Page 2 of Blood from the Marrow
“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 thunderingon 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?”
Chapter Two
“I don’t have a mother,”Marisol said to the stranger with the nerve to have her grandmother’s hands. Imposter hands that had never held her. Never soothed her. Never fed her.
The woman closed her eyes, absorbing the impact of her words like a baseball bat to the gut. When she opened them again, they were glistening with unshed tears. “There are so many things I want to say?—”
“You can start with goodbye. Stick to what you know,” Marisol snapped. She didn’t stomp away, but only because she wasn’t sure that her trembling body would hold her up when she stood.
“You have every right to be angry?—”
“Oh, thank you for permission to feel my own feelings.” Heat roared out from her tight chest and over her skin.
The woman swallowed the blow Zuri would’ve delivered, turning away to hastily brush away the tears she was obviously trying to contain. The sight made Marisol’s stomach clench. She didn’t want to cause anyone pain, but she had no point of reference for an interaction like this.
It had been twenty years since the last time she’d wished for her mother, and just as long since she’d harbored any hope ofknowing her. The little girl who’d prayed for her to come back had long grown into the woman who appreciated the person who actually raised her instead of yearning for a ghost.
“My name is Clara?—”
