"You are quite right, necromancer," Serephina said. "We are all mortal in this room. Vampires can live a long, long time. It makes us forget that we are mortal. But immortality eludes even us."
It wasn't a question, and I agreed with everything she said, so I just looked at her.
"Janos told me you had an aura of power, necromancer. He said he used it against you as he would another vampire. I did it just now when I slashed your hand. I have never known a human that could be harmed so."
"I don't know what you mean about an aura of power."
"It is what allowed you to slip my magic. No human could have withstood me, and few vampires."
"Glad I could do something to impress you."
"I never said I was impressed, necromancer."
I shrugged. "Fine, maybe you don't give a damn about humans, or keeping a low profile. I don't know about your council, or what they'll do to you for not helping us. But I do know what I'll do."
"What are you babbling about, human?"
"I am the vampire executioner for this state. Xavier and his crew took a young boy. I want him back, alive. You help me get him back alive, or I go to the courts and get a death warrant on you."
"Jean-Claude, talk to her, or I will kill her."
"She has the weight of human law behind her, Serephina."
"What is human law to us?"
"The council says that it rules us as it rules the humans. Refusing the human laws is the same as breaking with the council."
"I don't believe you."
"You can taste the truth of my words. I could never lie to you, not two hundred years ago, not now." His voice was very calm, very sure.
"When did this new law go into effect?"
"When the council saw the benefit of being mainstream. They want the money, the power, the freedom to walk the streets in safety. They don't want to hide anymore, Serephina."
"You believe what you say; that much is true," she said. She looked down at me, and the weight of that gaze even with me looking away was like a giant hand mashing me down. I stayed on my feet, but it was an effort. You should bow down to such power. Grovel before it. Worship it.
"Stop it, Serephina," I said. "Cheap mind tricks won't work, and you know it." The cold lump in my stomach wasn't so sure.
"You fear me, human. I can taste it on the back of my tongue."
Oh, goody. "Yeah, you scare me. You probably scare everybody in this room. So what?"
She drew herself up to every inch of her tall, thin frame. Her voice was suddenly soft, breathing down my skin like fur. "I will show you."
She gestured outward with one gloved hand. I tensed, waiting for another cut, but it never came. A scream cut the air and whirled me around.
Blood ran down Ivy's face. Another cut appeared on her bare arm. Two more on her face. Long, slicing wounds with every gesture that Serephina made.
Ivy shrieked. "Serephina, please!" She fell to her knees among the bright cushions, one hand outstretched towards the master vampire. "Serephina, master, please."
Serephina walked around her, one gliding movement at a time. "If you had held your temper, they would all be ours now. I knew their hearts, their minds, their deepest fears. We would have broken them all. They would have broken the truce and we could have feasted on them to our blood's content."
She was almost even with me. I wanted to move back away from her, but she might see it as a sign of weakness. Her dress brushed my leg, and I didn't care. I did not want her to touch me. I moved back, and she caught my wrist. I hadn't even seen her move.
I stared at that silk-gloved hand as if a snake had just coiled around my wrist. Hell, I'd have rather had the snake.
"Come, necromancer; help me punish this bad vampire."
"No, thanks," I said. My voice sounded shaky. It matched the fluttering in my gut. She hadn't done anything to me yet except touch me, but touch makes all powers stronger. If she tried a mind trick now, I was finished.
"Ivy would have taken great delight in your pain, necromancer."
"That's her problem, not mine." I was staring very hard at the silky cloth of Serephina's dress. I had a terrible urge to look upward, to meet her eyes. I didn't think it was her power, just my own morbid compulsion. It's hard to be tough when you're staring at someone's body and being led around by the hand like a child.
Ivy lay on the floor, half-propped on her arms. Her lovely face was a mass of deep cuts. Bone gleamed in the candlelight from one cheek. Her right arm had a cut that showed muscle twitching and bloody.
Ivy stared up at me, and behind the pain was a hatred strong enough to light a match. The anger rose from her in slapping waves.
Serephina knelt beside her, drawing me down with her. I glanced back at Jean-Claude. Janos had a white spider-hand on his chest. Larry mouthed the word "gun." I shook my head. She hadn't hurt me yet. Not yet.
The hand jerked my arm hard enough to wrench my head around to face her. We were eye to eye, suddenly, horribly. What I saw in her eyes wasn't horrible. Her eyes, which I would have sworn were some pale shade, looked solid wood brown. My mother's eyes.
I think she meant for it to be comforting, or seductive. It wasn't. My skin went cool with fear. "Stop it."
"You don't want me to stop," she said.
I tried to pull my arm out of her grasp. I might as well have tried to move the sun to a different part of the sky. "All you can offer me is death. My dead mother in your dead eyes." I stared into those brown eyes that I never thought to see this side of heaven. I yelled at my mother's eyes, because I couldn't look away. Serephina wouldn't let me, and I couldn't fight her on that, not while she touched me.
"You're a walking corpse, and everything else is just lies."
"I am not dead, Anita." There was an echo of my mother's voice in her words. She raised her other hand as if to caress my cheek.
I tried to close my eyes. Tried to look away. I couldn't. A strange paralysis was sliding over my body, like the feeling you get just on the edge of sleep when your body weighs a thousand pounds and every movement is nearly impossible.
That hand came for me in slow motion, and I knew if she touched me I would fall into her arms. I would cling to her and cry.
I remembered my mother's face the last time I'd seen her. The coffin had been dark wood covered in a blanket of pink roses. I knew Mommy was in there, but they wouldn't let me see. No one could see. Closed coffin, they said, closed coffin. Every adult in my life was having hysterics. The room was full of screams, sobbing. My father collapsed to the floor. He was useless to me. I wanted my mother. The latches on the coffin were silver. I opened them, and I heard a cry behind me. I didn't have much time. The lid was heavy, but I shoved it upward and it moved. I got a glimpse of white satin, and shadows. I raised my arms over my head with every ounce of strength and got a glimpse of something.
My Aunt Mattie grabbed me back. The lid clanged shut, and she snapped the lock back in place, dragging me away. I didn't struggle; I'd seen enough. It was like looking at one of those pictures that you know must look like something, but your eyes can't make sense of it. It took me years to make sense of it. But what I saw wasn't my mother. Couldn't be my beautiful mother. It had been a husk, something left behind. Something to hide in a dark box and let rot.
I opened my eyes, and Serephina had pale grey eyes. I pulled my wrist from her suddenly loose grasp and said, "Pain helps."
I stood and stepped away from her, and she didn't stop me. Which was good, because I was shaking all over, and it wasn't from the vampire. Memories have teeth, too.
She stayed kneeling by Ivy, and said, "Most impressive, necromancer. I will help you find this boy you seek."
Her sudden cooperation was unnerving. "Why?"
"Because since I attained my full powers, no one has ever slipped my illusions twice in one night. No one living or dead."
She grabbed Ivy by one bloody arm and pulled her into her lap to bleed on the white dress. Ivy gasped. "Remember thi
s, young master vampire: This mortal did what you could not. She stood against me and won." She tossed her suddenly away, sending her sprawling across the floor. "You are not worthy of my sight. Get out."
Serephina stood. The fresh blood stood out in scarlet relief against her white dress and gloves. "You have impressed us. Now go, all of you." She turned and walked back to her throne. She didn't sit down. She stood with her back to us, one hand on the chair arm. Perhaps it was my imagination, but she seemed tired. Her ghosts flowed down to meet her in a swirling white mist. There weren't as many individual shapes as before, as if the phantoms had lost some of their solidity.
"Go," she said without turning around.
The back door was open, but Jean-Claude walked to the doorway that led out the front. I wasn't going to argue. I just wanted out. I didn't give a damn which door we took.
We walked coolly, calmly towards the door. I wanted to run. Larry stood next to me, and I could see the pulse in his throat jumping with the effort not to bolt. Jason reached the door a little ahead of us, but he waited and turned and motioned us through like a doorman, or a butler.
I caught a glimpse of his eyes, too wide, scared, and knew what the gesture had cost him. We went through; he followed. Jean-Claude brought up the rear. The doors slammed behind us, and we walked out. Just like that.
But for the first time I knew that I'd been let go. I hadn't fought my way out, or bluffed my way out. She could be impressed all she wanted, but she had allowed us to go. Being allowed to leave was not the same thing as winning.
I would never go back into that house voluntarily. I would never be near her willingly. Because I'd been impressive tonight, but I couldn't keep it up. Even now I knew that she could have me. This vampire had my ticket. Had a lie almost worth my immortal soul.
Damn.
28
Jason walked past me into the hotel room. He headed straight for the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower." It was pushy, but he did smell like a decayed corpse. We'd driven back with all the windows rolled down. Most of the time if you stink, you can't smell someone else. I had some of the rotted stuff on me, but I could still smell Jason. Some smells are too unique to ever really go away.
"Wait," Larry said.
Jason turned, but not like he was happy.
"Use my shower." He held up a hand before I could say anything. "It's an hour until dawn. If we want everybody tucked in before that, it makes sense to use both bathrooms."
"I thought we'd all sleep in this room tonight," I said.
"Why?" he asked.
Jean-Claude stood by the love seat looking lovely and unhelpful. Jason just looked impatient.
"Safety in numbers," I said.
Larry shook his head. "Alright, but I can take the werewolf next door and let him shower. Or don't you trust me to even do that?" He was getting angry again.
"I trust you, Larry. You did good tonight."
I expected a smile. I didn't get it. He looked very serious. "I killed that vampire Bruce."
I nodded. "I thought we were going to have to kill everything in the room."
"So did I." He sank into one of the chairs. "I've never killed anyone before."
"It was a vampire. It's not the same thing as killing a person."
"Yeah, right. And how many corpses have you given CPR to lately?"
I glanced at Jean-Claude smiling at me. I shrugged. "Just one. Can you give us some privacy here?" I asked.
"I will hear what you are saying no matter where I stand in this room," Jean-Claude said.
"Illusion is all; just back off," I said.
Jean-Claude bowed his head slightly and took Jason to one side of the room, near the windows. I knew he'd hear everything, but at least he wouldn't be standing over us.
"You don't really believe he's dead, do you?" Larry asked.
"You saw what happened to those two vampires," I said. "They are just rotting corpses; everything else is illusion."
"You think he ever looks like that?"
I looked at Jean-Claude's back for a minute. "I'm afraid I do."
"How can you date him after seeing that?"
I shook my head. "I don't know."
"Corpse or not, you tried to keep him alive." He reacted to the look on my face. "Alive, undead, whatever you want to call it, you tried to preserve it. You were scared he was really dead."
I just looked at him. "So?"
"So, I killed another living being, or undead being. Hell, Anita, Bruce was so newly dead he seemed human."
"Probably why one bullet to the chest finished him."
"How am I supposed to feel about that?"
"Killing him, you mean?"
"Yeah."
"They are monsters, Larry. Some of them are prettier than others, but they are monsters. Never doubt that."
"You can honestly tell me that you think Jean-Claude is a monster." It was more statement than question.
I almost looked at the monster in question, but I didn't. I'd looked at him enough for one night. "Yeah, I do."
"Now, ask her if she thinks she's a monster." Jean-Claude leaned on the back of the love seat, his arms crossed over his chest.
Larry looked a little startled, but he said, "Anita?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes."
Jean-Claude smiled. "See, Lawrence? Anita thinks we're all monsters."
"Larry's not," I said.
"Give him time."
That was a little too close to the truth. "I asked for privacy, or did you forget?"
"I forget nothing, ma petite, but time grows short. My wolf is not the only one that needs a bath. Only our young friend is still fresh."
I looked at Larry. There wasn't a drop of blood on him. He was the only one who hadn't wrestled with vampires tonight. He shrugged. "Sorry; I just couldn't get anybody to bleed on me tonight."
"Don't joke, Larry," I said. "With Serephina I think you'll get another chance."
"Sadly, true, ma petite."
"How long can you go without a coffin?" I asked.
He smiled. "Concern over my well-being. I am touched."
"Don't give me crap. I opened a freaking vein for you tonight."
"If I have not thanked you for saving my life tonight, ma petite, my apologies."
I looked at him. He looked pleasant, amused, but it was a mask. His expression when he didn't want you to know what he was thinking, but didn't want you to know that he didn't want you to know. "Don't mention it."
"I will remember that you saved me, ma petite. You could have been free of me. Thank you."
It sounded sincere enough. "You're welcome."
"I need to get this crud off me," Jason said. He sounded just a touch frantic. I was betting he'd be trying to scrub off more than just dirt. But memories don't wash that easily. More's the pity.
"Go on, both of you. Jason can scrub up in Larry's room. It's only practical."
Larry grinned at me. "Thanks."
"I meant it when I said you did good tonight."
I finally got the smile I'd expected. "Come on, Jason, hot water and fresh towels await." Larry held the door for Jason and gave me a little salute. Geez.
Alone again with Jean-Claude. Would this night never end? "You never answered my question about the coffin," I said.
"I will be alright for another night or two."
"How did Serephina go from being your equal in power to being what we saw tonight?"
He shook his head. "I truly do not know, ma petite. She surprised me badly. She did not have to let us go tonight. As long as she did not harm us, we could have been her guests for the day."
"Are you surprised she let us go?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
Jean-Claude pushed away from the love seat. "Take your shower, ma petite. I will await the young men's return."
"I thought you could go next, wash the blood out of your hair."
He put a hand up to the back of his hair. He grimaced at the feel of it. "Distasteful, but I want a bat
h, ma petite. It takes longer than a shower, so you go first."
I looked at him for a long moment.
"If you do not hurry, I will not have time for a bath before dawn. I would hate to sleep on your clean sheets covered in blood."
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine; just be sure you stay out of the bathroom."
"My word of honor that I will not barge in on you."
"Yeah, right." Though, strangely enough, I believed him. Jean-Claude had been trying to seduce me for a long time. A frontal assault just wasn't his style. I went to take my shower.
29
Ronnie had dragged me into Victoria's Secret. I had pointed out that no one would see my underwear or my nightclothes except other women in the gym locker room. Ronnie had replied, "You'll see them." The logic escaped me but she had talked me into a robe.
It was burgundy, the color of wine-dark peonies. It glowed against my pale skin and matched some of the bruises blossoming on my back. Nothing like getting thrown into a wall to give you a little color. The bite mark on my back wasn't very deep. Hard for humanoid fangs to sink in from that angle. The fang marks on my wrist were deeper. They were two neat little holes, almost dainty. It didn't hurt as much as it should have. Maybe vampires did have painkillers in their saliva, or maybe it was the fangs.
I still couldn't believe that I'd let him sink fangs into me. Shit.
I pulled the robe closer around me. The material was heavy enough to be cozy on a winter evening, and had wide silky cuffs, and more silk lining the edges. It looked vaguely Victorian, a little masculine. I looked delicate in it, like a Victorian doll that hadn't gotten completely dressed yet. I put on an oversized black t-shirt under the robe. It ruined some of the effect, but it beat the heck out of wearing nothing but a robe and underwear out to greet the boys.
I retrieved the Browning from the back of the stool where it had sat during my shower. I carried it with me to the bedroom, and hesitated. I always went armed. Hell, I slept with a gun, but I didn't feel like slipping on a holster. I put the Browning away and settled for slipping the Firestar into the robe pocket. Made the cloth hang funny, but if something nasty came through the door I was ready for it.
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