life of his comarré in exchange for his help, but perhaps money would do more good. Judging by his living situation, he could certainly use it. Didn’t the comarré have any money? Why wasn’t she taking care of him? Or perhaps things were not that way between them. She ran her hand over one of the railings. Flakes of paint and rust rained into the water below. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a hard bargain to strike after all.
Making her way cautiously inside, she kept her senses open for any sounds of movement. If Mal found her and killed her before she had a chance to explain…
Dim solars offered a little light here and there. Enough for her to pick her way, but the ship’s interior was a maze of stairs and turns, four-way crosses, and dead ends. She inhaled again, finding his scent a little stronger and, this time, mixed with blood. She went after that. Blood was easy to follow, even though she’d fed from Aaron before she’d left.
Down a long hall she spotted an open door. Soundlessly, she made her way toward it and peeked inside. Mal lay on the bedroom floor, looking very much like he’d been dumped there. She nudged his leg with the toe of her boot.
Nothing.
She nudged harder. Still no response. She grabbed his arm, picked it up, and let it drop. It hit the floor with a dull thud. She’d never known him to be such a sound sleeper. She kicked his thigh. “Wake up! How can you daysleep when it’s night?”
He still didn’t move. Frustrated, she bent down and sniffed his open mouth. Sweet but a tiny bit bitter at the same time. “Bloody hell.” Laudanum. Who had drugged him? Well, there was only one way to bring him out of it besides waiting for it to wear off on its own.
She tossed her jacket aside, pulled her sleeve up, and bit into her wrist, then held it over his mouth, letting the blood trickle in. When the wound closed, she did it again and was about to do it a third time when he came to. She jerked back into the shadows of the room.
He sat up and reached for his head, growling softly. He rolled his shoulders as if testing his body. “Damn it, not again.”