Last Blood
Page 11“The curfew was the mayor’s idea, not his. And he’s been fairly sympathetic to varcolai causes. It’s a relationship we want to maintain.”
“The mayor’s not here, is she?”
He sighed. “No, but the council thinks it would be a good idea to talk with her at some point.”
“Screw that.”
“Fi.” He looked at her, his expression half shock, half amusement. “It’s in the pride’s best interest.”
A stranger walked up to them. “What’s in the pride’s best interest?”
Doc straightened. “Hello, Remo. Our relationship with the mayor, but that’s a conversation for another time.”
Fi tensed. So this was Remo. She didn’t like him just from looking at him.
“Indeed.” Remo smiled at Fi. “You must be Fiona. If I can call you that?” He stuck his hand out. “Call me Remo, please.”
He leaned in, still holding her hand. “I like it very well.” His eyes gleamed. “Very well.”
He was too close, too strange, too… everything. She backed up, pulling her hand out of his. “Glad to hear it. I’m sure you and Doc have a lot to talk about. Council stuff and… okay, I have to go say hi to someone.” She broke away and headed for Barasa.
“Hi,” she breathed, aware she was interrupting, but not caring.
“Hello, Fiona.” Barasa bent his head. “Have you met Chief Vernadetto?”
“No.” She smiled, this time genuinely. Anyone was better than Remo. “Nice to meet you, Chief. Can I call you chief? Is that allowed?”
The stocky man laughed. “Peter is my first name, but you can call me Pete if you like, ma’am. That’s what my friends call me.”
“Whoa. No ‘ma’am’ here. Fiona is just fine, Pete.” Calling the police chief by his first name was kind of strange, but she liked him a little more for it. He seemed like a genuinely nice man.
He nodded. “Fiona it is. Truth is, you remind me of my niece so calling you ‘ma’am’ does feel a little odd.” His smile disappeared and a sudden seriousness took over his face. “Thank you for not holding what happened with your husband or the vampire against me. I was opposed to the curfew and was only following orders.”
Barasa clapped the chief on the back. “Can I leave Fiona in your capable hands? I see someone I need to speak with.”
“Absolutely.” Vernadetto beamed like he’d just been given a prize. He leaned in. “They usually make me watch the dangerous ugly ones. Not often I get the young and pretty.”
Fi’s insides stopped churning and Remo was completely forgotten. “I like you.”
Pete laughed. “I like you too. I hate coming to these things because I always feel so out of place. You don’t make me feel that way, though.” He dug a card out of his jacket and handed it to her. His big fingers swamped the small rectangle. “You ever need anything, you call me, okay?”
She studied the Paradise City seal embossed on the crisp white stock. “Thanks. I will. Having the chief of police on speed dial isn’t such a bad thing.” She tucked it into her evening bag. “So what kind of varcolai are you?”
The color drained from his face. “W-why would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “Most of the people here are, but you, I can’t tell.” She’d made him uncomfortable for some reason and that made her feel bad. “I’m a ghost, you know.”
“I’ve heard.” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m not a, well, that is, I’m…” He sighed. “To be honest, I don’t know what I am. Probably just a few stray bloodlines that got mixed in generations back. Nothing to even talk about.” He smiled, but it was weak and forced. “I’d actually prefer it if that didn’t get around. Being police chief is tough enough without people questioning where my loyalties lie, you know.”
“Yes, you are.” He nodded hard, like he was thrilled to change the subject. “And you know, if there’s anything I can do for you, just name it.”
She smiled and patted his arm. “Thanks, Pete. I’ll remember that.” And she would, because with Remo around, having the police chief on her side might come in handy.
Chapter Six
Nothing. Not a hint of brimstone, not a wisp of shadow or smoke. Samael had ignored Tatiana’s repeated requests for his presence. Requests that had quickly turned into pleas, and after the second hour, had eroded almost to the point of begging.
Tatiana didn’t beg. But for the sake of Lilith… she might. Hands clenched at her sides so tightly that her metal one creaked, she called out to the father of her kind once again. “Samael, liege of darkness, lord of all vampires, I beseech you come to me.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">