Destined for an Early Grave

by Jeaniene Frost

  “Cat?” Don waited a second before responding. “Have you been drinking?”

  A brittle laugh escaped me. “I wish.”

  I was waiting again. It seemed to be all I could do lately. Spade made a few more calls to mutual acquaintances, trying to glean in a roundabout way if they had information on Bones, but no one had. Short of asking, “Seen Crispin ’round?” it was a painstaking and frustrating process.

  Therefore, when a car pulled up, I ran to the window, praying that it was Bones. It wasn’t, and I couldn’t have been more surprised to see who walked up to the house.

  Tate, the captain of my former team and my longtime friend, strode into the room and came right up to me like no one else was there. “How could you not have told me any of this?” he demanded.

  Both Spade and Vlad were giving Tate hostile looks. Tate might be my friend, but he wasn’t theirs. I pulled his hands away before he was impaled through the heart with silver.

  “I didn’t know Bones was missing, I just thought he was pissed.”

  Tate made a scornful noise. “Not Crypt Keeper. I don’t give a shit about him. I meant you and the vampire Don just told me has been chasing you for weeks.”

  Oh, jeez. Tate was bent that I didn’t tell him about Gregor? As if I needed this on top of everything else.

  “Because I’ve hardly seen you since I quit working for Don. Now, are you here to help? Unlike you, I care very much that Bones is missing.”

  “He’s not missing,” Tate stated coldly. “He’s just an asshole.”

  He was on his feet when he said it, staring up from the ground an instant later. Spade glowered over him. The anger emanating from him made me step between them.

  “You’ve made your point.”

  “Crispin isn’t here to counter his insults, and I’ll not listen to anyone slander him,” Spade retorted, his hand on a silver knife.

  “Your boy isn’t missing,” Tate repeated, getting to his feet. “He’s in the French Quarter like you thought, and if he’s being held against his will, he’s sure making the most of it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Tate gave me a pitying but hard glance and pulled some sheets out of his coat.

  “Satellite imagery. I printed it from the computer before I got here, so it’s a little blurry, but there’s no mistaking him. See the time stamp? It’s 11:32 P.M. Central Time last night. Bones looks fine to me.”

  Spade and I spread the pictures onto a nearby table. The first one was a shot along Bourbon Street. Not very distinct, but yes, it was Bones. He was walking in the middle of the street. Even with the usual throngs of people, he stood out.

  Thank God, was my initial thought.

  I flipped to the second image. Bones was in front of his house, if I recognized the structure. And there was a woman in his arms.

  A low growl escaped me. I flipped to the next page. The third image had me belting out a curse and almost flinging it at Spade.

  “Needed some time to himself, huh? Funny how he doesn’t seem to be doing that alone!”

  The last image was only a partial of Bones’s face. He was half inside the gate leading to his door. The same tramp was plastered to him, I could tell from her outfit, and his features were blocked because he was kissing her.

  “He’s a cheating prick,” Tate said tonelessly. “He hasn’t emerged from his house since that shot, according to the satellite. I don’t need to tell you that soon we’ll have to point it back where it belongs, Cat. Don’s stretching his authority on this one.”

  “Motherfucker,” I spat.

  “This doesn’t prove anything,” Spade said, recovering from his astonishment. “We don’t know what’s going on, or who this woman is. She could be a contact and these actions a ruse.”

  “Oh, there’s contact, all right.” I wanted to study the photos and destroy them at the same time. “Full frontal, from what I can see!”

  “Damn straight,” Tate muttered.

  “Quiet,” Spade barked at Tate, easing his pitch when he turned to me. “Crispin wouldn’t betray you that way, no matter how livid he was. There’s an explanation for this. Let Fabian go and find it.”

  Underneath my fury, there was also piercing hurt. I wanted to believe that this was all a misunderstanding. And yet deep down inside there was an insinuating, slithering fear. What if it wasn’t?

  “Okay.” Forced out while my head started to pound. “Fabian, you get down there and find Bones. Let him explain to you who this chick is. I’ll wait to see what Bones says.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Tate burst. “Didn’t you look at those pictures? What more do you need, live video feed?”

  “Sometimes that isn’t right either,” I yelled back. My eyes stung, but I didn’t cry. “I found that out the hard way, and I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

  Tate just stared at me with disbelief. Then he said, “You’re a fool,” before walking away in disgust.

  “I’ll bring you word,” Fabian promised.

  “Please do.” I glanced at the photos again. “No matter what it is.”

  NINETEEN

  JUAN CAME TO PICK FABIAN UP. FROM JUAN’S friendly but cautious greeting, I knew he’d seen the pictures.

  “How long before he gets there?” I asked Juan when they were about to leave.

  He shuffled. “Querida, if I’m specific, it’ll tell you too much.”

  “Approximately,” I prodded, hating this necessary secrecy, but Gregor had proved he was still sifting in my dreams. If I somehow fell asleep, damned if I’d give him anything useful.

  “Around a day, allowing for contact time and return,” he estimated.

  That long? I’d wear holes in the floor pacing.

  “Fine.” Years of faking cool when I was an emotional wreck had its advantages. “Take care of my ghost.”

  Juan gave a wary glance to his shoulder. Fabian smiled at me, his hand disappearing into Juan’s collarbone.

  “Good seeing you, querida,” Juan said, still giving his shoulder a cagey stare. I waved with a forced smile. Mustn’t look like the worried, jilted wife.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spade rub his temple. Annette was in the doorway, almost leaning on the frame. It had been a long time since any of us had slept.

  “Get some sleep, guys. This isn’t a group contest on who can stay awake the longest. Especially you, Spade. You may need to be sharp when we get word, so you don’t have a choice.”

  He nodded. “Just a few hours. That should tide me over.”

  “If you’re worried that I’ll nod off, don’t. I can safely say there’s enough on my mind to keep me up.”

  Spade gave Tate a condemning glare. “For all we know, those images were doctored. His jealousy of Crispin is boundless. It wouldn’t astonish me in the least to have Fabian report back that there was no such woman.”

  “Yeah, right,” Tate scoffed. “I wouldn’t do that. Before anything else, I’m Cat’s friend. And if Bones has nothing to hide, then why’s he hiding?”

  “Enough, guys.” They were making my head worse.

  Spade gave Tate a final glare. “You’ll be proven wrong soon enough. I’ll enjoy informing Crispin about how you needlessly upset Cat in your futile quest to have her, because I think at last he’ll kill you for it.”

  Tate squared his shoulders. “I’m upsetting her with the truth because I’ll be damned if I’ll shut up while he runs around behind her back making a fool of her.”

  Spade stared at Tate in a way that worried me. He looked like he was fighting not to kill him.

  “You’re very lucky Crispin made me swear never to harm you,” Spade settled on. “Else you’d already be missing your head.”

  “Sleep tight,” Tate shot back.

  “That better be your last word,” I warned Tate. Spade wasn’t all bark and no bite. Didn’t Tate know that?

  Spade tensed like all bets were off. I considered tackling him, but then decided on a diff
erent tactic.

  I swayed with a gasp and put my hand to my head. Spade was at my side in a blink. His chivalrousness went even deeper than his temper.

  “What is it, Cat?”

  “All this stress and lack of sleep…I feel a little faint.”

  With a final threatening glance at Tate, Spade touched my arm. “I’ll get you some water.”

  He went inside, and I turned my attention to Tate. “I probably just saved your life,” I said quietly.

  Vlad had been watching the whole thing with faint amusement. He’d known I was faking since he would have heard it in my head.

  “Young man, one day I suspect you’ll have a terrible accident,” he said to Tate. “Keep provoking people, and it will be one day soon.”

  Tate rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know—you’ll kill me something awful. If only I had a dime for every time I heard that.”

  “If I wanted you dead, you would be. You should mind your speech so when you do piss someone off past his control, you’ll be strong enough to have a chance at surviving it.”

  “Good advice,” I added. “You should listen to him.”

  Tate swung his gaze at me. “Fuck, Cat. I’d be jumping at my own shadow if was scared of every threat directed at me. One day I’m gonna die. Everyone will, even our kind. I’ll be damned if I spend what time I have sniveling like a coward, kissing ass so I don’t make people angry. All I’ve got is how I live. How I’ll die? That’s the problem of the guy who kills me.”

  “God,” I muttered. He just wouldn’t listen.

  Vlad let out a whistle. “I’ve wondered what she saw in you. You seem so pitiful most of the time. At least you have some semblance of courage.”

  “You motherfucker—” Tate began.

  His feet caught fire. Then his hands. The forward momentum he’d used to charge at Vlad was abruptly changed into an odd stomping dance while Tate tried to douse the flames.

  Vlad tutted. “See? Watch your temper.”

  “Ahem.” I cleared my throat. “You mind?”

  The fire slowly extinguished on Tate. I shook my head. Fabian couldn’t come back fast enough. Who would have thought I’d be so anxious to see a ghost?

  “Can I trust you not to kill him, Vlad, while I go inside and not sleep?” I asked.

  Vlad smiled. “For a while, you can.”

  Juan didn’t come back. Neither did Fabian, though it wasn’t eighteen hours before there was word. It came in the form of a phone call. Funny how terrible news usually came to me by phone.

  “Cat.”

  Juan’s voice. As soon as I heard it, I knew it was bad. He sounded so controlled. So forcibly gentle.

  “I didn’t want to wait to tell you, querida…”

  Vlad was staring at me. Tate was, too. Spade almost had his head on my shoulder to hear the report firsthand.

  “When Fabian found him, it was clear that Bones wasn’t being held against his will. He, ah, indicated that he wanted Fabian to leave…would you pull yourself together, amigo?” This was presumably to the ghost, since I hadn’t broken down. Yet. “Look, querida, Fabian said Bones was very harsh. Told him to sod off, or similar.”

  I took a deep breath. “So you’re saying he wanted to be left alone still. Did—did he say for how long? Did he say anything about me?”

  I couldn’t help it; my voice cracked at the last question. My heart was racing, and I felt faint, but at least my legs were straight.

  “Sí.” Juan sounded like he’d swallowed something rancid. “Fabian asked, ‘How am I supposed to tell your wife this?’ and Bones said…”

  Juan stopped. “Said what?” I almost screamed.

  “He said, ‘I have no wife.’”

  Spade snatched the cell out of my numb fingers. “That’s a bloody lie!”

  “Look, I don’t like it either,” I heard Juan snap. “But he’s not lying.”

  Spade didn’t stop fuming. “I’ve known that man 220 years, and I can tell you—”

  “Let it go, Spade.”

  He quit his ranting at my calm tone and gaped at me. “You don’t believe this rot, do you?”

  I think I laughed. Hell if I could say for certain. “I guess after seeing satellite imagery and hearing eyewitness accounts, I’m going to side with yes. Answer me this—did Bones actually say he was coming back to me? Or did you assume?”

  Spade straightened. “He didn’t need to write it down for me to know his intentions—”

  Now I was sure about the laugh, and it was ugly. “In other words, no, you assumed.”

  Here Bones had clearly told me it was over, but I still hadn’t gotten it. I’d clung to the scrap of hope Spade had dangled right up until the bitter end.

  Annette stayed in the far corner of the room, smart. Spade hung up on Juan without another word.

  “Cat, let’s get out of here,” Tate said. “You can go back to Don and the team. You’ve always got a home there. You don’t need this.”

  I stared at him, cold reality intruding between the searing pain. That’s right, this isn’t your home. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong anywhere.

  “No.”

  I thought it, but I wasn’t the one who said it. Vlad brushed by Tate like he wasn’t there.

  “Gregor’s shown he won’t let her go, and you can’t protect her from him. You’ll only get your soldiers killed, and her as well, in short order. She can come with me until she decides what she wants to do.”

  “I doubt your intentions are honorable,” Spade said, his eyes glinting green.

  “If Bones were concerned with my intentions, he’d be here to observe them,” Vlad replied. Tate’s protest wasn’t helping. The mood was quickly turning dangerous. “You’re guarding an abandoned lover, not your best friend’s wife. Why don’t you mind your own love life, since you were lax on that front before.”

  If it were possible for a vampire to whiten, Spade just had. Vlad’s reference to Giselda, Spade’s fiancée, who had been murdered, wasn’t lost on me. Quickly, before things were beyond salvaging, I moved between Spade and Vlad. It wasn’t that I was worried about Vlad getting hurt. I was afraid that if Spade touched him, Vlad would burn him to death.

  “Spade, whatever you may think, Bones made it crystal clear that we were over. It’s my fault I didn’t accept it. Tate…I can’t go back. There is no going back.” God, if only there were. “Vlad, what’s your price? Vampires always have one, so what do you want if I go with you until I figure things out?”

  Vlad seemed to consider it. “I’ll take feeding from you as a fair price.”

  “Agreed.” Or, Sold! to the vampire with the coppery-green eyes.

  Spade crossed his arms. “There’s no way I’m allowing you to leave with him.”

  Don’t get physical, I sent to Vlad, seeing his lip curl at the challenge. Spade is my friend, even if he is wrong. No snack for you if you toast him. That goes for Tate as well, since he looks like he’s about to throw himself in our path.

  “Do I smell smoke?” Vlad asked, that little smile never leaving his face.

  With that, flames began crawling across the walls. It looked like orange and red snakes magically appeared and grew. And grew.

  Spade began cursing and went to the sink, filling the nearest containers with water while shouting for assistance.

  “If you’re quick, you’ll have it out in no time,” Vlad assured them, holding out his arm to me. “Shall we?”

  To stay would be to cause greater damage. The three of them would come to blows, I knew, and no amount of intervention would stop them. Tate already wasn’t rational. He grabbed Vlad’s shoulder—and then went flying up through the ceiling. Both of them, from the sounds of it. Rubble showered down amidst the flames.

  Vlad didn’t even blink. “That’s a warning. The next one won’t be.”

  I gave a last glance at the hole in the ceiling and the burning walls before I took Vlad’s arm, still reeling from the past fifteen minutes. “Let’s go.”

/>   We got into a car that I assumed was Vlad’s. As we pulled away, there were four distinct ka-booms, and the vehicles in the driveway exploded.

  “So they don’t attempt to follow us,” Vlad said in response to my stunned look.

  Lightning broke across the sky. It was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.

  TWENTY

  THERE ARE FIVE STEPS TO THE GRIEVING process, or so they say. Denial is the first. I’d had plenty of that since I left Spade’s. Then anger, and oh yeah, I was angry. Couldn’t even take a few days to stop and think about things, maybe let the dust settle? Oh no, not you, Bones! Back in the saddle, huh, cowboy?

  Then bargaining, perhaps the most pathetic one of all, which kept me busy through the flight to our unknown destination. Let him come back. I love him so much, and he did love me. Maybe we can still work things out…

  Fuck him! my anger said. I always knew Bones would go back to his old tricks. A leopard can’t change his spots, right? Doesn’t have a wife, huh? Who needs you, anyway?

  If the vampire next to me was listening to my mental schizophrenia, he gave no indication. Vlad whistled while my emotions played Russian roulette. By the time he announced we’d arrived, I was into a state of full-blown depression.

  Or, in other words, step Number Four.

  The car stopped, and I heard people approach. None of them had heartbeats.

  My car door opened. There was a light tug on my hand. “Keep them closed a moment longer. I’ll lead you inside.”

  A minute of careful stepping later, and we stopped.

  “You can open your eyes now, Cat.”

  I did. We were in a long hall of some sort, very old-looking. High, high ceilings. Gothic in the very definition of the word.

  Vlad smiled. “Enter freely and of your own will, isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?”

  I flicked my gaze around the hall. “I’m just staying a few days to get my head on straight.” And staple together my broken heart.