Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 6-10

by Laurell Hamilton

  Sabin stood about five steps above us. Frightfully close for neither of us to have sensed him. He was dressed as I’d seen him in the office; hooded cloak covering him from head to toe. I could see under the cloak now. There were no feet. He was floating above the step. “I wish you could see the look on your face, Ms. Blake.”

  I swallowed my pulse back into my mouth and said, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, Sabin.”

  Cassandra took a step towards him, a soft growl oozing from her throat. “I don’t know you,” she said.

  “Calm yourself, wolf. I am Jean-Claude’s guest, aren’t I, Ms. Blake?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s a guest.” I stopped pointing the gun at him, but I didn’t put it up. He was awfully damn good to have snuck up on me and a werewolf.

  “You know him?” Cassandra asked. She was still standing above me, blocking the vampire’s path. She was taking this bodyguard thing very seriously.

  “I’ve met him.”

  “He safe?”

  “No,” I said, “but he’s not here to hurt me.”

  “Who is he here to hurt?” Cassandra asked. She still hadn’t given any ground.

  Sabin eased down the steps, cloak billowing around him in an odd motion, like the sleeve of an amputee. “I have come to watch the night’s entertainment, nothing more.”

  Cassandra backed up to stand a step ahead of me. I stood but still kept the gun out. I was jumpier than normal. I was also remembering how Sabin had bled me from a distance with his laughter. Keeping a gun handy seemed like a good idea.

  “Where’s Dominic?”

  “He’s here somewhere.” His hood was a cup of darkness, smooth and empty, but I knew he was watching me. I felt his gaze like a weight.

  He stayed on the step just above Cassandra, two steps above me. “Who is your lovely companion?”

  “Sabin, this is Cassandra; Cassandra, Sabin.”

  A black-gloved hand slid out of the cloak. He reached towards Cassandra as if he’d caress her face.

  She jerked back. “Don’t touch me.”

  His hand froze in midmotion. A stillness washed over him. I’d seen other vampires fill with that utter quietness, but I’d thought it was made up of visual clues. There was no visual from Sabin, but that same emptiness flowed outward. The illusion was almost better this way as if it was just an empty cloak somehow hovering on the stairs.

  His voice came out of that stillness. It was startling. “Is my touch so repulsive?”

  “You smell of sickness and death.”

  Sabin drew his hand back inside his cloak. “I am a visiting master. It is within my rights to ask for a bit of . . . companionship. I could ask for you, wolf.”

  Cassandra growled at him.

  “No one’s forcing anyone into anyone’s bed,” I said.

  “Are you so sure of that, Ms. Blake?” Sabin asked. He floated around Cassandra. The cloak brushed her, and she shuddered.

  I couldn’t smell him; I didn’t have a werewolf’s sense of smell. But I’d seen some of what was under that cloak. It was worth a shudder or two.

  “Cassandra is only on loan to Jean-Claude. She belongs to the pack, so yeah, I’m sure.”

  Cassandra glanced back at me. “You’d protect me?”

  “It’s part of my job description now, isn’t it?”

  She studied my face. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Her voice was soft, the growling like a distant dream. She looked terribly normal except for the outfit.

  “You’ve seen what I am, Ms. Blake. Do you shudder at my touch?”

  I moved down a step until I was on the floor. Better footing than the stairs. “I shook your hand earlier.”

  Sabin floated to the floor. The darkness faded from inside the hood. He pushed it back to reveal that golden hair and that ravaged face.

  Cassandra let out a hiss. She backed up until she hit the banister. I think Sabin could have pulled a gun and shot her right that second, and she wouldn’t have reacted in time.

  He smiled at her. His beautiful mouth pulling the rotted flesh loose. “Have you never seen anything like this?”

  She swallowed hard enough for me to hear, like she was trying not to throw up. “I’ve never seen anything so horrible.”

  Sabin turned back to me. His one eye was still a clear, pure blue, but the other had burst in the socket in a welter of pus and thinner liquid.

  I did my own swallowing. “Your eye was fine yesterday.”

  “I told you it was virulent, Ms. Blake. Did you think I was exaggerating?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  His gloved hand came out of hiding once more. I remembered the way his hand had squished when I shook it yesterday. I did not want him to touch me, but there was a look in his beautiful eye, some pain on what was left of his face, that made me hold still. I wouldn’t flinch. I felt sorry for him, pretty stupid, but true.

  That black glove hovered beside my face, not quite touching me. The Seecamp was forgotten in my hand. Sabin’s fingertips brushed my face. The glove was liquid-filled, like some kind of obscene balloon.

  He stared at me. I stared back. He spread his hand over my lower jaw and pressed. There were solid things inside the glove, thicker pieces, and bone, but it wasn’t a hand anymore. Only the glove gave it shape.

  A small sound crawled out of my throat. I couldn’t stop it.

  “Perhaps I should ask for you?” he said.

  I eased back out of his grip. I was afraid to move too quickly. Afraid that sudden movement might tear off the glove. I did not want to see him spill out in a flood of foul-smelling liquid. He was a horror show enough without that.

  Sabin didn’t try to hold me; maybe he was afraid of the same thing.

  “Are you abusing my hospitality again?” Jean-Claude said. He stood on the dance floor, looking at Sabin. His eyes were pure blue light. His skin had gone pale and smooth like carved marble.

  “You have not yet shown me true hospitality, Jean-Claude. It is customary to offer me companionship.”

  “I didn’t think there was enough of you left to have such needs,” Jean-Claude said.

  Sabin grimaced. “It is a cruel illness. Not all of my body has rotted away. The need remains, though the vessel is so grotesque that no one will touch me, not by choice.” He shook his head, and the skin split on one side. Something black and thicker than blood oozed down the side of his face.

  Cassandra made a small sound. My bodyguard was about to be sick. Maybe it smelled bad to her.

  “If one of my people angers me enough while you are in my territory, you may have them. But I cannot give someone to you just because you wish it. Not everyone’s sanity would survive it.”

  “There are days, Jean-Claude, when my own sanity is in doubt.” Sabin looked from Cassandra to me. “It would break your wolf, I think. But your servant, I think she would survive.”

  “She is off limits to you, Sabin. If you abuse my hospitality with such an insult, council edict or no council edict, I will destroy you.”

  Sabin turned to him. The two vampires stared at each other. “There was a time, Jean-Claude, when no one spoke to me like that, no one short of the council.”

  “That was before,” Jean-Claude said.

  Sabin sighed. “Yes, before.”

  “You are free to enjoy the show, but do not tempt me again, Sabin. I have no sense of humor where ma petite is concerned.”

  “You share her with a werewolf but not with me.”

  “That is our business,” Jean-Claude said, “and we will never speak of this again. If we do, it will be a challenge between us, and you are not up to it.”

  Sabin gave a half bow, hard to get the leverage for it without legs. “You are Master of the City. Your word is law.” The words were correct. The tone was mocking.

  Liv came up to stand behind and to one side of Jean-Claude. “It is time to open the doors, Master.” I think that last was deliberate. Jean-Claude usually chastised his flock for calling him master. />
  Jean-Claude said, “Everyone to their places then.” His voice sounded strangled.

  “I will find a table,” Sabin said.

  “Do so,” Jean-Claude said.

  Sabin raised the hood back into place. He glided back up the stairs, headed for the tables on the upper level. Or maybe he’d just float in the rafters.

  “My apologies, ma petite. I believe the sickness has progressed to his mind. Be wary of him. Cassandra is needed for the show. Liv will remain with you.”

  I looked at the tall vampire. “She won’t take a bullet for me.”

  “If she fails me, I will give her to Sabin.”

  Liv paled, which is a neat trick for a vampire, even one that’s fed. “Master, please.”

  “Now I believe she’ll take a bullet for me,” I said. If the choices were sleeping with Sabin or getting shot, I’d take the bullet. From the look on Liv’s face, she agreed.

  Jean-Claude left to make his entrance.

  Cassandra met my eyes. She wasn’t just pale, she was green. She jerked her gaze from mine as if afraid of what I’d see. “I am sorry, Anita.” She went for the door she’d first entered through. She seemed embarrassed. Guess I couldn’t blame her.

  Cassandra had failed the bodyguard test. She was a powerful lycanthrope, but Sabin had totally unnerved her. She’d have probably been just fine if the vampire had tried violence, but he’d just stood there and rotted at her. What do you do when the monsters start being piteous?

  The doors opened, and the crowd flowed in like a tidal wave, spilling in a wash of thunderous noise. I slipped the gun back into the purse but didn’t shut it.

  Liv was at my elbow. “Your table is over here.” I went with her because I didn’t want to be alone in the jostling crowd. Besides, she was suddenly taking my safety very seriously. Couldn’t blame her. Sabin’s diseased body was a wonderful threat.

  I’d have felt better if I hadn’t believed Jean-Claude would do it. But I knew better. He’d give Liv to Sabin. He really would. There was a look in the vampire’s eyes that said she knew it, too.

  16

  * * *

  THE table was the largest of a string of small, black lacquer tables. It blended nearly perfectly with the black walls. My dress matched the decor. I was really going to have to look into something in a different color scheme. The table was set away from the wall, near the railing so that the growing crowd couldn’t block my view of the dance floor. It also meant that my back was exposed. I had scooted my chair so that the wall was at my back, but I was very aware that the edge of the railing curved around on my right side, so that someone could walk up and shoot me, relatively hidden from anyone else.

  Of course, Liv was with me. She stood at my back, arms crossed over her stomach. All she needed was a sign over her head that flashed bodyguard.

  Admittedly, my purse was open. The gun was within reach, and it was tempting to put it in my lap. I was spooked, but that wasn’t the point. We had a plan. The plan did not include the assassin being scared away.

  I touched Liv’s arm.

  She bent down.

  “You’re supposed to be unobtrusive.”

  She looked puzzled. “I’m supposed to keep you safe.”

  “Then sit down and pretend to be my friend. The trap won’t work if I look like I’m being guarded.”

  She knelt by me; too far to bend down, I suppose. “I will not risk being given to Sabin. I don’t care if your assassin knows I’m here or not.”

  It was hard to blame her, but I was willing to make the effort. I leaned into her. “Look, either work with the program, or get away from me.”

  “I obey Jean-Claude, not his strumpet.”

  As far as I could remember, I’d never done anything in my life to deserve being called a strumpet. “Jean-Claude said if you failed him, he’d give you to the rotting corpse, right?”

  Liv nodded. Her eyes searched the crowd behind me. She really was trying to do the job, and the effort showed.

  “He didn’t say you’d be punished if I got hurt, did he?”

  Liv’s eyes flicked to me. “What are you saying?”

  “If you scare away the hitter and spoil the plan, that’s failure.”

  She shook her head. “No, that’s not what he meant.”

  “He said never to fail him again.”

  I watched her try to work out the logic. I was betting that logic wasn’t one of her strong points.

  “Clever, Anita, but if you get killed, Jean-Claude will punish me. You know he will.”

  I was wrong. She was a lot smarter than she looked. “But if you spoil our plan, he’ll punish you anyway.”

  Fear flashed through her eyes. “I’m trapped.”

  I felt sorry for her. Pity for two monsters—no three—in one night. I was losing my edge. “If I don’t get killed, I’ll make sure you don’t get punished.”

  “You swear it?” She said the phrase like it meant more. Giving your oath was not a casual thing to her. A lot of vampires came from times when a man’s or a woman’s word was their bond.

  “I give you my word.”

  She stayed kneeling for a moment longer, then stood. “Try not to get killed.” She moved into the crowd, leaving me on my own, like I’d asked.

  The rest of the tables filled up quickly. The crowd spilled around the edges of the room on the raised area around the dance floor. So many people stood at the fenced edges that if the table had been by the wall, I’d have lost my view of the dance floor. Under other circumstances, I’d have appreciated the thoughtfulness. Another bodyguard could come along at any time. I was ready for some company.

  The crowd filled the two levels above, standing room only. I looked for Sabin’s dark cloak, but didn’t see him. The main dance floor was untouched. The way to the floor was barred by half a dozen vampires. They had quietly but firmly motioned everybody back to the sides of the room. Both male and female were dressed nearly identically, black lycra pants, boots, and black fishnet shirts. The women wore black bras under their shirts, but that was the only difference. I approved. Short little skirts or hot pants for the women would have pissed me off. The thought occurred that maybe Jean-Claude had dressed them with me in mind. He knew me too well in some ways and didn’t have a clue in others.

  I scanned the crowd for Edward and for anything suspicious, but it was hard to pick out any one person in the jostling, laughing crowd. I couldn’t spot Edward. I had to just trust that he was there somewhere. And although I did trust him to be there, the tightness in my chest didn’t ease.

  Edward had cautioned me to be casual, not to look suspicious. Outwardly, I was trying. Inwardly, I was almost dizzy searching the crowd and that painful empty spot to the right and almost behind me where the railing went. I put my hands in my lap and forced myself to look down. If the assassin came now, I wouldn’t be looking, but I had to get hold of myself. If I didn’t, I was going to be so busy jumping at shadows, I wouldn’t be ready when the real thing came. I was beginning to wish I’d let Liv stay.

  I took deep, even breaths, in and out, concentrating on the rhythm of my own body. When I could hear the blood flowing inside my head, I raised my face slowly. I stared calmly out at the crowd and the dance floor. I felt empty, distant, calm. Much better.

  A vampire came up to the railing in front of my table. Willie McCoy was dressed in a suit so horribly green it could only be called chartreuse. Green shirt, and a wide tie with Godzilla crushing Tokyo on it. No one would ever accuse Willie of matching any decor.

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Willie had been one of the first vampires to ever cross that line from monster to friend. He scooted one of the chairs around so his back was to the open space. He sat down like he hadn’t done it on purpose. I didn’t have to pretend to be happy to see him.

  He had to lean a bit into me to be heard over the crowd’s rising murmur. I could smell the sweet scent of the goop he used to slick back his short hair. Him being this close didn’t even make me
tense. I trusted Willie more than I trusted Jean-Claude.

  “How ya doing, Anita?” He grinned enough to show fang. Willie hadn’t been dead three years yet. He was one of the few vamps I’d known before and after death.

  “I’ve been better,” I said.

  “Jean-Claude said we were to bodyguard you, but to keep it casual. We’ll drift in and out. But you looked spooked.”

  I shook my head, smiling. “That obvious?”

  “To someone who knows ya, yeah.”

  We smiled at each other. Looking into Willie’s face from inches away, I realized that he was on my list. The list that Stephen was on. If someone killed Willie, I’d hunt them down. It surprised me to realize that any vamp had made the list. But Willie had, and come to think of it, I guess, so had one other vampire.

  Jean-Claude appeared on the far side of the club. Speak of the devil. A spotlight hit him from somewhere. It had to be coming from a fly loft, but it was hidden away so that it was hard to tell. A perfect place for a high-powered rifle. Stop it, Anita. Stop tormenting yourself.

  I hadn’t truly realized how crowded the opening would be. Edward by himself searching for one lone assassin in this mass of people would have been poor odds. Maybe the vamps and werewolves were amateurs, but their extra eyes couldn’t hurt.

  The lights began dimming until the only illumination was the spotlight on Jean-Claude. He seemed to glow. I wasn’t sure if it was a trick or if he was making his own light from the skin outward. Hard to tell. Whichever, I was in the dark with an assassin, maybe, and I was not a happy camper.

  Hell with it. I put the Seecamp in my lap. Better. Not perfect, but better. The fact that just the touch of a gun in my hand made me feel better was probably a bad sign. The fact that I missed my own guns was a worse one.

  Willie touched my shoulder and made me jump enough that people near us glanced back. Shit.

  He whispered, “I got your back covered. Easy.”

  Willie would make great cannon fodder, but he wasn’t up to protecting me. He’d been a bit player before he died, and dying hadn’t changed that. I realized if the shooting started and the bad guys were using silver bullets, I was worried about Willie. Worrying about your bodyguard is not good.