“Your plan for us to rule together.” Lilith smiled. “Isn’t that what you wanted, Mother?”
Tatiana forced herself to return the smile, but wasn’t sure if the movement of her lips was a smile or a grimace. She hurt too much to care. “Yes,” she whispered. The effort of speaking under the weight of such pain was almost impossible. “That’s what I wanted.” She looked for a way out and found her savior in the lightening horizon. “The sun is almost up and I need to sleep.” She stumbled toward the door. “You return to the ancients now and I’ll call you when I need you again.”
The happiness in Lilith’s voice faded. “Why can’t I stay with you?”
Nerves frayed, Tatiana snapped. Enough was bloody enough. “Because I said so and I’m your mother. Now go.”
“Fine.” With a huff, Lilith crossed her arms and disappeared in a small whirl of shadow.
Alone, Tatiana reached for the door handle, but missed, her vision blurry. Frustration and grief engulfed her. “Daci,” she moaned. The sound of her friend’s name sheared away the last of her composure. Unable to bear more, she crumpled to the floor and wept.
Chapter Fifteen
Creek was prepared for Chrysabelle to have blocked his entrance to Mephisto Island, but the guard at the gatehouse let him through. He didn’t know what to make of the fact that she hadn’t pulled him from the approved visitors list, but decided not to overthink it. He parked his V-Rod and jogged to the front door, glad for the chance to speak to her. The way they’d left things hadn’t been good. He owed her an apology and an explanation.
Velimai answered his knock, giving him the same surly look she’d once reserved for Mal. Maybe the wysper still blamed him for Mal’s death. Or Chrysabelle’s unhappiness. Or the lack of world peace. “Chrysabelle here? I came to apologize, not cause her more trouble. Those days are over.”
Velimai raised a brow.
Creek held his hands up. “I promise.”
With a sigh, she moved out of the way. He followed her inside. A silver hard-shell roller bag sat by the door. She pointed to the living room, so he went and sat. She gave him a look that said
A few minutes later, Damian came down. Creek stood, wondering how the man would respond to him based on his sister’s feelings toward Creek at the moment. “Good to see you back.” He nodded toward the roller bag. “You finally moving in?”
“Good to see you too. That’s Chrysabelle’s bag.” Damian stopped at the entrance to the living room. “She’s upstairs and she told me to tell you she’s not coming down if this is Kubai Mata business.” He lifted one shoulder like he was sorry to be the bearer of bad news.
So much for convincing Velimai of his intentions. “It’s not. I’m just here as me. I owe her some explanations and an apology.”
If that surprised Damian, he hid it well. “Okay.” He jogged back up the steps, returning a few minutes later with Chrysabelle in tow.
She eyed Creek warily, tugging at her tunic and smoothing a few loose hairs back into her braid. She was flushed and shiny with sweat.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your workout.”
She shrugged and wiped her face with the towel around her neck before sitting across from him. “Damian said you’re not here on KM business. That’s the only reason I’m talking to you.”
Creek sat. “I know. Thanks.”
Damian walked toward the door. “I’ll see you for dinner, Chrys.”
She sat forward. “Don’t go yet. Join us.”
He glanced at Creek before answering her. “You got it.” He took one of the club chairs at the end of the two big sofas, settling in like he was preparing to referee.
She turned her attention to Creek. “So what’s going on?”
“A lot.” He blew out a breath. “Not sure where to start, so I’ll just dive in. I’m sorry for my part in Mal’s death. I found out too late that I was possessed by a dark spirit, one who’s since been… exorcised. She was also behind my persuading the mayor to set the curfew in place and the reason I sided against you and Mal in the mayor’s office. For all of that, I’m sorry.”
Chrysabelle’s hard expression softened. “A spirit?”
“Yahla, the soulless woman. Damian and I set her free when we burned Aliza’s house down. Apparently, Aliza had trapped her in the house and was using her as a source of power. Yahla attacked my grandmother too. Would have killed her if I hadn’t gotten there in time.” He dropped his head. He wasn’t great at expressing emotion, but for Chrysabelle’s sake he’d do his best. “I’m sorry I didn’t figure this all out in time to save Mal. I know his death is my fault and I feel like hell about that.”
A few seconds of silence passed before Chrysabelle spoke. “Mal’s not dead.”
Creek lifted his head, not sure he’d really heard what she’d said. “What? How?”
“When he drank from me, his full strength returned and he was able to scatter again. Except when he scatters, he turns to smoke. He escaped into one of the storm drains with a few burns.”
Creek sat back, a little angry but mostly relieved. “Thanks for letting me think he was dead.”
“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t exactly on our side.”
He nodded. “You’re right. I probably wouldn’t have told me either.”
“Is your grandmother all right?”
“Yes. Thank you.” He rubbed a hand over his Mohawk. “Speaking of not being dead, Octavian’s in town. He’s come to work for the KM here since he can’t be of use in Corvinestri anymore.”
Damian tensed. “What the hell? That bastard works for you guys? Does the KM know he used to beat me whenever Tatiana told him to?”
Chrysabelle shot her brother a pained look. “You never told me that.”
“What was the point? I thought he was dead. But now…” Damian turned back to Creek, jabbing a finger in the air. “You tell him to stay out of my path. I’m not under Tatiana’s thumb anymore, and KM or not, he’s going to pay for what he did to me.”
Creek nodded. “I hear you. Right now, he’s working with the mayor, helping us keep tabs on her, so he’s got no reason to contact you.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll be perfectly honest; I have my doubts about him but I’m still KM and those doubts are strictly off the record.” Damian’s info only added to those reservations. “On the record, I’m sure he only did what he had to in order to keep Tatiana from being suspicious.”
“I saw the pictures,” Chrysabelle said. “What he did to Damian was above and beyond necessary.”
Damian snorted, but otherwise kept quiet.
“I’m keeping as close a watch on him as I can,” Creek said.
Chrysabelle inched toward the edge of the sofa. “Anything else?”
Before answering her, Creek glanced at Damian. He seemed lost in thought. “Just that… I’d like us to be friends again. If that’s possible. I don’t plan on being KM longer than I have to, but right now, quitting’s not an option. I promise that if there’s anything I can do to help you, I will. I feel like I owe you that much.”
She nodded. “I appreciate that. That probably wasn’t easy for you to say.”
He shrugged. “Doing the right thing isn’t always easy, but it’s still the right thing.”
She stared at him then, a strange, almost sad expression on her face. She smiled, but it too seemed sad. He felt like he should understand more about the way she was looking at him than he did. “Thank you.” Her quiet answer did nothing to ease the sense he was missing something important.
“Something you want to tell me about?”
A quick shake of her head and whatever had been bothering her was gone. “No. Everything’s fine.”
She was a bad liar, but he understood whatever was on her mind wasn’t something she was ready to talk about. “Okay, well, you know how to reach me if you need me.” He got up to leave.
“Creek?”
He stopped and waited.
