At Grave s End

by Jeaniene Frost

  I let out a deep sigh. “This puts our wedding on hold. There’s no way we could expect to pull off a shindig like that with everything going on now. Instead of ‘Here Comes the Bride,’ I’d probably be walking down the aisle to a bunch of ticking noises before a big boom.”

  “I’m sorry, luv,” Bones said. “It wouldn’t be safe, not at this time.”

  Not unless we drive straight to a post office and do the honors there, I thought bleakly, then lashed myself for being childish. So we’d have our wedding another time, big deal. Considering how tonight had almost turned out, a canceled wedding should be the least of my concerns.

  “So who is this Patra chick, anyway?” I asked. “Doesn’t make sense that she’d go to such extremes to help my father murder me…and then let her lackey Talisman offer Tate a deal to get me out of the house before it blew.”

  In the front seat, I saw Mencheres tense even as Bones said, “No, it doesn’t, does it, Grandsire? In fact, while I can think of several reasons why Patra would want you dead, and me as well now that I’ve merged lines with you, I don’t have the slightest idea why she’d come after my wife.”

  Something in his tone made me look sharply at him…and then at the silent vampire in the front seat. There was more going on here than met the eye. The tension grew until you could almost see it like a haze.

  “It was never about Cat,” Mencheres said at last.

  “Excuse me?” Now I was pissed. “When someone tries to see you dead, then it is about you in my book.”

  Mencheres didn’t turn around, but kept staring ahead at the highway. “Then your book would be wrong, because there is another reason to kill you. Max and Calibos believed that Bones didn’t care about you, so they thought they could get away with what they did. But Patra knew Bones loved you. Enough that your death would be a crippling blow to him, which would make him easier to kill later. That’s the only reason she aided Max, because she has no interest in you, Cat. Killing you was just a means to get to Bones.”

  Bones muttered a curse even as I burst out, “But why? What did Bones do to her?”

  Bones’s face was grim. With the soot and ash smeared all over him, he looked very dangerous.

  “I think it’s time you explain, Grandsire.”

  “Everyone envies me my visions,” Mencheres said with bitterness. “You don’t know what it’s like to be asked why, why, why didn’t I see the earthquake coming, or the tsunami, or the volcano, or the plane crash, or whatever tragic event that claims the lives of those around me. I don’t know what makes some things come to me with diamond-sharp clarity, while others are murky, and some are never glimpsed at all. I can only warn what I am sure of…and then wait to see if I’m ignored.”

  I blinked. This was as upset as I’d ever seen Mencheres. His slick-as-ice exterior was seriously cracked, and he looked like he wanted to put his fist through the windshield. Tick Tock cast him an appraising look out of the corner of his eye, no doubt deciding whether or not to pull over.

  “No one is blaming you for what happened tonight,” Bones said in an even tone. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  No, he hadn’t, but he’d done a good job at clouding the issue. Hell, I could barely remember what the question was myself after that outburst. Oh, right, why the really old bitch wanted Bones dead. Focus, Cat!

  “I warned Patra many years ago what would happen if she went down a certain path.” Mencheres’s voice was so low, I had to strain to hear him. “Centuries ago, I saw a vision of a man marrying a woman who was neither human, vampire, nor ghoul, and then the same man wielded the knife that killed Patra. So you see, Bones…as soon as Cat was revealed to be a half-breed and you wed her at Ian’s, Patra knew what I’d told her all those years ago had come to pass. So the only way she can avoid that fate is to kill you.”

  “You son of a bitch.” My voice was a furious growl. “You knew Patra would come after Bones with all she had, but you didn’t warn him. You didn’t do any- thing!”

  “Kitten, infighting won’t solve anything,” Bones said, but he didn’t sound pleased, either. “We have to stick together, else we’ll be doing Patra’s work for her.”

  The logic penetrated that red part of my brain that was thinking, Kill! Kill! toward the vampire in the front seat.

  Mencheres shook his head. “I’ve had guards watching Bones since that night at Ian’s. The only time I didn’t was when you both were carrying out your missions with your uncle. Furthermore, I…I’d hoped when Patra realized I’d been right, that she’d cease her plots against me. But after what happened to you, I knew she was set on her course. And that is why soon afterward, I made my offer of an alliance with Bones. Without it, do you think either of you would have a chance?”

  Hard words. Bones gave Mencheres that same flat stare. “You’re very right I’m going to kill Patra for what she’s done to my wife. No matter if you plead with me not to.”

  “Why the hell would he?” I wondered irritably. “Seems to me she wants him dead, too, or she wouldn’t have just barbecued his home hoping he’d be in it along with you. In fact, oh powerful one, why haven’t you taken her out yourself? Can’t you handle her on your own?”

  Mencheres closed his eyes. It was Bones who answered my question.

  “There’s more about Patra you don’t know. She chose her vampire name in honor of her mother, one of Egypt’s most famous rulers, and merely shortened it when she changed over. Patra is the daughter of Cleopatra, and Mencheres refuses to kill her…because she’s his wife.”

  TWELVE

  M ARQUIS WAS A SWINGERS’ BAR WHERE S&M was in vogue and humans were the minority. To blend in with their anything-goes style, I was posing as the third in a trio with Tate and Dave. Bones was here somewhere, but I hadn’t seen him. It was hard enough for me to disguise who I was without walking in arm-in-arm together.

  Not that we were here for kinky fun and games. Even though we were at war with the undead—the very famous undead, to be precise—I still had a job to do. After the deadly fiasco with Belinda, Don hadn’t found another woman to be a replacement for me as bait yet, and this club was reported to be a place several people had disappeared from. Even though it was getting very difficult trying to juggle my job with all the upheaval in my personal life, work waited for no one. Not even the two-millennia-old daughter of Cleopatra.

  I still had a hard time coming to grips with that, but Bones reminded me that people who were remembered hundreds or even thousands of years after their time were bound to make a lasting impression on their contemporaries. Put like that, I guess it wasn’t such a surprise that some of history’s notables—or their offspring, like Patra—had been changed over by a vampire or ghoul. But Mencheres hadn’t just changed Patra, he’d also married her a mere few years after turning her. Practically a whirlwind courtship, as far as pulseless couples went. And even worse for him was that while he couldn’t bring himself to kill his estranged wife, she sure didn’t seem to have that same hesitation with him.

  To blend in with the Marquis crowd, I’d had a drastic makeover. My hair was streaked with wide black highlights, and my outfit, if it could be called that, looked like a combination of Last Tango in Paris and American Chopper.

  Two black leather circles attached to my breasts by thin metal chains were all that covered me from the waist up. Black leather thong panties were the bottom half, with more chains dangling from my waist in an absurd version of a skirt. Leather-topped thigh-high stockings embedded with spikes doubled as my hosiery, and I wore solid silver high-heeled shoes. All the better to kick the hell out of someone with. I’d gone heavy on the black eye makeup until raccoons and I could pass for cousins. Add numerous chains crisscrossing my arms, and this evening couldn’t end fast enough.

  Dave and Tate were dressed with equal heinousness. More black leather, chains, and whips. Either Don’s staff truly had costumes for all possible occasions on hand, or someone at wardrobe had a lot of explaining to do.


  We were checked for weapons at the door, all our chains notwithstanding. As usual, my silver shoes went overlooked. Hiding a weapon in plain sight had proven to be very effective. I was ushered in with Tate and Dave without anyone guessing a thing. Let the free-for-all begin.

  The three of us surveyed the interior of the club. Even I, who’d seen a lot, blinked at the spectacle around me.

  Couples led each other around by collars, dog-walking style. Every other person had a whip. I almost felt left out. In front of us a domestic dispute was going on. A man backhanded his date so hard, blood pearled at her mouth. My abrupt step forward was put on hold when she moaned in pleasure, asking for another blow.

  Ew. Well, what did I expect? S&M didn’t stand for soft and mushy.

  What almost gave me away as a quasi-normal person was my reaction when I got a look at the dance floor. Random beatings aside, which seemed to be the norm, some humans and their undead companions were giving dirty dancing a whole new name.

  “Wow,” Tate whispered. “They’re fucking right on the dance floor.”

  “I see that.” There was an edge to my words.

  Dave gave me a sideways grin. “Juan will cry at being stuck in the van. If he were here, he’d be screaming, Authenticity’s imperative! and taking his pants down.”

  That relaxed me enough to laugh. “You’re so right. Well, let’s boogey, boys, but keep your pencils in your pockets. We have a job to do.”

  For the next half hour, we grooved while managing to do a sweep of the area at the same time. So far, nothing looked murderous, even if it was nasty and rough.

  I felt a hum of power nearby. Bones had gotten to be so familiar to me that I knew him by aura alone. As casually as I could manage, I glanced over Dave’s shoulder, seeking him out. My eyes widened when I found him.

  Bones was shirtless, those luscious muscles moving under his crystal flesh as he danced. And holy hell, when had he found the time to pierce his nipples? Those rings must be silver; that was the only thing a vampire’s body wouldn’t naturally dispel, but would need to be forced out by willpower instead, which Bones obviously wasn’t doing. Those shiny silver circles drew the eye to his sculpted chest. It took me a minute to even notice his pants, and then I did freeze.

  “Keep moving, Cat,” Dave whispered.

  I picked up where I’d left off, staring over Dave’s shoulder as I danced. Bones’s pants were made entirely of thin metal chains linked together. Skin peeked through the gaps whenever he moved, and anyone could tell he wasn’t wearing anything under them. He caught my eye and grinned, running his tongue over his lip slow enough for me to notice that his nipples weren’t the only thing he’d pierced.

  I was just starting to get warm all over at the thought of how that spike in his tongue would feel, when a brunette jostled around other people to peer up at Bones, her expression one of delighted shock.

  “I don’t believe it, it’s you! Do you remember me? Think Fresno, late eighties. Of course, I was human then. I almost didn’t recognize you with the dark hair, you used to be blond…”

  Bones was giving her a glare that would have frozen steel, but she went on, heedless.

  “…come here before? I’m here all the time, and I can show you the private party area.”

  Bones lost his annoyed look at once and beamed at her. “Priscilla, wasn’t it? Of course I remember you, my lovely. Private area, you say? Show me.”

  Bones let her drag him off to the side. Tate watched, a faintly disgusted curl to his lips.

  “Don’t you get sick of it? How half the women he runs into have had a piece of him?”

  I ignored that and focused on Bones and Priscilla. Bones was telling her I was on the menu for tonight, if that private area was discreet enough for dining.

  “It is,” Priscilla was saying as she ran her hands over him. “I can’t wait to fuck you now that I’m a vampire. You were so amazing before, and it’ll only be better…”

  My teeth ground together. Tate just let out a knowing snort.

  Priscilla pulled Bones’s mouth down to hers next. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. Nor could I leap across the dance floor and pummel her into a mass of goo, which is what I really wanted to do. But if I did, I might as well grab a bullhorn and announce myself. So I watched Bones kiss her with a thoroughness that had my nails ripping into my palms. It’s not real, just like it’s not real when you have to romance targets on a job, I reminded myself.

  But it hurt like it was real, making me wonder how Bones stood it when the situation was reversed and it was me French-kissing and getting feely with other men. At least he grabbed Priscilla’s hand to stop her when the tramp reached for the front of his pants.

  “Soon, sweet, after I’ve eaten,” Bones told her in a sensual purr. “Wouldn’t want to be distracted, would I?”

  Bones propelled her back toward our little group.

  “This is William,” he said with a nod to Dave, still in my arms. “The rest aren’t worthy of names,” he finished, indicating me and Tate.

  Priscilla ran a finger over his chest. “What’s yours? You never did tell me.”

  He brought her hand to his lips. “I’ll tell you afterward.”

  My teeth ground again, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Follow me,” Priscilla said. “This way.”

  His former promiscuity is finally coming in handy, I thought darkly as we approached the entryway into the hidden room. This would have taken time to find on our own.

  It was concealed underneath the unused bar in the far corner. You stepped behind a half wall and lifted the false cabinet to reveal stairs. They traveled down, the noise from the revelers and music masking the sounds below. Something thumped in the room beyond the narrow passage, rising and falling with increasing volume as we approached.

  “Welcome.” Priscilla smiled as she opened the door. “To the real Marquis.”

  The room wasn’t large, but it was filled from top to bottom with unnatural devices of every kind. Manacles hung from the walls, the cuffs attached to them stained with blood. We stepped past benches of a variety I never wanted to know about, straps and buckles worn from repeated use. A wheel? I didn’t even want to guess what that was for.

  The thumping noise we’d heard turned out to be the flogging of a couple tied to one of the welded poles. They were faced away from their tormentor, foreheads smacking into the pole with every blow, and from the looks of them, they weren’t enjoying their punishment.

  The whip master paused in his measured staccato to glance up at us. He was a vampire, roughly two hundred from the feel of his aura.

  “What have you brought me, Priscilla?”

  Another vampire lounged on the nearby couch, drinking from the neck of an unconscious woman on his lap.

  “Guests, Anré,” she said.

  He rested his sherry-colored eyes over me. “I’ll take her. It will be a pleasure to mark her flawless skin.” Next he considered Bones. “You look familiar, have we met?”

  Bones gave him a cold smile. “Not formally, but we did run into each other in London, round 1890, when I was looking for a bloke named Renard. Recall me now? I took his head but left you the rest of him.”

  Anré lowered his whip. Realization bloomed on his features, and then he shot Priscilla a truly evil glare.

  “You idiot, do you know who this is?”

  Priscilla gave Bones a confused look. Her distraction gave me the chance—and the great satisfaction—to knock her down and then ram my silver-heeled shoe right through her heart.

  “She pissed me off for the last time,” I said to no one in particular.

  The vampire on the couch, watching this exchange with alarm, froze over his victim’s neck. I lunged at him next. The girl was snatched from his hands and thrown to Dave while I head-butted the vamp with brutal force. He was stunned for a moment. Just long enough for me to jab the heel of my shoe into his heart and straight out through his back.

  Anré
began to back away, although there was nowhere for him to go. Tate and Dave were behind him, Bones and me in front of him.

  “Please don’t kill me, I have done nothing to you,” he whimpered.

  “Bloody hell, show some dignity. You’re an embarrassment to the race,” Bones chided him.

  “Tate, get the unhappy couple,” I directed him.

  Tate went over to them, slashed his palm, and clapped it across each of their mouths. Soon their welts disappeared. Then he untied them from the pole, herding them well out of the way of the other bodies.

  Anré held out a hand to Bones. “You have no cause to harm me. You want the humans? They’re yours.”

  I shook my head. Wasn’t it always the bullies who feared retaliation the most?

  “You’re afraid of him, but it’s me you need to worry about.”

  I retrieved one of his fallen whips and cracked it for punctuation. Bones had thought I couldn’t handle seeing what he dished out to Max, but I could prove that I wasn’t too squeamish when it came to doing necessary dirty work.

  “Give me the names of your other playmates, Anré. Refuse and, well…you have a lot of mean-looking toys here. Tried any of them out on yourself lately?”

  An hour later I was in possession of a name—Slash. He was here somewhere, scouting out his potential dinner. With all the noise from above, I doubted he even knew what had happened to Anré.

  I made my way through the dancers, seeking a man with the tattoo of a silver dragon along his jaw. Along the way, I was bumped, jostled, and even slapped by an overzealous woman whose partner turned away at the last moment. She didn’t even apologize, either. Just glared at me and snapped, “That wasn’t your gift!”

  “I’ll give it back, then,” I responded, and whacked her a good one. Honestly, whatever happened to saying, Excuse me?

  Someone grabbed me from behind. Cool hands moved over my breasts in a rough caress. I stiffened but didn’t slam my elbow into their rib cage. Not yet.