Doc spread his hands. “I’m standing at his door, right, trying to get him to let me in and I hear glass breaking. Fritz is already twitchy, so now I’m thinking someone’s in there, threatening him or who knows what. I bust through the door in time to catch somebody going down the fire escape. I chase the guy, but don’t catch him because on my way out, I tell Fritz to call the cops.” Doc rolled his eyes. “They show up and guess who gets tapped?”
“Damn,” Creek said. “Not your night.”
Doc sat back. “Dude vanishes. Me? I’m wearing bracelets and get to spend the night downtown. You know they can hold you for twenty-four hours without charging you?”
Creek shot him a look. “Yeah, I’m intimately acquainted with the penal system.”
“I guess you are.” Doc shook his head. “I almost had that guy too. Got a swipe in, but couldn’t hang on to him.”
“A swipe?”
Doc held his hand up and shifted to his half-form, popping inch-and-a-half claws out of his fingertips.
“Double damn.” Suddenly it was Creek’s turn to sit up. “Are you saying you sliced the guy?”
“Yes. Across the back.”
“The field of suspects just got narrower.”
Doc sighed. “Not really. Varcolai heal too fast for there to still be a mark on him so any chance of identifying him that way is long gone by now.”
Creek shook his head as he reached for his phone. “I saw this guy. I was out on patrol, heard the report over the police scanner, and headed toward the action. I ran across a wounded varcolai lying in an alley. Leopard, I think. Whatever is big and spotted.” He raised one shoulder. “Sorry, I don’t know the breeds well enough to say. Anyway, this cat had four slices across its back. I left it alone, but hung out across the street because I thought the blood scent might draw some fringe, which it did, but the few vamps that sniffed around didn’t stay long.”
He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “A couple hours later, a guy walks out of the alley. I took a few pictures because you just never know.” He pulled up one and held it out for Doc to see.
Doc’s mouth opened and his eyes glimmered green-gold. He cursed softly under his breath.
Creek set the phone on the table. “I take it you know this guy?”
“Hell yes.” Doc picked up the phone, still staring at the photo. “That lying piece of Brazilian trash. That’s Heaven’s brother, Remo.”
After saying good-bye to Chrysabelle, Mal had one mission left. Delay Tatiana’s plans until Chrysabelle had enough time to get to the Garden of Eden ahead of them. Fortunately, Tatiana was so focused on what had happened with Octavian, the plan to get Lilith to the Garden had been put aside for the moment.
“How could he,” she snarled, stomping across the sitting room like the madwoman she was. “He was dead. I saw the ashes. Kosmina told me he killed himself because he knew he’d end up dying at my hands for his betrayal. Then he comes back here? Not dead and thinking I’d somehow forgive him for—” She stopped and stared at Mal, but her gaze was wild and unfixed. “Kosmina,” she whispered. “How did she see him kill himself when he wasn’t really dead?”
Kosmina’s words about her time here being short suddenly made sense. She’d probably slipped away, knowing her story about Octavian would be revealed as a lie now that he’d shown up. “Must have been some kind of black magic.”
If Tatiana even heard him, she didn’t show it. She yanked open the doors to the sitting room and charged out into the hall. “Kosmina,” she bellowed. “Now!” Then she stomped back in and returned to muttering.
Shockingly, Kosmina appeared a few moments later. “Yes, my lady?” She didn’t look at Mal once.
“Octavian was here.” Tatiana’s eyes were white-hot silver.
She nodded, head down, hands clasped. Ever the dutiful servant in appearance. “Yes, my lady. I saw him.”
“Just like you saw him kill himself?”
Kosmina blinked once, but didn’t falter. “Yes, my lady. Surely he tricked me with magic. I am very sorry.”
“Sorry?” Tatiana trembled with visible rage.
Mal sighed like the whole thing bored him, but the voices were on the verge of chaos. It was like they could smell the potential for bloodshed. “Can we get back to business?” They still hadn’t discussed how they were going to persuade Lilith to go with them to the Garden. “Yes, it’s shocking that Octavian showed up, but who cares about what this kine saw or didn’t see?”
She looked at him. “Don’t you get it? This kine was in league with him.” She pointed at Kosmina with her metal hand, the fingers melding until they stretched forward into a short blade. “She must have known he was working against me.” New pain flared in her eyes. “Which means he was really working for you.”
With new determination, she stalked toward Mal. “Was he? Was Octavian working with you and the comarré whore to steal Lilith? Tell me. There can be no secrets between us if our plans are going to work.”
The word “whore” caused Mal’s anger to tick upward. The voices cheered. The urge to take Tatiana by the throat and shake her until her neck snapped itched along his nerves. How did Kosmina stand it? “No, he wasn’t working for me. And I doubt very much this servant could have helped him in any way. You’re wasting time. We have a task.”