‘Daylight is the safest time to look for nests.’ Or stand guard over the comarré. Creek had stayed long after dawn had chased Mal away. He glanced over. Argent crouched beside the bike and stroked the transmission, one of the few chromed pieces on the custom V-Rod. The engine was blazing hot, but dragons had a weakness for shine and a high tolerance for heat.
‘True. How goes it?’
‘Not a social visit, then.’ Like Creek had thought for half a second that’s what this was about. ‘It goes fine.’
‘You have the ring?’
Creek wrenched the cap off the bottle and took a long swallow. ‘It’s not going that fine.’
Argent straightened and turned to face Creek. ‘The grand masters would like to know how things are proceeding. What should I tell them?’
He leaned against the workbench that served as his kitchen table. ‘That I’ve found the comarré. She was injured fighting some hellhounds, so things are going slow until she heals.’
The section chief nodded. ‘Has she mentioned the ring? Does she at least still have it? The grand masters are anxious to recover their property.’
‘I’m sure they are. Having such a valuable piece stolen from their archives must really bite the big one.’
Argent tensed. ‘Answer the question.’
‘She’s mentioned it. No idea if she knew her patron Algernon was a KM double agent or not. She doesn’t seem the type to have been working a scheme like that with him.’
‘Do you think she’ll give the ring back willingly, then?’
‘Can’t answer that. Remind me what the ring does again?’ Not that he’d even been told in the first place.
‘That information is need-to-know only.’
‘And I still don’t need to know.’ He chugged half the beer.
‘No, you do not. Just work your end with the comarré.’
‘Like I said, I’m only just getting to know her.’
Argent’s forked tongue flicked out. The mythical shifters had a hard time staying fully human. ‘She’s been here recently. You must be getting to know her well.’
‘Not yet, no.’ And certainly not as well as the vampire. But Creek was patient.
Argent’s narrow pupils latched onto him. ‘Then work harder.’
He gave a weak salute. ‘Aye, aye, Section Chief.’
‘Don’t blur the line between protector and friend, Creek.’
He took a pull from his beer and let it cool the temper heating his words. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’
Argent walked back to the V-Rod, strolled around to the other side, and squatted to better see the shiny bits on the engine. ‘Tatiana is here.’
‘So are her Nothos. That’s how the comarré was injured.’
Through spaces in the engine, Creek watched Argent trail his fingers over the chrome parts. ‘You must work harder. Samhain approaches. With their parties and their costumes, humans will unwittingly call up a myriad of creatures that will have to be dealt with. Having that power-hungry vampiress running loose will not help the situation.’
‘I understand.’
Argent stood. ‘Good. Because I would hate for your sister to lose her scholarship.’
‘So would I.’ Just like he’d hate to serve the rest of his sentence for a brand-new murder. He ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he’d regret.
‘Very well.’ Argent slid the cargo door open. The sun hung low in the afternoon sky. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
‘I’m sure you will.’ Creek nodded his good-bye, glad to get the shifter out of his space so he could crash for a few and be rested for tonight’s hunt. He’d have to stay away from Chrysabelle’s for a few days, no matter how much he wanted to see her. Long enough for Argent to get bored and move on.
With a shiver, Argent switched to his dragon form, spread his massive wings, and disappeared into the sky.
Dominic stared through Katsumi’s helioglazed windows at the dying sun. The time was nearly at hand. He turned to face her. She lay prone on her bed. They’d decided her own apartment was the best place to perform the navitas, lest anything should go wrong. ‘This is your last chance to leave things as they are.’
‘No.’ She shook her head and reached for Dominic’s hand. ‘I want this change. I accept that permanent death is a possibility and madness a risk. I am willing.’
He nodded, coming to her side and taking her hand. ‘Your instinct will be to fight me, especially as death enters your body. You must give in. Die completely. Or there will be no rebirth.’
‘I understand.’ She was pale, her face devoid of its usual makeup. Instead of one of her high-necked gowns, she wore a simple robe that bared her throat. The finely drawn petals of a chrysanthemum peeked out from among her myriad of tattoos. She trembled.
‘Don’t be afraid, cara mia. I’m here with you.’ He offered her a smile and squeezed her hand.
Her eyes went liquid as she squeezed them shut and tipped her head back to expose her neck. ‘Please. Now.’
‘Patience. I cannot begin until the sun sets.’ He watched the ball of killing light sink. At last, it touched the horizon. Without another word, Dominic shifted his face and plunged his fangs into her neck. She jerked, but made no sound as she held her arms at her sides. He drank, sampling each swallow for the bitter dregs of death. She cried out as her fringe life drew to a close, bowing against the bed, struggling with the nearness of the end. At last the taste of dust and carbon and burned sugar crossed Dominic’s tongue. He pulled away.