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

Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

Few things in the United States were older than Elena. She should like that St. Augustine was a couple hundred years her senior, but flying over the first city in the country only made her think of conquerors and mass devastation.

It hadn’t been as hard as some might guess to slice off the tiny, coastal sliver of her territory and give it to Narine. She hated the still-standing monuments to colonialism, especially because she shared blood with the perpetrators. At least theoretically.

As soon as her pilot landed the sleek black helicopter in a vacant lot near an empty beach, Elena unclipped the seat belt strapped over both arms and her waist. The hideous headphones were off a moment later, though the noise was still deafening to her sensitive ears. Across from her, Librada was already getting up from the white leather seat facing hers.

Before anyone opened the door with its heavily tinted windows Elena reached for her hoodie. It was the same woven material of her black pants, long-sleeved shirt, and gloves, and would keep her safe in the sun. Librada pulled on a matching jacket. Once their hoods were up, the pilot slipped into the passenger space and slid open the massive door.

They’d only just started to walk when a blacked-out Wrangler veered off the narrow road, jumped the curb, and started for them. Elena stopped moving, knees bent and willing away the noise of the stupid helicopter. It was too windy to pick up reliable scents. The ocean and sea life and stench of nearby tourists made it impossible to decipher how many bodies were in the Jeep roaring toward them. All she could identify were males .

Without need for conversation, Librada stood in front of her as if ready to pick up the speeding vehicle and tear it apart with her hands. Was this a trap? Had Narine not shown herself to draw Elena out? There was no time to feel the disappointment of betrayal. Not when there was vengeance at her fingertips.

Fangs extended, Elena stared down the vehicle a few feet away. If there wasn’t a hoard of other cronies flanking them on all sides, whoever was in the Jeep had been sent on a suicide mission.

The Jeep was a foot away and Elena was primed to kill her way back home when it made a sharp turn and the back passenger door flew open inches from Librada’s sharp nails.

“So sorry, boss.” A man jumped out in a loose hoodie and baggy pants. His silver hair was hidden under his hood but she recognized his voice. Narine’s second. “You landed earlier than expected.”

He gestured toward the now empty backseat. Inside the dark car was nothing but a driver. One reeking with anxiety—not malice. Gods . Elena took a breath and climbed inside.

Before Elena could mention it, Narine’s number two looked back at them from the front passenger seat and said, “Narine regrets not being here to pick you up herself. There was an issue with a client this morning.”

Librada shot her a fleeting glance. She didn’t have to say that it was, at best, disrespectful that Narine hadn’t been in the car. Narine was technically not her subject anymore, but there was still a hierarchy, even outside of the cartel system. It was strange that Narine was missing.

“What kind of issue?” Elena imbued her tone with disappointment that would surely be relayed.

It was obvious from the way he swallowed that he’d regretted offering why Narine was absent. “A security client misunderstood some terms, is all.” He tried to add something like a casual chuckle at the end, but the sound was like a cat getting his tail stuck in a door.

“I told her that human clients are more trouble than they’re worth.” She looked out the window, ocean on either side of them while they sped toward a small city trapped in the past.

“It’s well in hand,” he lied.

“Perhaps I should take back this little hamlet.” Elena watched the old fortress looming over the edge of the city disappear behind stone buildings that still hummed with magic. So many witches here… Could there be Aglion too? Marisol couldn’t be the only one; the odds of that were astronomical.

Second made no comment on Narine’s ability to manage her tiny territory, but his entire body stiffened defensively. Elena pulled back her hood and held his gaze. It only took a moment to break him. To remind him that she could separate his head from his neck before he’d blinked.

There was no more conversation while they crawled through tourists crossing cobblestone streets. Around them, every tourist trap peddled haunted tours or some pirate gimmick. Elena bit back her sneer. If these people had seen the brutality of the real thing, there was no way they would romanticize pirates. Or maybe they would. Humans idolized the sickest shit.

What had once been a sleepy neighborhood of shabby beach cottages along the coast was now a fortress to rival the Castillo de San Marcos a couple of miles down the shore. Narine’s walled compound had a massive estate at the center—high arches and domed ceilings and stunning colorful mosaics lining every entrance. Scattered around the jewel at the center, half a dozen small buildings broke up the landscape that reminded Elena of strolling through the streets of Shiraz.

“Narine has been busy,” Elena said when they stopped in front of what could only be described as a palace. She couldn’t imagine all the zoning variants she’d gotten. So much compulsion of lowly bureaucrats. Elena would never make herself so conspicuous and she was surprised Narine would take such risks.

Under huge black umbrellas, Elena and Librada were led down a corridor painted a dusky pink. Each domed ceiling high above them depicted one of Lilith’s seven daughters. Hera, Jezebel, Medusa, Cleopatra, Hecate, Ishtar, and Circe. All of them captured in bright mosaics.

“Since when did she get so observant?” Elena muttered to Librada who looked like she’d been wondering the same.

Through a courtyard teeming with bright pink Mohammadi rose blooms, they arrived in a great room with a view of the garden behind and the ocean ahead. Narine had been paying attention to her lesson about looking the part of a leader perhaps too well.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Mother.” Narine swept into the room, straight black hair hanging down the front of her chest.

Narine’s captivating dark eyes were painted black. Dressed in colorful silks that draped her full figure, she was gliding more than walking. Narine was still every bit the Persian princess she’d once been.

“Don’t add to your follies by making me feel old,” Elena joked before extending her arms to match Narine’s gesture. The embrace was brief but relatively warm as far as affection between predators went.

“I am truly sorry for not meeting you myself?—”

“And for not being in attendance last night,” Elena added.

Narine straightened for a fraction of a second before bowing her head in a more appropriate gesture of contrition. “With the number of guests you surely entertained, I didn’t realize my absence would be so noticed.”

“It was noticed,” Librada replied, tone cold and lethal.

Jaw tightening, Narine let her nostrils flair for an instant before adjusting her features. “Of course. I should have been there.”

When she didn’t volunteer what had stopped her from attending, Elena kept her gaze on Narine. She counted the seconds of uncomfortable silence before movement from the far corner of the room made Elena turn her head.

Four beautiful specimens in white linen floated into the room. Offerings, obviously.

“I have an AB positive for you.” Narine gestured to the androgynous brunette in loose pants and top, looking like they intended to lounge at a resort all day. “Is that still your favorite?”

“I’ve eaten,” Elena said by way of dismissal.

“Oh, come on.” Narine’s smile was bright and warm and conducive to clouding judgment. It reminded Elena of the woman she’d met over a century ago. Smart, cunning, seductive. She’d been a vampire without a nest then, and Elena hadn’t hesitated to take her in. “It’s rude to decline my hospitality.”

With a glance, Elena dismissed Narine’s human lovers. She could smell Narine all over each of them. And while that was no deterrent to drinking from them, she was finding herself ready to get back home. To get to the women who smelled like her.

When her lovers hesitated, Narine gave them the signal that it was okay to go. To return to lounging by the pool or whatever they’d been doing.

“You used to be a lot more fun,” Narine decided before leading them to the upholstered couch and armchairs near a transparent grand piano.

“You used to be more direct.” Elena crossed one leg over the other. “You haven’t asked about the rumors regarding my brief absence after an attack on my position ,” she said instead of life .

Reclined on the small sofa, Narine laughed. “Because I don’t believe them.” She waved her hand. “You don’t make it a habit to tell people your business. The way I heard it, you were gone a few days. That’s hardly shock?—”

“They’re true,” Elena said.

Narine’s amusement melted in an instant. She sat up, luscious brows furrowed. “True?” She shook her head. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You didn’t avoid attending my gathering because you feared I couldn’t protect you?” Elena let the worry slip out.

“Couldn’t protect me?” Narine laughed, but it was coated in caustic rage. “Elena, you are the strongest vampire I’ve ever met. Not just physically, but mentally.” She shook her head as if to bring herself back to the point. “What do you mean by the rumors are true? I don’t understand.” She leaned forward, huge, dark eyes imploring her to confess.

Next to her, Librada shifted. She wouldn’t want Elena to tell Narine what happened. She’d want the details to remain nebulous and amorphous. But there was no hiding that Lance and Jesus and Robert were dead. That her human proxy had been killed. Even if no one was stupid enough to ask for confirmation, there was no point in pretending. Not here.

Twisting the garnet ring on her middle finger, she opened her mouth and spilled. While she talked, Narine’s face crumpled into horror and then grief. She’d been close to Robert once.

“But there is not a single established cartel that would ever bring down a world of hell on themselves by breaking the treaty,” Narine said, eyes still wide with disbelief.

“Perhaps a band of male vampires living on the outskirts of society would be desperate enough to take the swing,” Elena considered aloud. It still sounded so impossible to her, but the brain’s capacity for delusion had surprised her before.

“Baylor’s crew?” Narine’s head was tipped to one side.

“Who is that?” Librada leaned forward like she’d barely stopped herself from lunging.

“A fucking nobody. Harmless loser playing in the swamp with a handful of other orphaned males.” Narine shook her head. “I offered them a place in my nest when they were here a few years ago, but they wanted to go it alone. It was stupid and unnecessarily difficult, but Baylor was the oldest among them and he’s barely fifty. The survivalist type, you know? They’re too stupid to know how stupid they are.”

“Stupid enough to attack me?”

“Until you told me just now it was true, my answer would have been no one is that fucking stupid.” Narine’s gaze darted between Elena and Librada. “What makes you think it’s Baylor?”

“The assailants were all male—” Librada started.

“That could just mean that the queen bee is smart enough to hide herself. Just in case things didn’t go to plan,” Narine interrupted.

“That’s what I said,” Elena agreed. “What female would be leading Baylor’s crew?”

Narine dropped back against the couch like her mind was going in a hundred different directions. Like she was digging deep into her memories. “Those morons had very incorrect ideas about how the world works. Starting with the fantasy that we’re all just pretending that men cannot turn new vampires.” She gurgled a chuckle that stayed in her throat. “Something about us just refusing to teach them how to do it. Appalling gender-based conspiracy theories. You know those ideas pop up every few decades when new baby vamps are learning the ways of the world.” She shook her head again. “Anyway, there’s no way they’d follow a woman. Not that guy or his knuckle-dragging groupies.”

She didn’t understand why men who couldn’t give birth in their first life would find it so hard to believe they couldn’t do it in their second. Becoming vampires only enhanced what was already there. Vampire procreation wasn’t so far from human childbirth to be incomprehensible.

Elena turned her head toward Librada in the chair next to her. Could this Baylor really think he could obtain a shred of authority if he killed her? Even if he succeeded by sheer luck, they would be obliterated by the joint force of every other cartel in the country.

“I don’t know why Baylor would be dumb enough to do this, but if they rose up against you…” Narine stood, the invisible aura of a war-cry radiating from her skin. “I will crush them.”

An hour later, Elena was walking back to the helicopter significantly lighter than she’d arrived. If all she had to contend with was a band of misguided fools, the solution was simple. It was just a matter of rooting them out. That was the hardest part. But once she’d found them, they wouldn’t be able to hide behind a coward’s ambush and some poison. This was the best possible scenario really. A group of radicals that could have gone after any cartel head. It wasn’t personal. It wasn’t even a real challenge.

The sound of Librada’s phone ringing wouldn’t have normally derailed Elena’s thoughts, but it was followed by Lib muttering a Spanish curse under her breath when she answered. The caller hadn’t said more than a few words before Librada turned to her. “There was trouble,” she said with unusual concern bleeding from her too-wide eyes.

Everything else in the world dropped away. Elena didn’t waste another breath asking questions. Taking off in a blinding sprint, hood blowing off but the weak sun wouldn’t slow her advance, she bellowed for the pilot to open the door.

The pilot tumbled out of the helicopter, openly confused. He remained rooted to the spot while Elena blew past him.

Leaping into the helicopter with Lib right behind her, she turned to show the stunned pilot her fangs and growled, “Home. Now.” Grabbing him by the shoulder, she hauled him into the helicopter.

Body trembling, the pilot locked the door and all but tumbled into the cockpit. “Yes, ma’am,” he said like he was going to puke while flipping switches and causing the helicopter to whirl to life. “Buckle in and I’ll get us?—”

“Now,” she repeated, fear a belt tied around her throat pulling tight enough to strangle.

Now , she prayed, standing behind the pilot and looking out into the dark gray sky like she could manifest herself back to them. Like she could keep them safe through sheer force of will.