Fi nodded slowly. “It’s pretty common knowledge Dominic wants Tatiana dead for killing the woman he was in love with.” She pushed away from the table. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tatiana stomped down the stairs ahead of Laurent, whom she’d left to deal with the comarré. Octavian waited for them with the car inside the dark hangar, away from the blazing afternoon sun. Being back in Corvinestri was like a weight lifted off her shoulders. He came forward to meet her, his brow furrowed, his eyes wide with worry.
“The Elders called for you early this morning.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “The ancient one finally showed. They want you in St. Petersburg by tonight.”
Bloody hell. Of all the bad timing. “What did you tell them?”
“That yo—that Tatiana had some bad blood and was feeling ill. I blamed it on a servant, said the blood hadn’t been properly refrigerated. I told them things hadn’t been easy since your comar ran away.” He shrugged. “I had to buy time. I didn’t know when you’d be back. I was ready to come get you myself.”
She frowned. She didn’t like the council thinking she was sick, but what else was there? “Good enough. Let’s get Laurent back to the house quickly. Damn fool captured the wrong comarré. But you don’t know that, understand?”
Octavian nodded even as he looked over her shoulder. “Ah, Laurent, there you are. Need help?”
Tatiana turned to see Laurent coming down the jet stairs with the bagged comarré over his shoulder.
“No, I’ve got it.” He patted the comarré’s rump through the bag, causing the girl inside to move. Tatiana shot him the look she expected Daciana would have. He ignored it.
Octavian opened the trunk. Laurent took the hint and dropped the girl inside. She let out a small “ooof” but otherwise kept quiet. After the girl’s outburst in the closet, Tatiana figured she was just happy to be out of New Florida. Tatiana certainly was. But if the girl thought she was going to be welcomed back without some sort of punishment for running, she was sadly mistaken.
Tatiana got into the limo and slid to the seat farthest away from the door. Octavian got in ahead of Laurent and she tapped the seat beside her. He took the spot she indicated, forcing Laurent to sit alone.
“What are you doing on that side, pet? You know I like you to sit beside me.”
“I’m fine where I am.”
He scowled but said nothing. She was completely over the charade. In fact, if she was going to kill them both, she wasn’t sure why she was even maintaining it. Laurent and Daciana had one chance to hear her out and come aboard or she would remove them from her service permanently, although she was starting to feel for Daciana a bit. Laurent was a bloody bore. And excessively affectionate. And more than a little controlling. Not that Daciana had seemed to mind when they were in her office. Tatiana forced a thin smile and batted her eyelashes. “Do you miss me already? We’ve just been on that wretched plane together for a thousand hours.”
Octavian coughed, blinking hard.
Laurent gave her a very unpleasant smile in return. “As long as you’re comfortable, love.”
“Very. Thank you.” She turned back to the window and dropped the smile. Beside her, Octavian shifted, drawing her attention.
He leaned forward, opened the bar’s refrigerator, and extracted a stainless-steel thermos. “Blood?”
She and Laurent answered yes at the same time. Octavian poured hers first and she greedily drank it down. She could have polished off the whole thermos, but that would raise questions with Laurent. Soon, very soon, she’d be able to sleep and recover the drain on her strength from holding Daciana’s image so long.
By the time they reached the house, she’d formulated a plan. Getting in front of the council was important, but heading off to St. Petersburg could wait until she’d dealt with Laurent and Daciana. Too many loose ends wore at her nerves, and with her strength so low, she couldn’t handle having another thing to worry about.
She went inside with Octavian and Laurent, who had the comarré over his shoulder again. They followed Octavian into the main parlor of her house. She inspected as they went. The new head of staff Octavian had hired seemed to be doing an excellent job of keeping the estate in order.
As soon as they entered the parlor, Tatiana turned to Octavian. “Could you direct me to a washroom? I’d like to freshen up before we see Tatiana.”
“Of course. I’ll show you.” Octavian gestured toward the comarré and Laurent. “You stay here, keep an eye on the package. I’ll send Kosmina in to bring you some brandy.”
“Wonderful. I could use a stiff drink.” Laurent dumped the comarré onto a sofa, then settled into one of the plush armchairs before the empty fireplace.
Tatiana followed Octavian out of the room, and when they were a safe distance away, she let the guise of Daciana finally fall away. She stumbled, catching hold of Octavian and leaning on him.
“Are you all right?” He held on to her, concern silvering his eyes.
“I’m exhausted.” She allowed him to bear her weight for a moment. It felt wonderful and she realized how much she’d actually missed him. “I’ve used a tremendous amount of power and had little time to recover.”
Without a second of hesitation, Octavian scooped her into his arms and carried her into the nearby library, where he set her onto a chair. “Rest. I can make an excuse for you.”