Page 2 of Blood Mosaic

Oleg grabbed a bottle of blood-wine from a sturdy cedar cabinet before he walked to the door. He hadn’t fed in a week, and it wouldn’t do to let his fangs down around Elene. She’d only be irritable.

He fed on the blood of the people who served in the castle and filled his belly with game from the forest around him. Elene was a trusted adviser and partner, not a blood donor.

His life had changed little over the centuries, the biggest shock wave being the death of his mate a decade before, but he and Luana had been estranged and she’d never spent much time at his citadel in the mountains, preferring to be near her own element and live by the sea.

Oleg opened the door and stepped into the antechamber where Elene waited.

The competent human usually had a briefcase with her and a portfolio of papers for him to read and sign. There were contracts and tax forms and any number of legal documents involved in being a legitimate businessman in the twenty-first century, and he had to sign all of them with one alias or another. It was Elene’s job to keep all that straight.

That night there were no papers spread on the carved oak desk. No briefcase. No terse recitation of tasks he needed to accomplish to keep the human money and vampire gold flowing.

Elene sat on a velvet settee with her hands folded on her lap. “You need to come to Odesa with me.”

“Why?”

“To meet an accountant.”

His irritation was immediately pricked. Sitting across from Elene, he leaned back and stretched his arms across the back of the sofa as a servant brought in a tea service.

Oleg handed the servant the bottle of blood-wine, and the woman silently walked to the sideboard, opened it, and handed him a full goblet before she continued serving Elene tea.

“I’m sorry,” Oleg said. “Say that again because I think you’re mistaking me for someone who deals with minor financial issues.”

“Which is me?” Elene raised an arched black eyebrow at him.

“Which is your assistant’s assistant, Elene. Or do you need to hire more people?”

She sighed and took the tea the maid held out. “Thank you, Serena. You may go.”

The maid silently left the room, and Elene waited a few minutes as her steps retreated down the hall.

Oleg heard when the double doors to his wing of the citadel closed. “We’re alone.”

“You need to meet this accountant.” Elene sipped her tea.

“Why?”

“Because she might know something about your daughter.”

The benefitof Oleg’s citadel was its remote location, which was also its liability when it came to business matters. Luckily, Elene had come by the same car that took her back to the private airstrip where a plane waited for her and Oleg.

As they were flying to Odesa, Elene handed him a file. “Tatyana Otsana Vorona.”

Oleg flipped the file open, and the image of the woman in the photograph arrested his gaze. She was blond and blue-eyed, a pale beauty with delicate features and a wide mouth set in a firm line. Faint lines surrounded her eyes, more from stress than age because the woman looked to be in her late twenties at the most.

“Miss Vorona attended the national university in Kyiv and graduated with honors with a double major in accounting and mathematics. She also studied computer science during an internship, and Mika’s sources say she was casually involved in the Kyiv hacker community when she was in school. She’s currently unemployed.”

The resemblance to Oleg’s late mate was unmistakable, and Elene had to have seen it, but she didn’t say a word.

“Where is she from?” He couldn’t take his eyes off the photograph. The twist in his cold heart was unwelcome, and he felt his fangs aching in his jaw.

“We’re not sure. Her mother is from the Crimea, but the parents are divorced and her father wasn’t involved in her life past putting his name on her birth certificate.”

Crimea, where Luana had died but not where she was born in her human life. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe he was seeing ghosts where none existed.

“You said she knew about Zara?” Oleg had numerous vampire children, but none as maddening or problematic as Zara.

“Don’t rush the story,” Elene muttered.

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