At Grave s End

by Jeaniene Frost

  Bones stood. “I do. And he’s not alone.”

  I rolled my eyes. Great. Guess we’d better call that new Italian place. Time to break in their driver’s neck…and Denise and I could sample the chicken parm.

  “Who’s with him?” I asked.

  Bones gave an irritated growl. “It’s the bloody show hound.”

  That made Ian laugh. “Indeed? This should prove to be an interesting night, after all.”

  Unlike Ian, Spade didn’t seem amused by the news. “Why would he bring him, Crispin? He knows the two of you don’t care for each other.”

  “Not to mention I don’t like him knowing where I live.” Muttered as Bones began to pace. “But he loathes Patra even more than he hates me. My enemy’s enemy is my friend and all that rot.”

  “Who?” I repeated. “Do I know him?”

  Bones snorted. “You know who he is.”

  The sound of a helicopter approaching staved off further conversation. Minutes later, the grind of metal on concrete announced the landing of our uninvited guests.

  Mencheres and another vampire stepped out of the chopper. Bones welcomed his grandsire with a hug, but gave the other man only a cool nod.

  Bones is wrong, I don’t know him, I thought as I looked at the unfamiliar vampire. He was about six feet, with an angular face framed by long brown hair and a tight beard. A wide, pale forehead set off deep-set eyes. He wasn’t handsome in the classic sense, but his looks were striking. I would have remembered him if we’d met before.

  Scars crisscrossed the hand he extended to me. “You must be the Red Reaper.”

  He had an odd accent and his greeting wasn’t “hello, how do you do?” typical, but I’d heard worse. “You have me at a disadvantage,” I replied, shaking his hand.

  Power sizzled up my arm. Whoever he was, he was a Master. And several hundred years old, at my guess.

  “I rather doubt that.” As he gave me the same evaluating stare I was giving him.

  “Stop undressing her with your eyes,” Bones snapped. “Though you weren’t at the wedding, I’m certain you’re aware that she’s my wife.”

  The stranger laughed. He had unusual eyes, I noticed. Copper-colored and ringed with emerald. “My invitation must have been lost in the international mail.”

  Bones ignored that. “Mencheres, I hope there’s a reason you brought him?”

  “He has information,” Mencheres said before turning to me. “Ah, Cat. Pleasure to see you again.”

  After all this time, you’d think I’d have known better, but Can’t say the same was my first thought.

  Bones gave me a look. I grimaced. It just flew out! Truth be told, I didn’t know why I always had a knee-jerk reaction of dislike with Mencheres. Maybe we’d been enemies in a former life. By now, I’d believe anything.

  Mencheres didn’t comment on my uncouth version of “long time no see,” so I tried for something polite out loud.

  “Mencheres. Hi.”

  “Let’s get this over with,” Bones grumbled, turning to the other vampire. “Kitten, this is Vlad.”

  A bark of laughter escaped me before I could stuff it back. Jeez, someone had issues. “Not too original. You’re the dozenth Vlad I’ve come across.”

  His thin lips curled. “I rather doubt they came by their names at birth as I did.”

  I waited for the punch line, but it didn’t come. Bones still had that annoyed but serious expression on his face, and with growing awareness, I saw that none of the other vampires were laughing.

  Finally I found my voice. “You’re Dracula? You have got to be shitting me!”

  While I was busy being flabbergasted, the other undead guests said hello. Vlad was greeted with tempered courtesy by everyone except for Annette. She gave him a kiss on the mouth that had me shaking my head at her.

  Oh, Dracula as well, Annette? I guess if Frankenstein and the Wolf Man were real, they’d already have double-teamed you.

  A wheeze came out of Mencheres. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said it was a laugh.

  Bones gave me another “watch your thoughts, for bloody sake” look. I redirected my observations about Annette’s sexual history to the undead legend in front of me.

  “Dracula. When I was sixteen and trying to learn anything I could about vampires, I read a lot about you. Bram Stoker almost made you sound nice, because the historical record paints you with a much nastier brush.”

  Bones lost his frown at once and gave me an approving grin. I rolled my eyes. So it’s okay to insult him, just not Annette? Hypocrite.

  “I don’t answer to that name, and you shouldn’t be so quick to believe everything you read. Recorded history’s nothing if not fickle. I wonder what it will have to say of you, Catherine?”

  “My name is Cat,” I corrected him at once. “You remember mine and I’ll get yours right.”

  After further introductions were made, we settled in the family room. Yes, the living room would have been nicer, but I wanted comfortable surroundings while plotting to murder one famed historical figure with another one. Vlad took the chair nearest me, situating himself as if it were a throne. He gave Bones an arch little smile that made me think he’d done it just to piss Bones off, which it had. Bones took his place beside me on the couch and clasped my hand, pointedly.

  Despite the circumstances, the ten-year-old child inside me wanted to pepper Vlad with questions. Who’s buried in the church by your castle? Did you really nail turbans onto the heads of the sultan’s emissaries when they refused to take them off? When did you become a vampire—before or after you supposedly drank glasses of blood on a battlefield as you dined among the men you’d impaled?

  “A peasant of similar height. Yes. After, and it was red wine I drank.”

  Motherfucker, I thought before slamming my mind shut. Another one.

  “Impressive.” Vlad flicked his gaze from me to Bones. “I wonder where she learned to develop such exceptional mental shields? Have you been hiding something, young man?”

  “Don’t come into my home and patronize me, you crusty old bat. You’re a guest, so behave as one.”

  “Vlad…” There was a touch of reprimand in Mencheres’s voice. More interesting was that Vlad responded to it with a conciliatory flick of his fingers.

  “Yes, right. I promised to set our differences aside for the greater good and that’s why I’m here. You know I don’t like you, Bones, and you don’t like me. In fact, if Patra had sided against you without also crossing Mencheres, I might be sitting with her now.”

  Bones shrugged. “And if it weren’t for Mencheres, you and I would have danced a long time ago. But Mencheres holds you in high esteem and he must have a reason for it, so I’ll trust his judgment that you’re not the worthless sod I think you are.”

  I blinked. Talk about an uneasy truce.

  Mencheres stood. His courtly manners made him seem harmless, but I knew looks were deceiving. In a fight, I was betting he’d be terrifying.

  “Bones, I was shocked to hear Patra used magic against Cat. It’s forbidden for vampires to practice magic, as you’re aware. But we do have an advantage. Utilizing such a spell will weaken Patra for days, which gives us time to strike back at her, if we can find her. Vlad has information on where one of her people might be.”

  Bones turned a cold gaze to Vlad, who just grinned at him.

  “Never thought you’d need something from me, did you?”

  “You’ve already made up your mind whether you’re going to tell me or not, so either spit it out or rack off,” Bones replied shortly.

  Vlad’s eyes flicked to me, and then, oddly, to Tate.

  “I can smell his lust for Cat. He doesn’t even try to hide it. Pisses you off a great deal to have someone in your line openly lusting after your wife, doesn’t it?”

  “Hey, just a minute,” I began, even as Bones raised a brow and snapped, “Your point?” to Vlad.

  That thin-lipped grin widened. “I’m getting to it.”

>   SIXTEEN

  S ANTA LOOKS LIKE HE’S BEEN HITTING MORE than the eggnog, I thought as I strolled by the mix of people waiting in line to get a picture with ol’ Saint Nick. Right now, a nip or two of the hard stuff sounded good to me, too.

  Tate tightened his arm around me. It still felt wrong not to pull away, but I didn’t. I leaned into him and smiled instead. Weren’t we the perfect picture of a happy couple?

  “You’re so beautiful,” Tate whispered, nuzzling my cheek. His mouth slid until it covered my own.

  With my job, it was standard operating procedure to kiss undead targets. Hey, when playing a horny chick trying to get a guy alone, that was expected. But Tate wasn’t a target, or a stranger, or someone who’d end up dead by the end of the night.

  Unless, of course, Bones lost his temper and killed him before this charade was over.

  Tate’s mouth was cool over mine, but getting warmer by the contact with my heated flesh. He wasn’t a bad kisser, either, I couldn’t help but notice, even though he’d kept things respectable by not slipping me any tongue. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I was kissing my friend. Tried to treat this like any other job, but I was failing.

  I pulled away, a little too abruptly than my act as his date would have warranted.

  “Um…I want some cotton candy,” I blurted.

  Tate lowered his head to whisper one word near my ear.

  “Chicken.”

  He was right. If this was just another job, I wouldn’t have thought twice about faking a little passion, French-kissing the fangs off him, or even grabbing his ass to make things appear more authentic. But this was Tate, so the objectivity I normally had was gone. Aside from my own lack of personal detachment, at any minute, I kept expecting Bones to leap out of a corner and rip Tate’s head off.

  Yeah, Vlad had a point. No one would ever think Bones would tolerate me wandering around a carnival making out with the man he hated.

  Above us, kids screamed in delight as the Mad Hatter ride whirled them even faster. The Tilt-A-Whirl off to our left had similar squeals coming from it. Add that to the other rides, the countless conversations from people, Christmas songs blaring, metal grinding of the machines, and it made for a continuous chaos of sound around us.

  Somewhere in the midst of this carnival, according to Vlad, was Anthony, one of Patra’s henchmen. Anthony had a thing for Christmas carnivals. Enough not to have the good sense to stay away from them during a war. Then again, everyone thought it was someone else who’d get nabbed, sold out, followed, or killed. I was guilty of that myself. I hadn’t imagined Max would be waiting for me at my mother’s. So who was I to throw stones at Anthony for assuming no one would know what carnival he chose to visit tonight?

  Hell, maybe Anthony wouldn’t show up, and this was just Vlad’s idea of a funny trick to play on Bones. To say Bones hadn’t liked the idea of me playing Tate’s girlfriend was to put it mildly. Bones had muttered a string of curses that raised even my brows, then said something along the lines of “Looks like Christmas came early for you, wanker” to Tate when he finally agreed it was the perfect ruse.

  Of course, Vlad’s intentions tonight could be more sinister, too. Mencheres didn’t seem to think that Vlad would set us up. Bones must not have, either, or I wouldn’t be here, but there was something to be said about trusting a vampire who openly didn’t like Bones.

  “Keep your eye on the prize,” I muttered to Tate, avoiding his gaze.

  A snort came from him. “I am.”

  That made me pull up short on my way to the cotton candy vendor. Tate and I were never alone anymore, so aside from our main goal, this was also the perfect time to set some things straight.

  “Look, Tate, you have got to get over this…thing you have for me. It’s affecting our friendship, our work, and you take your life in your hands every time you bring it up in front of Bones.”

  Tate came closer, lowering his voice, not that it mattered with all this background noise. Another vampire would have to be within spitting distance to focus in on our conversation.

  “Do you know why I won’t shut up about how I feel about you? Because I didn’t say anything for years. We were friends, but I kept hoping with time, more would develop between us. I’m not making that mistake again, hesitating when I should have moved forward. I don’t care if it pisses Crypt Keeper off or makes you uncomfortable, I’m done pretending that I only want to be your friend.”

  Tate leaned down, and I had to either let him press next to me, or cause a scene and wrest away.

  “Don’t tell me the thought’s never crossed your mind, either,” he said very softly. “I remember that night we kissed, before Bones showed back up in your life. You weren’t treating me like just a friend then.”

  Figures he’d bring that up, I thought, frustration and annoyance competing within me. One evening of way too many drinks and loneliness had led to a kiss that should have never happened.

  “You’re an attractive man, and I’m not dead. Yeah, the thought crossed my mind once or twice. But that was before Bones came back. I can honestly say it hasn’t happened since.”

  “Sometimes I hate Don,” Tate spat.

  I was baffled. “What does my uncle have to do with any of this?”

  “Don knew what you were from the moment you were born, and I’d known him for three years before I met you. Three years, Cat. That fucking torments me. All Don would’ve had to do was look you up six months sooner than he did. Then you wouldn’t have met Bones first, you would have met me. We like each other, you’re attracted to me, and as a fellow vampire hunter, I would have been your perfect man. You would have fallen in love with me instead of ever loving Bones.”

  I was amazed by how much thought he’d put into this—and the worst part was, if I had met Tate before Bones, there was a good chance I might have ended up dating him. I couldn’t say I’d have fallen in love with him, but there was nothing about Tate that made him unappealing as boyfriend material.

  “Or I could have been killed on my first mission, that’s a more likely scenario, because then Bones wouldn’t have trained me first. And even if it all went like you described, it still wouldn’t have worked out between us.”

  “Why?” Tate asked harshly.

  “Bones would have been hired to kill me. He was offered the hit during the years I ran from him and the undead world didn’t know of our connection. So either Bones would have killed me, or he would have been intrigued by my being a half-breed and captured me, like he did when we first met. Either way, you and I still wouldn’t have made it. Sometimes two people just aren’t meant to be together.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he said, stubbornness written all over him.

  Refusal to quit in spite of overwhelming odds. That’s what made Tate such a brave soldier, but in this regard, it also made him hold on to something he should let go of.

  “Things will change,” I said at last. “One day, you’ll meet a woman who’ll make you realize your feelings for me weren’t the real deal. And when that happens, I’ll be happy for you.”

  Tate shook his head. “Or you’ll realize Bones isn’t the man you thought he was, and you’ll leave him. Come on, Cat, you barely even know him.”

  “I don’t know Bones?” I repeated. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “He’s almost two hundred and fifty years old, and you’ve been around him, combined, for less than one year,” Tate stated flatly.

  “I know what counts,” I said in a hard voice, stung.

  “Or you’re blinded by infatuation. Bones is a former pro, Cat. He’s been romancing women for centuries. Annette’s told me some things about him, and I gotta say, sometimes I don’t know whether to stab Bones—or shake his hand. Someone like that doesn’t just wake up one morning and change everything about their life by becoming a one-woman man.”

  Tate’s voice became rougher, lower, and he turned until I faced him.

  “But I’ve been by your side for almost
five years. You know you can trust me. You know I’d never lie to you, or cheat on you, and baby, he will. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it’ll happen. And when it does, you’ll leave him. And I’ll be waiting.”

  This conversation was going nowhere. So much for talking sense into him about our friendship. I shot Tate an exasperated look even as I pasted a fake smile on my face and headed back to the cotton candy vendor. I couldn’t swill gin here, but I could pound sugar while waiting to see if Anthony showed up.

  Three cotton candies and two spins on the Ferris wheel later—hey, nothing beat the Ferris wheel for getting a good vantage point—there was still no sign of Anthony. Or any other vampires aside from Tate. It was after ten, so most of the youngest kids were gone by now. Santa was looking less jolly as the time dragged on. No doubt he was counting down the minutes until midnight, when the carnival closed.

  Tate and I hadn’t spoken much since our prior argument. We continued to act like a happy couple. Tate played a marksman game, much to the dismay of the carny behind the counter, since with Tate’s military background and new vampire status, he nailed every target. I then had to walk around holding a huge stuffed polar bear.

  Oh yeah. No one looking at us would think we were out hunting vampires.

  Therefore, I was surprised when Tate abruptly spun me around, kissing me like it was the last thing he’d get to do before dying. My muffled protest was stilled when he whispered, “He’s here.”

  I dropped the polar bear to wrap my arms around Tate, kissing him back with equal fervor and sending my senses outward. There. About fifty yards away, a tingle of inhuman power hung in the air. How nice of you to finally come out and play, Anthony. Unless this was some other vampire who’d decided on a little Christmas cheer. That would be just our luck.

  That current of power came closer. Whoever this was, he’d felt Tate, too, because now he was heading straight for us. I put a little more oomph into kissing Tate. He groaned, tightening his arms around me. Between his grip and relentless kiss, there was a reason for me to be breathless when he finally lifted his head.