Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) by Painter, Kristen (best books for 20 year olds .txt) 📕

The name bit the tip of his tongue with a serpent’s venom, so he spat it out.

‘Tatiana.’

Chapter Nineteen

Weak knocking roused Dominic. He’d been half awake anyway. He glanced at the clock. Six hours of daysleep. Hardly enough, but these days one took what one could get. He slipped out of bed, pulled a cashmere robe over his silk pajamas, and walked out to the sitting room. ‘Si.’

His manservant, Vertuccio, entered and bowed. ‘My lord, Ms. Tanaka is here to see you.’

‘Si, si. Send her in.’ Too bad Katsumi needed to be questioned. He was definitely arrapato – in the mood – but curse his libido, he had to find out about the letter sent to Chrysabelle and where the blood thusly attained had gone. If Katsumi was guilty, she’d have to be dealt with.

She walked in and all desire drained from his body. ‘Porca vacca, what has happened to you?’

A wreck of a woman stood before him. Katsumi’s makeup was tear-streaked. Her hair, always so sleekly bound, fell to her waist in a disheveled mess. And oddly enough, her skin and clothes bore a random pattern of thin lines of some kind of sticky residue. ‘What has happened? Are you all right?’

‘No.’ Her voice was terribly hoarse. He could have sworn she sniffed. Or perhaps that sound was a sob. Out of Katsumi?

He called Vertuccio back. ‘Bring tea and one of the better comars. Ask Jacqueline if you’re not sure.’

‘Very good, sir.’ Vertuccio went off to do as Dominic had commanded, shutting the sitting room door behind him.

Dominic took the large wingback chair across from the electric fireplace. He missed the smell and sound of a real fire, but for a vampire, real fire could also mean death. He contented himself with the artificial smoke smell and synthesized crackling. ‘So. Explain what has occurred.’

She relayed how she’d been overpowered, bound and gagged with duct tape, and left in the storage room. About the strange metallic limb that had transformed into a noose. How she’d screamed until she’d tasted her own blood. How she’d been sure of her death until Mortalis had found her. She wept softly and Dominic couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Katsumi cry. Ever.

He nodded as she continued, going on to describe her captor. ‘Malkolm believes it was Tatiana.’

‘As do I.’ In fact, he’d expected it. Tatiana hadn’t seemed like the type to forgive and forget. ‘Chrysabelle sliced Tatiana’s hand off during the battle in Corvinestri, but she must have found someone from St. Germain to build her a new one. An adaptable metal hand such as you described could only be the work of an alchemist.’ But to have Maris’s killer here, in his club, in his home … The thought of Tatiana’s presence eroded his nerves until they felt raw and exposed. The killing urge rose up in him, as did a new understanding of what Katsumi had been through. She was fortunate to be alive. ‘I am deeply sorry you were subjected to this.’

A knock on the door interrupted them.

‘Enter.’

Vertuccio came in bearing a tea service on an antique sterling tray. Behind Vertuccio followed one of Seven’s best comars. Vertuccio set the exquisite tray down on the center table and gave a short bow. ‘Anything else, sir?’

‘Yes. I assume Mortalis is already searching the premises for Tatiana. I want a report from him as soon as possible.’

‘Very good, sir.’ Vertuccio backed out, closing the door as he went.

Dominic gestured to the comar. ‘You, sit beside Katsumi.’ Then he waved his hand from Katsumi to the comar. ‘Go on. Feed. You must fortify yourself. Regain your strength.’

She nodded as the comar offered up his wrist. She accepted it, her fangs descended, and with great delicacy, pierced his skin and drank. The comar shuddered with obvious pleasure.

Dominic helped himself to a glass of Brunello while he waited. He would feed soon enough, but until then, the rich, dark red wine was a close substitute for blood. He stared into the fire as he sipped, letting memories of life with Maris wash over him. They had been so happy, so full of joy, even if it had only been for a short season. He ached for her. The chance to see her, to speak to her once more … He sighed into his glass. He could not pass that up.

A few minutes later, Katsumi wiped the corners of her mouth with her knuckle, not that there was anything to wipe away. She had always been one of the most fastidious feeders he’d known. She bobbed her head at him. ‘Thank you. I do feel better.’

‘You may go, grazie.’ Dominic dismissed the comar and poured Katsumi a cup of tea. ‘You’ll be your old self in no time.’

She accepted the tea but didn’t drink. ‘That’s part of what I’d like to talk to you about.’

He raised a brow. ‘Go on.’

She set the cup and saucer down gently, head bent, chest pulled in like a guilty dog before its master. Her words were quiet, although the hoarseness had begun to diminish. ‘I don’t want to be the old me anymore. I’m tired of being fringe. I couldn’t protect myself against that woman because she was noble. She was stronger, more powerful … ’ She sighed deeply, her fingers interlacing tightly. ‘I want you to resire me. I want navitas.’

He’d wondered when she’d make this request. He’d been waiting for it, actually. Humans wanted to be vampires, fringe wanted to be noble, and nobles wanted the power of the ancients. No one was ever satisfied with what they had. He studied her plaintive face, longing bright in her eyes. ‘This is not an easy thing you ask of me.’

‘I know, but—’

‘No, you can’t know.’ He held his hand up. ‘And just because I am noble doesn’t mean I am skilled in this ritual. I have never performed navitas, never