For Love and Blood and Fury (Lilith’s Legacy #1)

Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-Four

“Back here?” Zuri asked after they’d toured the downtown condo. She’d refused to give Elena an answer about where she wanted to stay. As if that was going to make Elena let her go. There was no way she was letting either of them out of her sight. No way she’d entrust their safety to anyone else. No way she’d leave them to fend for themselves after inadvertently putting them in danger. It was bad enough that she’d even let them go home without her. Elena wouldn’t make the mistake again.

“After what happened?” Zuri added, as if Elena hadn’t understood her meaning.

They stood in front of the port-side building, the seat of Elena’s power. After tonight, there was no way anyone would question that she still commanded authority. Not when she was going to disabuse anyone of the notion that she’d hid after an unprecedented attack. There wasn’t a soul alive she was afraid of, and she was happy to remind anyone who’d turned forgetful.

The building was closed to the public for the time being and she hoped every vampire in her territory would show up when they heard she was back. She imagined the traitors among her guests, hoping they would be stupid enough to step foot in her place. She was ready for their next clumsy move. Surprise would only be on the cowards’ side once.

“What is this place?” Marisol asked, gorgeous hazel eyes green and gold against her dark makeup.

Elena stepped out of the backseat first and then offered her hand. “Home.”

“If I die,” Zuri said when she joined them to walk toward the converted warehouse, “you know I’m going to haunt you for all eternity. Not a second of fucking peace, you hear me?”

“Die?” Marisol repeated, fear suddenly oozing from her big eyes.

“This is where she was attacked.” Zuri glanced toward the alley next to the high-rise still under construction.

Elena gritted her teeth, anger rushing up from her belly and curling her fingers into fists. She refused to let the memories form. “And I will tear limb from limb whoever is crazy enough to even look at you wrong,” she vowed.

The horror in Marisol’s eyes only grew. Did she not know how far Elena would go for her? That she would absolutely kill for her?

“Maybe, um—” Marisol’s voice trembled.

Moving so she was standing between them, Elena took both of their hands in hers. “Trust me.”

“Famous last words,” Zuri muttered, but despite her protest, she intertwined their fingers. Energy giving her away, Zuri wasn’t afraid like Marisol was. She was angry. The rage bubbling beneath her skin matched the tightness in Elena’s chest. If the cowards came knocking, they were going to regret having been born. Hell hadn’t met fury like a pissed-off Zuri.

A closed for private event sign informed uninvited humans that they were no longer welcome. If they were still unclear, the two suited men on either side of the door would make the message unmistakable.

Doors opening for them as they approached, Elena jutted her chin in the air and made a show of strolling in with Zuri and Marisol on either side of her. The moment they stepped inside, the air thrummed with a familiar energy.

A symphony of hushed whispers, the clinking of glasses, the pulsing rhythm of music weaving through the dimly lit space. She was home.

Across the room, she spotted Diego. Her head of blood trading was speaking with a group of vampires. His posture relaxed but his gaze sharp and watchful. She would have been suspicious if he wasn’t in attendance.

When she started for him, Zuri let go of her hand and reached for Marisol instead. Elena should have guessed that she’d know business was underway, but their old rhythm gave her a thrill nonetheless.

She watched them walk to the bar in the back. Watched a nervous Marisol cling to Zuri. They weren’t the only non-vampires there, but she wasn’t sure that knowledge would put Marisol at ease.

“I’d say you get used to this shit,” Zuri whispered into Marisol’s ear. Elena could hear her voice from a mile away. “But you won’t.”

Where the crowd was thicker near the bar, Zuri moved Marisol to walk in front of her, hand protectively at her back. Before she could allow herself to become distracted, Elena gestured at Sofia to keep watch over them. Librada already knew where to be and went upstairs to survey the space.

As Elena approached Diego, the group dispersed in open deference. Good.

Diego turned. “Elena.” He tipped his head in a small bow. “You’re back.”

“Obviously,” she replied, voice cool and measured. She met his gaze, her own sharp and assessing. Diego was loyal, she knew that. But loyalty could be bought, could be swayed, could be broken.

“Everything is as you left it,” Diego said, his gaze avoiding hers after a respectful amount of eye contact. He didn’t dare ask about the attack, about her injuries, about the week she’d been missing. He knew better. Elena appreciated his discretion, but it also made her suspicious. Was he hiding something? Was he involved?

“Good,” she said, her voice clipped while she scrutinized him. Zuri was wrong about Librada and Sofia, but she couldn’t discount the possibility that one of her underlings had deluded themselves into thinking they could take her on. Knock her off the top and take her place. “I expect a full report. Later.”

Diego nodded, his throat bobbing when he swallowed too hard. “Of course. The only change of note is a dip in the supply of earth witch blood. We had a power failure in the storage facility. Not all vials could be saved.”

Elena pinned him down with her gaze. “And who fucked that up?”

He opened his mouth, but apparently thought better of the excuse he was about to spout. “The ultimate responsibility must be mine,” he said, gaze cutting to the floor.

Responding with a guttural sound in her throat, Elena made her disappointment clear. She didn’t really care about a few lost vials, but that wasn’t the point. “And yet you’re here. Drinking my wine.”

Without looking at her again, he slinked toward the door. Elena turned away, her gaze sweeping the room, searching for any sign of unease, any flicker of betrayal.

The vampires, gathered in small groups, their conversations hushed and movements cautious, seemed to sense her scrutiny. They averted their gazes, but beneath the surface, Elena could feel the currents of curiosity, of speculation, of doubt.

She pushed the unease aside and made her way towards the bar. Zuri and Marisol were standing near the edge of the crowd, their bodies close. Just the sight of them loosened the tension in her chest, made it easier to breathe.

“Elena,” Sofia said from behind her, stopping her advance. “Narine has sent word that she cannot attend tonight.”

Furrowing her brow, Elena didn’t hide her surprise. Narine wasn’t her blood daughter, but she’d lost her true mother shortly after she was turned. Elena had adopted her.

When Narine wanted to build a little something of her own, Elena had done the unprecedented and granted her St. Augustine. It was a small enclave of fewer than a hundred vampires and significantly more witches, but it was hers and Elena had ceded it despite objections from her inner circle.

Can’t attend? She’d expected Narine to rush to her side. To be part of her show of strength. Unless she doubted Elena could protect her? Perhaps she feared that her microscopic cartel could suffer collateral damage from Elena’s usurpers. If Narine’s belief in her was wavering, she had more to shore up than she calculated.

“But that’s not the urgent?—”

“What is it?” Elena snapped, frustrated and annoyed.

“One of our scouts has heard murmurings of a male nest. But the sighting was deep in some swamp on the Florida-Georgia border.”

“A male nest? How can that be?” Elena shook her head.

There was no such thing. Males were soldiers, but there was always a female head. A female vampire to follow. They might not all be her progeny, but they were under her control. And in her territory, every nest was hers.

Sofia nodded, hazel eyes keen and always moving. Always aware of her surroundings. “As far as we can tell. There’s no sign of females.”

“She must be well hidden,” Elena decided.

If she were plotting an overthrow, remaining undetected until the violent end would be a possible strategy. One she’d immediately discard because subterfuge was for pussies.

“Go,” Elena commanded, her voice laced with urgency. “Now. Find out everything you can. Who they are. What they’re doing. Why they’re here.”

“Should I contact Sayah? If they’re also on her border?—”

At the mention of the head of the Iron Veil Cartel controlling Georgia, Elena straightened. “Gather your own intel first,” she said instead of admitting that she didn’t want Sayah to learn of her ignorance. Of her failing. The problem was still small, still manageable. She needed to keep it within her borders. “Find them,” she added with a growl.

“I don’t want to leave your side,” Sofia confessed, gaze fixed only on Elena. “The last time?—”

Elena put her hand on her shoulder. They’d all experienced a horrible loss, all still recovering. Even after lifetimes of loss, it still took more than its due. Grief never visited without leaving another scar behind. “What occurred will never be repeated,” she vowed.

Without a word, Sofia turned and disappeared into the crowd. Her movements were swift and silent, a shadow rejoining the darkness.

Elena watched her go, a knot forming in her gut. A male nest. It couldn’t be possible. It was too much of an anomaly, a disruption in the natural order. Males simply couldn’t hold power without the ability to procreate. Without the kind of allegiance that connection created. What was the point in taking power from her if they could not wield it?

She pushed the thoughts aside. The intel had to be incomplete. And if there was anyone who could discover the truth without arousing suspicion, it was her soundless assassin.

When she turned back toward Zuri and Marisol, Zuri was gone and Marisol was in conversation with a tall brunette. The entirety of the endless cosmos contracted to the point where the woman’s hand met Marisol’s forearm. Nothing existed beyond the sultry smile on Marisol’s glossy pink lips and interest in her brilliant hazel eyes.

Resisting the instinct to cause a scene, Elena sauntered instead of striding. Marisol was practically hanging on every word while being regaled with World War II nursing techniques. No one could really be that interested in penicillin or wound debridement. Gods .

The moment she stepped into the vampire’s field of vision, the woman stopped talking. “Elena,” she said, her eyes trained on her shoes. “A blessing to be in your presence again.”

Elena’s attention shot to Marisol and the flush creeping down her elegant throat.

“Lois was a Navy nurse during Japan’s occupation of the Philippines and was captured,” Marisol said with something bordering on fascination. “She was telling me how she and her fellow nurses kept the other POWs alive for three years of internment with basically no supplies. She’s a freaking hero.”

“No hero,” Lois replied in the most transparent attempt at humility Elena had ever seen. “Just did my job.” She shifted her gaze back to Marisol. “No different than you clocking in at the hospital every day. You do your best and save who you can.”

Elena’s lip itched to curl at the saccharine display. Instead of verbalizing her displeasure, she wrapped her arm around Marisol’s waist, making it obvious that Heroic Nurse Lois had trespassed on what was hers.

Eyes widening, Lois bowed her head. “Forgive me, I was not advised,” she said, tone clipped with the appropriate amount of fear and regret. Without looking up, she turned and fled.

“Why did you do that?” Marisol’s expression was alive with confusion and too much indignation. “We were talking.”

“She wanted to?—”

“She wanted to talk to me,” Marisol snapped, interrupting her in front of her subjects. As if easing away would stop them from listening. “You know, a conversation. That thing where people ask you questions about yourself, and then listen. Maybe they even tell you some interesting and related bits of information so you can get to know each other. And it made me realize that I don’t think you’ve ever asked me a single question. I thought that was a vampire thing, but obviously it’s not.”

Brow furrowed, Elena couldn’t piece together why Marisol was so annoyed. “I ask you questions,” she said flatly.

The arms crossing over Marisol’s chest spoke of disagreement. “Oh, yeah. Lots of questions.” She made a show of pretending to think. “Questions like are you wet ?” She dropped her arms to rest her hands on her hips. “Wait. I’m sorry. You enjoy telling me I’m wet before you’ve even touched me. So, no. Not even then.”

Returning with a martini, Zuri was very obviously not going to help her figure out why Marisol had lost her mind. With an irrepressible smirk, Zuri pulled an olive off a toothpick with her teeth. Open delight was not what Elena needed.

“We haven’t exactly had time to?—”

Marisol didn’t let her finish. “And somehow, in about fifteen minutes, Lois learned that it took me forever to learn how to insert a Foley catheter, that I’m allergic to nuts, and had?—”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to inquire of your medical history,” Elena joked in an effort to change Marisol’s unexpected mood, but Zuri’s pitying chuckle made it clear that had been the wrong tack.

“What Bambi is saying,” Zuri started as if she was suddenly the expert on the subject, “is she wants to feel more like a person and less like a sex toy. And if all you want is a latter”—her gaze drifted to Lois, who was trying to disappear into the velvet wallpaper—“then she has other options to fulfill the former.”

Every inch of Elena’s skin ignited at the idea of Marisol in someone else’s bed. Her fangs surged into lethal points while her muscles tensed. She was about to tell Marisol that she didn’t need to go outside of her and Zuri to satisfy any of her needs when Librada signaled to her from upstairs.

If it had been anyone other than the head of the California cartel standing next to her, Elena would have made Librada wait. But she hadn’t seen the woman wander in, and she needed to make sure she saw Elena had everything well in hand.

“Wait here,” Elena growled.

Marisol held her gaze before making a face that said maybe .

After draining her glass, Zuri laughed. While Elena stomped away, she heard Zuri whisper, “Remember this moment, Bambi. It’s the second she realized you could really fuck her up.” Her grin turned audible. “She learns so much more slowly than I do.”