Tatiana tightened her grip, causing the doctor to whimper as his bones ground together. “You’re lucky to still be alive, kine.”

Octavian snorted in agreement.

“Yes, my lady.” The doctor nodded, doing his best to get as far away as he could while in her grasp.

A popping sound announced the release of his finger from Lilith’s mouth. Blood trickled from two red pinpoints on the pad of his index finger.

Tatiana released him as well. “Go now while you still can. I want those results immediately.”

The doctor gathered his things with great haste, depositing the vial of blood into his waistcoat pocket. “Of course, my lady.”

Octavian kissed her cheek. “To make sure that’s all he does with her blood, I’ll accompany him back to the lab and stay until the tests are completed.”

She nodded. “A wise decision.”

He took the doctor by the elbow and began to escort him out. “And don’t think I won’t kill you if you make one false move.”

Tatiana curled Lilith into her arms and rested farther back into the divan’s depths, comforted by the knowledge that she was no longer the only one with her child’s best interests at heart.

Everglades, New Florida

Creek notched the kickstand down on his V-Rod and hopped off his bike. The last time he’d been out to his grandmother’s had been in a last-ditch effort to keep Chrysabelle from bleeding out after having her signum stripped off her back. As a tribe healer, his grandmother had known what to do, but Mal hadn’t liked it. Neither had Chrysabelle.

This time, Creek was the one who needed help.

He climbed the steps of the small, wood-paneled house to knock on her door. Not that there was a need to announce himself with Pip around. His grandmother’s fifty-pound mutt barked like the house was on fire anytime a person, vehicle, or gator got within a few yards of the place. “Pip, settle down. Mawmaw, it’s me, Tommy.”

One last bark and the door opened. “Shush, Pip, you’ll wake the dead.” Rosa Mae Jumper peered up at Creek through the thick lenses of her glasses. “I know who it is.” She smiled and held her arms out to him. “Come here, child.”

He gave Pip a quick head rub, then bent to embrace her, inhaling the soft violet scent of the homemade sweet acacia perfume she wore. “How are you, Mawmaw?”

“Just fine.” She let him go only to take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. The aroma of browned meat greeted him, making his stomach grumble. “I’ve got a venison roast in the oven. Sit down and you can eat supper with me.”

“A whole roast? I thought Mom was still on night shift.” The table was set for two. “You and Pip eating formal tonight?”

Without looking at him, she tsked. “Foolish boy, that setting’s for you. I knew you were coming. Don’t I always?”

Yes, she did. He smiled and took a seat at the kitchen table while she went to the oven. Mawmaw knew all kinds of things that most people never had a clue about. He hadn’t planned on eating here, but she’d be more amenable if he did. Plus, eating her cooking was no hardship after his years of prison food. Damn, he was glad the KM had gotten him out of there, even if they did hold it over his head like a thousand-pound weight.

While they ate, he got her to tell stories from his childhood and managed to keep the conversation to lighter topics, but the way she looked at him said she wasn’t that easily fooled. At last she cleared the plates, set a pan of scraps down for Pip, and motioned for Creek to join her on the back porch. He took the rocker next to her, the paint worn off the seat and arms from use. She lit a cigarette and offered him one.

He shook his head. “Those’ll kill you, you know.”

She inhaled long and slow before letting out three perfect smoke rings. “So will those damned blood eaters you chase after.”

He laughed softly. No hiding anything from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure you don’t. Just like I don’t feel the air of power coming off you.” She took another puff. “Nice of you to visit.”

In other words, get on with it. “I need your help, Mawmaw.”

“You tired of working for those people?”

He shifted. The way his grandmother sensed things… “Those people got me out of jail. Paid Una’s tuition.” Kept his sister, Mawmaw, and his mother safe, too.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He sighed and watched a red hawk float on a thermal. “Sometimes, yes, I am bone-tired of working for them, but a deal’s a deal.”

“Uh-huh.”

Time to change the subject. “I need a charm made.”

Pip came out licking his chops and flopped at Mawmaw’s feet with a contented sigh. She stared out at the swamp that made up her backyard. “What kind of charm?”

He dug into his shirt pocket, extracted the three black feathers he’d been given, and held them out to her. “This kind.”

Pip lifted his head and gave a short, growling bark.

Rosa stopped rocking. The ash on her cigarette grew a little longer while she studied his offering. At last, she tapped the ash off and set the cigarette into a coffee cup filled with a little sand. “I don’t know what all you’re involved with these days, Thomas, but that’s nothing for you to play with.”

“I’m not playing. I need the protection.”

“You need to leave that woman alone.”




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