This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do. Share Chrysabelle’s business with the KM. It was that kind of garbage that got her so upset. He got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a protein bar out of his lean pantry. “Because of what’s going on between Mal and the comarre. He’s lost the ability to love her temporarily and it’s made him… angry. To keep him from striking out, she’s gotten Dominic to keep Mal sedated until she can heal him.”
Annika stared at him long enough to make him uncomfortable. She now knew he’d kept information back from her. What she’d do with his subordination remained to be seen. “This is why you didn’t kill the Paole.”
He nodded.
“And this situation with Mal, when will that be resolved?”
He knew Chrysabelle was working on it, but what did that mean in real time? “I don’t know, but soon.”
“Creek, Malkolm is the most dangerous vampire in this city. You know his past. He was a terror. He’s responsible for more human deaths than any other vampire we have record of. If he’s gone back to that?” She stood and tugged her leathers into place, an air of reluctance around her unlike anything he’d seen before. “The comarre has forty-eight hours to return things to the status quo. If Mal still needs to be sedated by then… there is nothing I can do.” Her mouth thinned to a hard line. “You will be ordered to eliminate him. No judgment calls allowed.”
Loudreux’s refusal to see her came as no surprise to Chrysabelle. She slammed the car door as she got back in. “I told you.”
Augustine lounged in the passenger’s seat beside her. “Still worth a shot.”
Jerem started the car. Fi twisted around from the front seat to face Augustine. “That means you’ll help us, right?”
His chin jutted forward and he turned to look out the window. “You’ve got to understand, I’m not exactly high on the Best Liked Fae in the City list already. A move like this would really put me in a tough spot.”
Jerem grunted softly from behind the wheel. Chrysabelle understood. She was frustrated too. And despite what Mortalis had said, she was about to try something she probably shouldn’t. Nothing left to lose, anyway. “That’s pretty much how your brother said you’d react. He said you were lazy. What was that he called you?” She tipped her head like she was trying to remember. “
Augustine sat up straight, anger creasing his brow. “You tell Mortalis that he can shove one of his horns right up his—”
Fi snorted. “You don’t like your brother very much, do you? What’s up with that?”
Augustine’s green-gray eyes darkened like a storm cloud. “He’s been the source of a lot of misery in my life.”
“Like what?” Fi asked.
Jerem laughed. Fi sure didn’t give up easy.
Augustine took a deep breath and sat back like he was trying to calm himself. Then he arched like a cat in the sun and a languid smile spread across his face as he answered her. “Anyone ever tell you you remind them of a young Olivia Goodwin? She was a real looker back in the day.” He shook his head and made a “mmm-mmm” sound. “They say there wasn’t a mortal man alive who could refuse her charms.”
Fi’s mouth opened a little. “No, I, uh, no one’s ever, I mean, no.”
He continued. “ ’Course Livie had an unfair advantage with those couple percentage points of fae blood running in her veins.” He lifted his chin at Fi, his lids suddenly too heavy to keep wide open. “You got any fae in you, pretty thing?”
She shook her head slowly, her gaze never leaving him.
His smile crooked up a little higher on one side. “You want some?”
“That’s a married woman you’re talking to,” Chrysabelle told him. “And her husband’s the leader of the Paradise City pride, so unless you want two hundred and some pounds of leopard hunting you through the streets of New Orleans, you should probably save your flirting for a woman who’s actually available.”
Fi swallowed. “Yeah.” She twisted around to face the windshield, but the color in her cheeks was undeniable.
Augustine shrugged, clearly unrepentant. “No harm in talking.”
“That’s all you do, isn’t it? Talk?” She huffed out a breath. “Jerem, how soon can we drop Augustine off?”
“We’ll be there in a few more minutes.”
She stared out the window at the beautiful, charmed homes lining the streets and spoke softly to herself. “I should have known Mortalis would be right. He always is. He said there’d be no help here, and sure enough —”
“All right,” Augustine said. “I get it. You’re trying to spin me up, make me prove my brother was wrong. Well you know what? He wasn’t. I’m everything he said I was and more.”
She looked at him, using whatever comarre charm she could muster. If that would even work on him. “You could change that. Just help me. Do this one thing and he can’t say he knows what you’re like anymore.” She rested one hand on her belly. “Please. I don’t want my child to grow up without a father.”
“I had one. Occasionally. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
Chrysabelle stared at him. “I guess that explains it.”
He stared back. “Explains what?”
Chrysabelle raised her brows. “Why you don’t know how to be a man when the situation calls for it.”
“Oh, burn,” Fi whispered.
Augustine’s scowl melted into something close to pain. He closed his eyes, tipped his head against the back of the seat, and bounced it off the headrest. “I know how to be a man. My father didn’t. But I do.”
Chrysabelle’s insides went soft with hope. “Does that mean you’re going to help me?”
“Damn it. Yes.” He kept his eyes closed. “Make sure you tell Mortalis how wrong he was.”
“I will.” She wanted to grab him and hug him. Instead she smiled calmly. “Thank you.”
He opened his eyes and slanted them at her. “Don’t thank me until it’s over.”
She nodded, but inside she was ecstatic. And nervous enough to faint. “What do we need to do? Do you have time to stop by the hotel? I need my sacres. Those are comarre swords.” Now she was just babbling. She shut her mouth.
“I know what sacres are. And yes, the hotel’s fine. We can do it there. I don’t want any of this traceable back to Livie.” He sighed like he couldn’t believe what he’d agreed to.
“I wouldn’t want that either.” She leaned forward and put her hand on Jerem’s shoulder. “To the hotel.”
He flipped on the signal to turn around. “Got it.”
Chrysabelle sat back. “How soon can we do this?”
“Best time to pull a human through to the fae plane is twilight. Things get… thinner then.” He studied her, all traces of his blithe attitude gone. The serious lines of his face spoke of pain and experiences beyond anything she could imagine. What had happened in his life? With his father? Between him and Mortalis? “I will take you to the entrance, but you’re on your own from there.”
“I’m going with her,” Fi announced.
“Suit yourself.” He cracked his head to one side. “You’ll have an hour to do what you need to do. More than that and things get sticky. Getting you out gets harder the longer you’re there. And trust me, you do
“What’s it like?” Fi asked.
He stayed quiet for a breath. “It’s where the fae keep those of our own kind too horrible to be free.” He smiled, but there was no charm in it. “It’s where we keep the things that scare
Chapter Twenty-two
Son of a priest.” Mal rubbed his throbbing head, wondering how much of it was from Creek’s drugs and how
