Katsumi lay gray and limp. Working quickly before she went to ash, he scored his wrist and forced it against her mouth, flexing his fist to pump the blood. ‘With this blood, I make you flesh of my flesh.’
But she didn’t move.
‘Drink,’ he urged her. ‘Drink.’
Still nothing. Why had he done this? Why had he agreed to this foolishness? The gash on his wrist closed. He tore it open again and put it to her mouth. ‘Dai,’ he begged. ‘Live.’
He opened her mouth farther with his fingers, making sure the blood was getting down her throat. Her skin was cold and powdery to the touch. He cursed himself. He had lost Maris, now he was going to lose Katsumi as well.
The sun slipped lower, the last of its orange light bronzing her lifeless form. He opened the vein on his wrist a third time and tried to feed her again. If he couldn’t revive her before the sun set completely …
The apartment door burst open and Ronan barreled through. He looked from Katsumi to Dominic. His hand strayed to the knife secured to his belt. ‘What happened? What have you done to her?’
‘Nothing.’ How stupido to think he could perform navitas. He’d never seen it done, only understood it from the texts he’d studied ages ago. Before he’d offered to turn Maris. Why had he been such a fool? He pulled Katsumi into his arms and held her, petting her hair to assuage the distress of what he’d done. Any second now she would disintegrate in his arms. Gone forever.
Instead, she coughed. A hard shudder wrenched her body as she coughed again. Her eyes opened. They were as bright silver as a new lira. She cried out as her face shifted, her hands coming up to clutch her cheeks.
Ronan, mouth slightly open, stepped back, shaking his head. ‘Fringe can’t do that. What did you do to her?’
Katsumi cleared her throat and ran her tongue across her new, longer fangs. She laughed, her eyes sparkling, then kissed Dominic on the mouth. ‘Navitas,’ she whispered to Ronan, kissing Dominic again. ‘I am no longer fringe.’
The smile on Dominic’s face caused his cheeks to ache. ‘No, cara mia, you are nobility now. House of St. Germain.’ He kissed her back. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Like I could devour a small nation.’
He rose from the bed. ‘Get dressed and we’ll go to the club and you can have your fill of any comar you wish.’
‘Wonderful.’ She slid off the bed on the other side and dashed into her closet. A second later she stuck her head out, yelled, ‘Welcome back, Ronan,’ and then ducked back inside.
The fringe lamely raised his hand, then let it drop to his side. He palmed the crown of his head. ‘I didn’t even know that was possible.’
Dominic crossed his arms. ‘Don’t ask. I have no intention of ever doing that again.’
Ronan snorted and lost his blank expression. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. Nobility is the last thing I want.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yeah.’ He jerked his thumb at his chest. ‘I’m the bloody new king of the fringe.’
Ronan was too brash to lead anything more than a parade. Dominic didn’t like the idea of him in charge of a good portion of his workforce and customer base. He cocked one eyebrow. ‘I wasn’t aware the fringe had a king.’
Ronan grinned. ‘They do now.’
Chapter Twenty-five
Tatiana paced anxiously. Patience was not one of her virtues. Two days was enough time to get to Corvinestri, gather more Nothos, and return. She wanted Nasir back so she could send her new Nothos out, then begin Octavian’s transformation. Her plan was perfection. She’d already set the stage, had all her props in place. The thought of what Octavian might become, of how much better he would be, how endlessly loyal … She laughed at her own cunning.
But until that happened, she needed the shifter girl alive. Not that Tatiana had any desire to take the guise of Mia upon herself again. Rot it all, but if that were her life, she’d have walked into the sun ages ago. Bartender. How humiliating.
Outside, a car door slammed. Then another. At last.
She hurried to the great room and stopped at the sight of the vampire standing there. She bowed to allow herself a moment to cleanse the rage from her expression. This was not part of her plan. ‘Lord Ivan, I did not expect you.’
‘Didn’t you?’ A faint bruising marked his left eye and cheek. Only a blow from one of the Castus could mark a vampire of Ivan’s age. ‘How long was I supposed to wait for you to make things right? The ancient ones are not pleased and neither am I.’
Nasir strolled in behind Ivan. Octavian followed next, his arms laden with bags. He shot her an apologetic look. As if there were something he could have done to keep Lord Ivan from coming. Denying that blighty ratbag could mean death for a kine like Octavian. But that would all change very soon.
She nodded, but inside, acid boiled in her belly. ‘I am on the verge of setting things right. I just needed a few more Nothos.’
He stalked closer. ‘How exactly did you go through a dozen of them?’
‘I’m not sure. They just never returned.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘This kind of incompetence is unbecoming, Tatiana.’
‘Incompetence?’ Some of the acid erupted. ‘Should I have babysat them? Held their ugly little hands until they got the job done right? We use Nothos because they normally accomplish the tasks they are sent to do without supervision.’