Bad Blood by Kristen Painter Read Free Book Online Page B

at the carved, gilded legs of his desk. She had no desire to add to her household, especially not twocomarré who would remind her every day of her past and what had been stripped from her, but neither did she wish to get on Dominic’s bad side. She sighed slowly. “I’m still recovering, you know.”

    He clutched at his long-dead heart. “
Bella
, I would do nothing I thought might hinder you returning to full health. They will be quiet as mice.”

    “They can move in on three conditions. One, I want to meet with the signumist tonight. Two, I want you or Mortalis to move them in—no one else comes onto the property. And three, I don’t want to see them. Not right now. Make sure they know that. My hospitality is not to be mistaken for an invitation to be friends.”

    “Perhaps you are more stubborn than your mother.” He nodded, fingers steepled against his chin. “Agreed. It will be done.” He pressed a button on a small silver device resting on his desktop. “I’ll have Mortalis take you to the signumist. That doesn’t mean I support what you’re doing.”

    “Understood. Thank you.”

    A few moments later, Mortalis entered. “Chrysabelle, good to see you up and about. Mal.” He nodded in greeting before addressing Dominic. “You need me?”

    “Take Chrysabelle to Atticus.”

    His brows lifted a centimeter or two, but it was his only reaction. He turned to her, gesturing toward the door. “Follow me.”

    The throbbing woke Creek. It radiated from his shoulder into the rest of his body like a raging infection, cutting through the fog of medication in his blood.

    “You’re awake. Good.”

    He opened his eyes but knew who’d spoken just by the scent of wolf filling his nose. He blinked as the green-walled room and the man standing over him came into focus. “Shouldn’t you be guarding the mayor?”

    “That’s being taken care of. Right now, you’re her first priority. Anything you know about what happened to her daughter matters most.” LED panels on the ceiling framed the varcolai in bright white light. He leaned closer, still wearing the dark shades. “How are you not dead? Your wounds would have killed most mortals.”

    Creek ignored the question. Judging from the black sky visible through the blinds, it was either a few hours later or the next night. “How did I end up in the hospital?”

    He pushed to a sitting position, testing the muscles in his ruined shoulder. Fresh pain cramped his body, and his bones felt on the verge of shattering. Nothos poison was a Swedish massage compared to the bite of the Castus Sanguis. Not that he really knew. Like all KM, he’d been sealed against Nothos venom.

    A second later, a headrush nearly laid him down again. He rubbed the back of his head to buy some time. How much blood had he lost? Speaking of lost… he scanned the room as the dizziness abated. No sign of his halm. Argent wasn’t going to be happy about a second lost weapon in less than two weeks, but then, his sector chief was rarely happy about anything.

    “I secured the mayor in her vehicle, then followed you. By the time I found you in the alley, you were a bloody, pulpy mess. I figured you’d be out more than just a few hours.”

    So it wasn’t the next night. “You should have seen the other guy.”

    The joke was lost on the varcolai. “I didn’t. What was it?”

    “Don’t worry about it.” Creek pulled the tape off the IV in his hand and slid the needle out. Time to go before he had to explain to a doctor why his blood was a few degrees off normal and his body regenerated at a nonhuman rate.

    The varcolai’s beefy paw came down on his wrist. “I don’t think you’re showing the proper appreciation. If not for me, you’d have bled out in that alley.”

    “Not a chance.” Creek squinted and stared into the shifter’s dark shades. If eyes were the windows to the soul, this guy’s soul must really need hiding. “I would have been fine. Been through