"You think he lied?"
I shook my head. "No, I think he told what he thinks is the truth."
"I'm lost. What are you getting at?" Zerbrowski asked.
I smiled at him, but not like I was happy. "One of the vamps has to be a master, we figured that, but they also have to be able to cloud men's minds enough to pull something like this off."
"I thought all vamps could cloud men's minds."
I shook my head. "They can mesmerize one person with their gaze, and if they bite them, then they can blank their memory. If they're powerful enough, they can mesmerize with the eyes and blank most of the memory. But the vic will usually have this vague memory of eyes, or sometimes an animal with blazing eyes, or car headlights that were very bright. The mind tries to make mundane sense of what's happened."
"Okay, so one of the vamps zapped him with its gaze."
"No, Zerbrowski, I'm betting it wasn't eyes. I'm betting it was from a distance with no direct gaze. I'll talk to him, see what he remembers, but if he's bite-free and doesn't have some weird memory, then it was done from a nice safe distance, with no direct contact."
"So what?" he asked, and he sounded irritated and tired.
I didn't take it personally. "It means that one of the vamps is old, Zerbrowski. Old, and a master vampire. We're talking fairly major talent here. It's a limited list."
"Names?"
I shook my head. "Let's talk to the security guy and get him to strip down for us."
He looked at me over the rims of his glasses, before he pushed them back up his nose. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"
"We've got to check him for vamp bites. If he's clean, then we're looking for a major player, vampirically speaking. If he's got a bite, then not so major. Trust me, it'll make a difference in who we talk to."
"Is this Jean-Claude's people?" Zerbrowski asked.
"No," I said.
"How can you be sure?" he asked.
How could I be sure? I was tired enough that I let that be a question in my head, let me wonder what Jean-Claude would say. Would he guarantee that this couldn't have been his people? The thought was enough, he was suddenly in my head. Shit.
He was seeing what I was seeing, not good at a murder investigation when the vic had been done in by vamps. I started to shield, to kick him out, but I suddenly knew the answer to my question. "My blood oath will hold them from this, because it is against my express orders to bring us to the negative attention of the human police."
I thought, Liv broke your oath once, and he heard me. "I was not le sourdre de sang then. My oath is not so lightly shaken off now, ma petite. "
I'd been quiet too long. Zerbrowski said, "You okay?"
"Just thinking," I said. I'd known about blood oaths, but I hadn't actually understood how important they were, or what they were supposed to mean. "Because all of Jean-Claude's people have to take a blood oath. It binds them mystically to the Master of the City. He's forbidden his vampires to do shit like this."
"You're saying the blood oath makes this impossible?"
"Not impossible, but harder. It depends on how strong the master is that they make the oath to."
"How strong is Jean-Claude?"
I thought about a way to explain it and finally settled for, "Strong enough that I'd bet good money this wasn't his people."
"But you wouldn't guarantee it."
"Guarantees are for major appliances, not for murder."
He grinned. "That's cute, I may just have to use that one sometime."
"Knock yourself out."
The grin faded round the edges. "I still don't really understand this whole blood oath thing. Maybe I'm just too tired for metaphysics, explain it to me again later."
"Let me simplify it."
"That'd be nice," he said.
"I just learned tonight from the vamps I questioned that Malcolm has abolished the blood oath for the church. It's too barbaric."
Jean-Claude was still in my head and heard what I said. I got a rush of fear from him, fear bordering on panic.
"Okay, and that means what exactly?" Zerbrowski asked.
I had to take a deep breath to talk around Jean-Claude's fear. His voice in my head said, "Are you certain of this, ma petite? "
I let my out loud voice for Zerbrowski answer Jean-Claude's question, too. "It means, Zerbrowski, that you have hundreds of vampires in this area that have nothing to keep them from doing shit like this, except their own consciences, and a morals clause they all sign."
Jean-Claude was cursing in my head in French, and though I caught a word here and there, most of it was too fast for me.
Zerbrowski smiled, and the smile broadened until it was a grin. "You're saying that the church trusts its members to be good little citizens, and your boyfriend isn't that trusting."
"I'll look at the new masters that have come to town at Jean-Claude's invitation, but my money is on the Church of Eternal Life."
"Dolph would say it's because you don't want it to be Jean-Claude's people."
"Yeah, he would, but I'll tell you this, Zerbrowski, the thought that all these new little vampires have only their human morals to make them be good, makes me almost agree with Dolph."
"Agree on what?"
"Kill them all."
Jean-Claude said, "Do not say this out loud to the police, ma petite. It may come to that, and you do not wish your friend to remember this conversation." He was right.
"Shit, Anita, some of your best friends are bloodsuckers."
"Yeah, but there are rules to being a vampire, and Malcolm is trying to treat them like they're just people with fangs. They aren't, Zerbrowski, they really aren't. Even if this turns out to be a bunch of rogues that somehow slipped through everyone's radar. Mine, Jean-Claude's, and Malcolm's, we are so going to have to talk to him about his new policy."
"Why I do I think when you said, we, just now, you weren't including me, or any of the cops?" He was looking at me, and the joking, lecherous comments were gone. I was seeing a very intelligent pair of cop eyes.
I sighed and took a step toward the ladder. I'd said too much, way too much. Jean-Claude's voice in my head, "You must say something to take the sting out of your words, ma petite. "
Out loud, to Zerbrowski, I thought of something to say. "I'm tired Zerbrowski, please don't tell Dolph that I think all the vamps in the church should be done in. I don't mean it, not really."
"I won't tell anyone, especially not Dolph. He'd probably start with his new daughter-in-law, and wouldn't that be a shit."
I nodded. "But if we had hundreds of vamps go bad, all at once, I'm still who gets the call. I so don't want to ever have to try to take on that many of them. I'm good, but not that good."
"For a few hundred, even you'd need help," he said. He let out a long breath. "I can see where the thought would piss you off, and make you tired. Hell, it makes me tired, and nervous."
"I'll try to find out how long this no-blood-oath policy has been in effect," I said.
"And then what?"
I had my hands on the ladder. "I'll deal with it."
" Ma petite, you are being uncautious again."
I whispered, "Get out of my head."
"What does that mean, Anita? You're a federal marshal, you can't do the Lone Ranger shit anymore. You got a badge."
I leaned my forehead on the ladder, got mud on my face, and jerked back. I told him as much of the truth as I could. "We'll give Malcolm a choice, either he blood oaths everybody, or Jean-Claude does." Jean-Claude was suddenly louder than ever in my head. "Stop there, ma petite, I beg you, do not say it out loud."
What I didn't say out loud was that any vampire that didn't want to take the ceremony was probably dead. I had Jean-Claude's memory of it now, and I knew the blood oath was one of their most strenuously observed laws. I'd seen what could happen if the oath wasn't strong enough, what would happen if it wasn't there at all.
I was actually on the ladder, when Zerbrowski s
aid, "And what if the vamps don't want to take the oath?"
I stayed frozen on the ladder for a second, then lied, "I'm not sure. I'm hoping that it's just Malcolm and not every church of their's across the country that's doing this. You're talking about something that's never been done before, Zerbrowski. As far as I know, no master vamp has ever just allowed vamps to breed like this without securing himself as their leader in more than just name. It's never been done before. Vamps aren't big on new ideas."
"Are you talking about killing the ones that won't take the oath? Anita, they've got rights."
"I know that, Zerbrowski, better than most." I was cursing Malcolm, cursing him for the mess he'd started. Even if the murderers weren't his people, it was only a matter of time. Vampires are not people, they don't think like people. I realized that Malcolm was trying to do with the Church of Eternal Life what Richard had tried to do with the Thronnos Rokke Clan. Both of them were trying to treat the monsters like they were just people. They weren't. God help us, but they weren't.
Jean-Claude whispered, "We will need to send envoys to the church and see how bad it truly is."
I didn't answer, because I was pretty sure who one of the envoys would be. Me.
I started up the ladder, and only when Zerbrowski whistled did I remember what I was wearing under the skirt. "Blake, you have a very nice..."
"Don't say it, Zerbrowski."
"Why not?"
"Because if you say it, I'll put you on the ground."
"Ass," he said.
"I warned you," I said.
He laughed.
When we were both on solid ground, I footswept him into a convenient patch of mud. He cursed me, everyone laughed. He said, "I'll tell Katie you were mean to me."
"She'll be on my side." And she would be. In fact, I knew Katie Zerbrowski well enough to know that her husband wouldn't tell her he'd told me I had a nice ass. She'd consider it rude.
Jean-Claude's echo in my head was, but you do. I told him to shut up, too, and this time he listened. "Dawn is near, and I must rest. We will speak again when I wake."
"Pleasant dreams," I whispered.
"The dead do not dream, ma petite. " And he was gone.
48
The security guy hadn't liked stripping. I told him he could do it in privacy with just me and the nice officers watching, or he could do it on one of the stages. His choice. He'd looked like he didn't believe me, but wasn't willing to risk it. He was clean, no vamp bites. On the one hand, shit, because a master vamp is harder to catch, harder to keep, and harder to kill. On the other hand, great, because the list of vamps that could do this was pretty small. Or it was if I understood the deal between Malcolm and Jean-Claude. Okay, technically it had been a deal struck between Malcolm and Nikolaos, the old Master of the City. Having met her, hell, having killed her, I'd sympathized with vamps flocking to the church and not wanting to owe her a damn thing. But Jean-Claude had honored her treaty with the church, on a few conditions. One, no master-level vamps allowed in town without running it by Jean-Claude. So either Malcolm had reneged on the deal, or he didn't know that he had someone that powerful in his community. Or neither Malcolm nor Jean-Claude had felt someone that powerful enter their territory. If that last were true, we were in deep, deep trouble, because that would raise the power level to something none of us would want to deal with.
Or had Jean-Claude approved a master for Malcolm without understanding that there would be no blood oath to keep control of it? I had so many questions that my head hurt, and no way of getting them answered until Jean-Claude woke for the day. I drove back to St. Louis in dawn's early light, happy I had sunglasses with me. Happy that I wasn't driving directly east. The indirect brightness was bad enough.
The Circus was closer than my own house, so that's where I went. I bunked there sometimes to have a date with Jean-Claude, but often just because it was closer to crash. My eyes were so tired they burned, and my body had that achiness that feels almost like you're sick, but is just your body using up all its reserves to keep you awake and moving.
I pulled into the employee parking lot of Circus of the Damned at nearly 8:30 in the morning. There were three other cars in the lot. One was Jason's, and I didn't know the others on sight. But it had to be people who didn't just work here, but also lived here, and knew how to drive. That narrowed it down. I thought Meng Die drove, and maybe Faust, but I just wasn't sure, and was too tired to care.
I walked across the parking lot in the fast growing light, and fought off an urge to hunch my shoulders. I used my key on the back door, and I pushed my way into the blessed dimness of a storage room.
I locked the door behind me, leaning against it for a second or two. Not long ago there hadn't been a lock on the back door at all, you had to have someone let you in, but I'd had them put in a better door, reinforced steel, with a lock. Without the lock they'd had to keep someone in a little lookout up near the roof. The lookout would send someone down if the person at the door needed in. I said it seemed silly, since there was a lock on the outer doors in front. It just made it harder for the employees to get in, and besides there was a small window just before dawn when sometimes the lookout was empty, and that was often when I was trying to get inside. Banging on the door at dawn just got discouraging.
I made sure the door was secure behind me, then I wound my way through the boxes that were always there, to the big door that led to the stairs. The stairs went down, a long way down. I was tired enough that if there'd been an elevator I would have taken it. But there wasn't. The stairs were actually part of the defenses of the Circus. One, it was a lot of stairs, so you had to be fairly serious to go down them. Two, there were places along the way that we could set up ambushes if we needed to. Three, the stairs were oddly made, as if whatever they'd originally been made for hadn't walked on two legs, or at least hadn't been the size of a human being. If you didn't know what awaited you down below, you might start wondering what used these stairs. Actually, just vamps and wereanimals, but our enemies didn't know that. Jean-Claude encouraged the rumors that there were other things down here, bigger, less human things. Fine with me, keep your enemies scared and guessing.
By the time I got to the big iron door at the bottom, my vision was blurry from lack of sleep. I dragged my keys back out. The key to this door wasn't hard to find. It was the only huge, old-fashioned key on the ring. It looked like a giant among dwarves compared to the modern keys.
I put the key in, and the lock moved, smooth and well-oiled. The hinges were just as quiet, though probably if I had only been human strong I might have had to struggle with the weight of the door. It was meant to withstand battering by bigger things than hands.
I closed it behind me, and locked it, and set the big bar in place. If anyone else was dragging their ass in this late, they were out of luck. But you were usually safe this far after dawn to set the bigger lock in place. The fact that it hadn't been set probably meant Jean-Claude had figured I'd come here for the day.
I passed through the long, silky curtains that formed the walls of the living room. I actually didn't give much attention to the gold and white and silver furniture, or the painting above the faux fireplace. Sleep was the only thing on my mind, now that the outer door was locked.
I went to Jean-Claude's room, but I should have known better. I found him and Asher curled under the sheets. Both of them beautiful in death as in life. Asher's golden waves lay like metallic foam upon a white pillow. His eyes were closed, so I couldn't see his pale blue eyes, like the eyes of a Siberian husky. As pale a blue as Jean-Claude's were a dark blue. Asher lay on his side, so that the unscarred side of his face was up to the light. They'd left a light on for me, probably. Without a light, the room was dark as a cave. No windows. Jean-Claude lay spooning against Asher's back, one arm over the other man's waist, his hand trailing along the scars on the right side of Asher's body. Asher had been the blond beauty to Jean-Claude's brunette once, then some well-meaning church offi
cials had captured him and used holy water to drive the devil out of him. Holy water acts on vampire flesh like acid on ours. Those same officials had burned Asher's human servant and love, Julianna, at the stake. Christianity is a fine religion, but some of the things done in the name of it aren't so nice.
I touched Jean-Claude's face, moved a stray lock of his hair behind one pale shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch, and would just get colder. I kissed Asher's forehead, and it was like kissing the dead. Vampires didn't sleep at dawn, they died. They truly were animated corpses. I just wasn't sure what exactly animated them.
I couldn't sleep in the bed with two corpses. The cooling flesh just creeped me out. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to sleep with a vampire, I mean really sleep. Which left me wondering what bed to use. If there'd been a couch in the room, I would have used it, but there wasn't. Until I'd asked, there hadn't even been chairs. When you've got a bed this big, I guess who wants to sit in a chair?
I walked back out and closed the door softly behind me, not that it would wake them, but just out of habit. I went to Jason's room. I'd bunked with him before. I didn't knock, because I expected everybody to be asleep, and I was right. Jason was curled up tight on the far edge of the bed, his blond hair showing just above the covers. Someone else was curled against his back, and for just a second I thought I'd goofed, and it was a woman, but I knew that spill of auburn hair. Nathaniel was bunking here for the night. Again, not the first time.
They'd left the bathroom light on, with the door opened a crack. I wasn't sure if it was for my benefit, or so Nathaniel would know where he was if he woke in the middle of the night. The first few times I'd woken in absolute darkness in one of these windowless rooms, it had been claustrophobic. I liked a little light.
I'd cleaned the mud off my face in the car with the baby wipes, and once I got my boots and hose off, I was going to be mud-free. It was nearly a miracle that I hadn't fallen down, wearing the heels in the mud. I took off the leather jacket and folded it nicely. There was no chair, so I sat flat on the floor and unzipped the boots and stripped off the hose, putting them against a wall, so no one would stumble over them. The skirt was stiff with dried blood. The fact that none of the vamps in the club had said anything about it said either that they couldn't smell it, or they thought remarking on it would have been too barbaric.
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