Velimai shook her head. Doorbell woke them both. Breakfast?
“That would be great. I’m sure Creek’s hungry after his fight last night. And I can always eat. Mal…” Mal’s need for blood hung in the air like a bad smell. “I guess I can’t send Mal to the guesthouse for his breakfast, can I? Wouldn’t be very hospitable of me.”
They should contribute something, Velimai signed, a wicked glint in her soft gray eyes.
“Vel, you’re a bad influence. Is there any blood in the fridge?”
Yes, but it’s old.
“It’ll have to do. I could use the strength the exchange would give me, but I am not kissing Mal right now.” Although she’d planned to last night. Just like she’d planned to let him stay anyway before Creek had shown up.
You tell him that. He doesn’t like me. Velimai, whose tolerance of Mal had only grown marginally in the last few weeks, frowned, took the bell, and left.
“Really? Sure it’s not the other way around?” Chrysabelle called after her. Kissing Mal while his heart beat with the power of her blood would give her a share of his power, the same exchange that normally happened through a bite. But her emotions, both good and bad, were too close to the surface this morning for such intimate contact.
Shaking her head, she slipped out of bed and stretched slowly. The ache in her back had become a permanent thing. Leaning forward, she took a few deep breaths to push it away. At last she rose and shed her silk nightgown for a white tunic and pants and white leather slippers. A quick brush of her teeth and hair and she was ready. Heading downstairs, she twisted her hair back with a band and inhaled the happy scents of coffee and breakfast wafting up from Velimai’s kitchen. In the living room, Creek sat on the edge of one leather sofa while Mal hung in the most shadowed corner near the foyer. Both men looked as rested as she felt, which wasn’t very. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Creek said.
Mal lifted his chin toward the door. “You expecting company?”
“It’s Mortalis.”
“Then I’m going back to sleep.” Mal disappeared down the hall to the windowless interior room he’d racked out in. Built as a hurricane shelter, it did great double duty protecting the UV-intolerant, although Maris was probably rolling in her grave that there was a vampire in her house. Chrysabelle couldn’t help but hope her mother would have thought differently if she’d had a chance to know Mal.
Creek stood, shifting uncomfortably. “I’ll help Velimai. Give you some privacy.”
It wasn’t necessary, but she appreciated it. “Thanks. I’ll just be a sec.”
She opened the door and stared out at the empty front porch. “Mortalis?”
“Here,” he answered, the sound of his voice closer than she’d expected.
She stared harder, finally picking out the faint outline of the fae. Shadeux fae couldn’t be seen in the sun. “Will you be visible if you get out of daylight?”
“A little more.”
“Then come in, please.” She moved out of the way.
“Don’t you have company?”
“Yes, but they know what’s going on.”
“Fine.” He crossed the threshold into the foyer and took on a slightly more tangible form. “Look, I don’t have good news.” The barbs on his forearms flexed in and out, like they were breathing. He was clearly agitated.
“About the ring?”
He looked off to one side for a moment. “Yes. I don’t have it.”
“What? Why? I need that ring. I gave it to you for safekeeping.” Warning bells clanged in her head.
“I know. And it’s still safe, but…” He sighed and grabbed hold of one horn, rubbing the hard surface as if he were trying to remove a spot of dirt. He dropped his hand and made eye contact. “I gave the ring to one of the elektos, a fae council member. They have the ability to cross into the fae plane much more easily than the rest of us. Keeping the ring there means no one can detect it—Castus, vampire, or otherwise.”
“And?” Her patience was thinning.
“And now he won’t give it back until he speaks to you in person.”
“What?” Her teeth clenched, her body tensed, and a new spike of pain drove into her back. “I need that ring.”
“I know, I know.” He exhaled and rubbed at his horn again. “If I had known this would happen, I would have tried to cross into the plane myself, but—”
“Mortalis, I want that ring and I want it now.” She could see why Mal punched walls. “You tell this elektos that ring is my property. If I don’t get it back, I will hunt him down and kill him.”
Mortalis swallowed. “You have every right to be angry.”
“Angry? You’re lucky I don’t have a blade on me now.”
“Hey,” he snapped. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was doing you a favor, remember?”
She cradled her forehead in her fingers. “Why does he want to speak to me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good. Great.” The pain echoed in other parts of her body now. “Let me get armed and we’ll go. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”
“That’s the other part of it. The elektos reside in the haven city of New Orleans.”
She paused for a second. “And he’s not coming here, is he?”