He got lower, out of the sight line, and listened.
“See anything?” A male voice he didn’t recognize.
“No.” That low growl was unmistakable. Doc. “But I smell something.”
Damn it. He hadn’t counted on Doc being here. Maybe Doc could live. After all he’d done to keep Fi off Mal’s back, he deserved that much.
Finally the door shut. The lights, however, stayed on. He crept to the peak of the guesthouse and looked over. No one had stayed outside to guard the house so he started moving again, this time toward the opposite edge of the roof. From there, he’d drop to the ground, being careful to stay on the path so he wouldn’t trip the sensors hidden under the sod. Then he’d climb the building to the second-story balcony, wrench open the French doors into Chrysabelle’s bedroom, and drink until there was nothing left to swallow.
Chrysabelle looked at the fae numbers written over the bars and nodded to Fi. “The numbers match what’s on the paper. That’s the raptor’s cell.”
“Where is it?” Fi whispered, peering into the cell’s dark interior.
“It must be back in the shadows.” The cell seemed empty, except… was that crying? Coming from inside?
“Raptor,” she called quietly. “Come out where I can see you. It’s Chrysabelle. The comarre whose gold you read.”
The crying stopped, replaced by shuffling. The raptor hobbled into view, his enormous form outlined in the soft glowing light of the numbers over his cage. Smooth, murky green skin covered a shape that reminded her of the Nothos. Except for the lack of eyes. All the raptor had was a slanted forehead. He flared his wide, slit nostrils. “Comarre,” it whispered, “is that really you or do I dream again?”
Fi gave Chrysabelle a look and circled her finger beside her head.
“It’s me, raptor.” Despite the creature’s missing eyes she remembered very well that it didn’t prevent him from understanding what was happening around him. With that in mind, she slowly pulled one sacre from its sheath.
The raptor reached through the bars, his long, narrow fingers uncurling toward her. “You’ve come to me. My love.”
This time Chrysabelle returned Fi’s look.
Fi shook her head.
Chrysabelle kept her voice to a whisper. “Stay on the path until I need you to let me out.” Then she took a step toward the raptor. The smell of bleach wafted off the creature.
“Yes,” he murmured, flexing his fingers. “Come closer, my dream.”
She did, but only one more step. She was close enough now to see fully into the cell. There wasn’t much room in there to swing her sacre. This was going to have to be a decisive strike. If the raptor had a chance to fight back, she’d have no defensible position. No place to hide.
He opened his mouth, flicked out a three-pronged black tongue from between multiple rows of teeth. An image of the Claustrum’s entrance flashed in her head. He tasted the air in her direction. “Why have you waited so long to come to me?” he whined.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”
“Psst,” Fi hissed. “Psst!”
Chrysabelle answered Fi without turning around. “What?”
“It loves you,” Fi whispered loudly.
“Of course I love her,” the raptor raged. He grabbed the bars and shook them, making them creak. “Why do you torment me this way?”
Farther down the corridor, other inmates howled in response.
“Shh, I’m here now. I’m here.” She hadn’t expected to have to mollify the creature she was about to kill. Holy mother, how was she supposed to kill a creature that loved her? Maybe she could persuade him to let Mal’s emotion go? Trade some of her emotions for those of Mal’s? She’d have to get the raptor to agree ahead of time as to what he’d take. “I’m going to come into your cell now. Is that all right?”
With a whimper the raptor sank onto his haunches and nodded his head. “Yes, yes, yes.”
She shot Fi a look, then headed in, keeping a firm grip on her sacre. The cell door clanged softly behind her, a sound she never hoped to hear again. “Raptor, I am here to ask you a favor.”
“Anything, anything.” He was trembling now.
“Do you remember the vampire that was with me?”
He nodded, fingers waving in her direction but not coming any closer. “Darkness that one. All darkness.”
“No, he’s not. Or at least he wasn’t. Not until you stole his emotions.”
The raptor snorted, nostrils flaring again. “My payment.” He pounded his fist against his chest. “My due.”
“Yes, payment was owed to you, but you could have taken something else.” That seemed to calm him, but she wasn’t sure. Without eyes, he was hard to read.
“What else?” he asked.
“If I let you take emotions from me, would you let the vampire’s go?”
The raptor slumped lower and covered his head with his long fingers. Minutes ticked by. Minutes they didn’t have.
“Raptor? Will you do it?”
Lifting his head, he nodded. “Will do. For my love.”
“You may only take my anger.”
He sighed. “Not a fair trade.”
“Please.”
He went very still. “You say please to me?”
“Yes.”
He inhaled, but it sounded like a sob. Then he reached out his hand. “Must touch.”
“You agree to the trade? Anger for love.”
“Yes.” His fingers stretched closer. “My love’s anger for the dark one’s love.”
She stuck her hand out.
His fingers wrapped her wrist. Suddenly, he let go of her, jerking back like he’d been shocked. “No,” he howled. “You are ruined by his blood. His child.” The raptor lurched to his feet, baring his teeth and hissing like a cat. “Ruined.”
She backed up. “We had a deal.”
“Chrysabelle!” Panic rang in Fi’s voice.
“No deal, vampire whore.” The raptor swiped at her.
She ducked, but he caught the side of her head. Blood trickled into her eye. She was vaguely aware of the surrounding noise level rising. He came at her again. This time she was ready. She dodged his punch and kicked his side, spinning him against the bars. He crashed into the stone wall and ricocheted off, falling forward. She jumped onto his back, both hands clenching the hilt of her sacre. Thrusting down with all her strength, she buried the blade in his back.
His long head jerked back, his mouth open to scream, but nothing came out but a gasp. Blood spurted up around her sword, and then he went limp. The raptor seemed to deflate, shrinking in size as she jumped to the ground.
The rest of the Claustrum began to wail. That had better mean the emotions he’d stolen were free again. They had to get back to Augustine now. She put her foot on the raptor’s back and yanked her sacre out. “No one calls me a whore.”
A quick tug and the knob of the French door came off in Mal’s hand. He pushed the door open, hoping he’d get lucky and find Chrysabelle in bed. He didn’t. But the scent of comarre blood was strong downstairs.
