Out for Blood by Kristen Painter Read Free Book Online

help you with?”
    “I need blood. From one of your comarrés.” Damnation, it pained him to say those words.
    Dominic went back behind his desk and sat. “I would be happy to do this for you, except…” He stared at Mal expectantly, and when Mal didn’t say anything, he finished, “What about Chrysabelle?”
    And there it was. The question he’d known would be asked. Mal sat, buying a little time to form an answer. “She’s still recovering. I don’t want to bother her.”
    Dominic lifted his brows. “That hasn’t stopped you—or her—from the exchange in the past.” He shrugged and lifted his hands. “I don’t want to do something that might upset her. You know she’s like family to me.” He leaned toward Luciano. “She’s Maris’s daughter, the comarré I spoke of earlier.”
    “Marissa? Si .” Luciano nodded.
    What Mal knew was that Dominic wasn’t going to let it drop until he got a better answer. “I need to put some distance between us. Her wishes.”
    “Ah.” Dominic absently tapped his fingers on the desk. “She is just like her mother, that one.” His hand went still. “Any time you need blood, you have only to come to me. As I’m sure you would extend yourself to me, should I need anything.”
    So a favor for a favor. Fine. He should have known Dominic wouldn’t give without getting something in exchange. Mal had no desire to return to pig’s blood. “Haven’t I proven that in the past?”
    “You have.” Dominic pressed the intercom on his desk. “Send one of the best comarré up.”
    “Yes, sir,” a female voice answered.
    Mal shifted. He hadn’t wanted to do this with an audience, but neither did he want to be alone with a human with an open vein. Chrysabelle could fight him off. One of Dominic’s comarrés could not.
    “Do you wish privacy?” Dominic asked.
    “No.” He forced himself to relax.
    “Please.” Dominic held his hand toward a secluded corner of his office that held a chair, low table, and love seat. “I don’t care to be watched while I dine either.”
    Without further argument, Mal got up and went to the seating area. A few minutes later, someone knocked.
    “Come,” Dominic called.
    The door opened. “You sent for me, master?”
    Son of a priest. Of all the comarré Dominic had, Alice was the one who got sent up?
    “Yes,” Dominic answered. He pulled a knife from a desk drawer and held it out to her. “Take this, get a glass from the bar, then fill it for my guest there.” He gestured toward Mal. She didn’t look, but Luciano watched with interest.
    With a hesitant movement, she accepted the dagger. “May I ask why, master?”
    Bloody hell. Mal growled softly, causing her to turn. “Because I can’t drink from the vein.”
    “You,” she whispered. A flash of anger passed over her face, quickly disappearing into a mask of obedience. “As you wish.”
    “Do you know each other?” Dominic asked.
    “No,” Alice said.
    “Yes.” Mal crossed his ankle over the opposite knee and leaned back. “I tried to use my powers of persuasion on her in the club. She didn’t care for it.”
    Dominic laughed. “I’m sure she explained that my comarré are warded against that. Trying to get a replacement for Chrysabelle?”
    “Something like that.” Mal held eye contact with Alice, challenging her to say otherwise. Tired of the games, he pointed to the chair next to him. “Sit.”
    She did as he asked, setting the glass on the low table. “Now what?”
    “Nick your vein and hold it over the glass.” How simple was she?
    “Why not just bite me? It’s so much simpler.”
    “I told you I can’t drink from the vein.” Can and should.
    Indignation rolled off her in waves. “Do you think I’m not worthy?”
    Every muscle in his body tensed. He reminded himself he’d thought this a good idea. “I do not drink from the vein.”
    “Alice,” Dominic barked. “Do as he asks without question. Do not make me speak to Katsumi about your