Page 1 of Blood from the Marrow (Lilith’s Legacy #2)
Chapter One
“There are murmurs.” Librada sat across from Elena’s desk, one long leg crossed over the other. “That some nobody made a move on you and was obliterated,” she added in open satisfaction.
Open satisfaction looked like a lip twitch and a fleeting crinkle of the eyes on Lib, but it relaxed Elena just the same. Nearly four months after she’d erased Baylor and his crew, all traces of insurrection had vanished.
Better than that, her inner circle was closer than ever and all the vampires in her territory were keeping their eyes down when she was near.
She hadn’t realized that her subjects needed reminding of the reason for her authority, but she was pleased that cutting out the cancer had yielded additional benefits.
“Keep listening,” Elena ordered. “Rats make adjustments every time they encounter a new trap.”
Librada nodded and stood. “I have to meet Randall about the recent shipments to New Orleans, but I’ll be back before sunrise.”
“Tell him to stop being a little shit.” She grinned. “He’s always trying to get more for less. Remind him how much he doesn’t want me to call Bernice,” she added, invoking the head of the Louisiana cartel and reminding herself that she needed to speak with her on an unrelated matter.
“Will you be going down to the club tonight?” Lib asked, hand on the door handle.
Elena knew her well enough to know that she was posing a suggestion. It had been easier to work from the penthouse and she wasn’t in a hurry to be even a few miles away from Marisol and Zuri. But Lib’s unspoken point was well-taken. This was no time to appear distracted.
“Yes.” She glanced at her watch. “Tell Sofia to pick me up at midnight.”
Pleased, Librada saw herself out. Elena followed a few minutes later.
The moment she stepped out of her office and into the main living space, she sensed that Zuri was in the atrium on the terrace.
Despite her protestations about the expense, Zuri spent nearly all of her time there.
She wouldn’t admit that Elena was right about anything, but knowing it was satisfying enough.
Marisol hadn’t come back yet, she realized after a beat. Resisting the urge to call her and find out where she was, Elena opened the group text Marisol had started for the three of them. She’d sent a photo of herself with a coffee and the sun igniting the green in her hazel eyes.
She checked Marisol’s location on her phone.
When Elena confirmed she was in a park in the afternoon, she relaxed.
Nothing was totally vampire proof, but she’d chosen as good a spot as any if she wanted some time to herself.
Elena still preferred when she was with her, but Zuri convinced her that she’d suffocate Marisol with her vampire bullshit if she impeded her desire to do things alone.
Zuri was so consistent, her actions and reactions easy to predict. But Marisol was a constant surprise. Not just unpredictable, but also contradictory. She was gentle and fierce. Heartbreakingly unsure verging on lost, but often fearless and independent.
Zuri’s take on Marisol’s unexpected nature: she’s a Gemini. Astrology had always seemed like a bunch of self-fulfilling nonsense to Elena. A fact that Zuri blamed on her being a Leo. That Zuri’s disposition being represented by a crab, however, Elena couldn’t fault.
She didn’t think Marisol’s personality had anything to do with being born in June. Every time they talked, Elena understood just how alone she felt in the world. How unsure. And yet, she never allowed fear to consume her. She did things half scared out of her mind, but she did them.
There was more to love in resilience than blind bravado. Elena found that slowly discovering all of Marisol’s layers was the thrill of falling slowly she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Something to stretch and savor.
“What are you doing?” Zuri’s voice was followed by the closing of the sliding glass door, the scent of sunshine lingering on her skin, of earth and life and smoke.
Slipping her phone into her trouser pocket, she met Zuri behind the sectional. Close enough to the tinted windows to feel a mild drain from the sun, but not enough to move away.
“Why do you ask me like that?” Elena ran her finger along the thin strap of Zuri’s short sundress.
“Like you’re probably doing something illegal?” She looked up at Elena with mischief in her dark eyes, cheeks flushed from the heat, lips parted.
“Nothing I do is illegal.” She let her fingertips skim up Zuri’s shoulder and over her collarbone. Elena leaned in, closing her eyes when she took a full inhale at the curve of Zuri’s neck. “I’ve been doing it since before there were laws.”
Zuri laughed, rolling her eyes but pulling her in and wrapping her arms around Elena’s neck. “You’re certainly not older than fucking laws, Hammurabi.”
“It’s easy to feel ancient when I have such young partners.” She kissed the sunshine off her lips.
Zuri smiled into their kiss, fingernails scratching a soothing rhythm at the base of Elena’s neck. “You know exactly what to say to a girl turning forty next summer,” she joked.
Tipping her back in a dramatic display Humphrey Bogart would be proud of, Elena kissed her before whispering, “I could keep you thirty-nine forever.”
Chuckling, Zuri bit Elena’s bottom lip hard. “Maybe if you’d offered when I was twenty-one and my tits were up to my chin.”
Elena returned Zuri to her feet just to gawk at her mouth-watering form. “Your tits are perfect where they are.”
“Gross,” Zuri said, kissing her again before leaving her to get a bottle of water from the fridge.
“I may have a lead on a shipwreck in the Arabian Sea.” Elena followed her into the kitchen until a knock at the door deviated her path. “A typhoon took out a Portuguese ship in 1503 and it was allegedly full of treasures.”
“Treasures that have been sitting in salt water for five-hundred and whatever years,” Zuri replied.
“Aren’t you the one that should be full of faith?” Elena yanked open the reinforced front door.
“I’m the witch, not the angel,” Zuri said before opening the pantry.
“Don’t I know it,” she muttered before dropping her grin.
“This was delivered to the club,” one of her bartenders explained, glancing down at the large red box he was handling like porcelain. “Librada said you’d want me to bring it over.”
She took it with a nod and released him.
“What’s that?” Zuri asked after tossing a handful of almonds into her mouth. She hadn’t explicitly said it, but Elena had noticed she was eating meat less often, even when Marisol wasn’t around. Zuri had always been much better at showing her affection than voicing it.
“X-ray vision isn’t one of my vampire—”
“Oh, don’t be a pain in the dick.” Zuri took the box and set it on the marble counter in the kitchen.
“You don’t even know what’s in there.” Elena jumped on the counter next to the box.
“Like McVamp the Crime Bitch wouldn’t have sniffed out a threat,” she joked before pulling the top off the box. “Is that blood?”
Elena peered into the box where a blood-filled crystal skull sat on a black velvet pillow. So obvious and over-the-top and exactly Sayah’s style.
Reaching in, she plucked out the smoke-tinted skull.
“Whose blood is that?” Zuri watched in mild yet unveiled disgust.
Elena tossed the undoubtedly priceless crystal from one palm to the other.
“If I had to guess, something obnoxiously rare.” She turned it over to read the inscription on the back.
“What else would be good enough for an invite to the Feast of Eternity?” She rolled her eyes.
“Sayah throws it every year on her Savannah estate.”
“The High Vampy Days,” Zuri said with a nod, knowing that Elena didn’t observe any of them. “Are you going to drink that?”
“Maybe,” she replied with a wiggle in her brows. “Unless you want to offer me something fresher.”
After dropping the invitation in the box, Elena hopped off the counter. She pulled Zuri into her arms, fangs at the ready and skimming the delicate skin of her neck. Zuri’s pulse thundering on the tip of Elena’s tongue made her thirst a living, greedy thing.
Zuri made a fist in her hair, holding her at bay. Elena strained against her hold, the delicious sting on her scalp only adding to her hunger.
“Where the fuck is Bambi?” Zuri groaned, her desire rushing to the surface. “How long does it take to get some artificial pumpkin coffee shit?”