Jane Yellowrock 14 - True Dead

by Faith Hunter

  Aya finally said, “It will take me some time to digest this, my sister.”

  “I’ve been living it, and I’m still digesting it. What if Ka and Grandmother are both u’tlun’ta and are working together? Do they need the Rule of Three too?”

  Aya murmured, “They may. And if so, they will want a third skinwalker. They will want you or me for an u’tlun’ta working. Or one of the skinwalker cousins.” He stopped. “I haven’t told you about them. Did you know that I . . . we have three distant cousins in Oklahoma?”

  “No,” I said sourly. “You haven’t gotten around to that.” Of course I hadn’t told him about the two brother-big-cats I had scented so long ago out west. They had most likely been skinwalkers. “I have things to tell you too. When this is all over, we’ll have an honest, frank talk about skinwalkers.” Before he could reply, I added, “And yes, that includes the half-form, though I’m not sure how much I can tell you about how that happens.”

  Aya made a noncommittal sound. “If your conjectures are true, then the Rule of Three might require George Dumas for his Onorio power. Is the body of this Monique in a safe place? And are you certain you don’t wish the dead to become true dead? The Onorio you hold prisoner is a potential threat and rallying point.”

  “Yes to the first. No to the second. I have a traitor at HQ. That traitor will want to free her. We’re watching her body, with a full team ready at any moment to respond.”

  “Your call, of course. I’m in Knoxville. I’ll arrange official leave and take the first flight out. I’m on my way. Keep yourselves safe.”

  The call ended, and I thought, Little brother to the rescue. I wondered if his presence would make things better or worse.

  I heard a sound at the front door and felt my body tense for fight or flight. The scent hit me, that wonderful mixture of meat and spices that always heralded food from Cochon Butcher. Eli strode into the room, his dark skin sheened with rainwater; Bruiser, also rain-damp, was behind him. The sky had been spattering down off and on for hours.

  Eli gestured at the table, and I gathered up my stuff and carried it to the bedroom, out of the way. When I got back, the table was full of meat and goodness. There was duck pastrami, country sausage, broiled boudin, smothered greens, mac and cheese, deviled eggs, potato salad, and two loaves of bread from a local bakery. Bruiser, Eli, and Alex were already loading up plates for an early lunch, and I joined in, putting a little of everything onto mine. Grabbing a knife and fork, I started to dig in.

  I stopped. Frowned. Alex had said I didn’t offer thanks anymore. I wasn’t sure how a tribal chick who had been Christian-dunked in a river and then self-dunked many times as part of Cherokee rituals was supposed to pray.

  “Jane?” Bruiser asked. There was worry in his tone.

  “I need to say thanks,” I said, staring at the food in front of me. Eli and Alex exchanged glances, as if they had been talking about just this. All three guys put down their cutlery and folded their hands on the table. I could feel their eyes on me, and with my part-cat nose, I could smell their relief. To them, this meant that I was acting more like myself. Or my old self. “I’m—” I stopped. “I’m not sure how anymore,” I said more softly.

  “I’ll say it,” Eli said, his gaze heavy. A silence stretched, and I realized he was waiting for me to man up, as he might put it. I gave a slight nod. Without looking down or closing his eyes, he said, “We are grateful for safety. We are grateful for bounty. We are grateful for life. We are grateful for laughter. We are grateful for each other and for family and for clan. Amen.”

  I thought about that statement of gratitude. It wasn’t like any prayer I had ever heard. There was no Lord this or Lord that. But there was also no naming of the corn mother or the sun and moon. It was a statement of fact, of gratitude. I had a feeling it would not be enough for me at some point in the future, that I would need to go talk to God in my soul home and get my spiritual life back on some kind of track, but for now, it was a beginning.

  “Amen,” I said quietly. And then I grinned and added, “And we are grateful for the pig who died to give us this meat.”

  “Amen to that,” Alex said. Irritable, he asked, “Now can we please eat?”

  We ate. Silent and comfortable.

  After the meal, while they all sipped coffee and I drank a chai with peri-peri peppers in it, I told the guys my theory about the Onorio Ka maybe being u’tlun’ta, about maybe eating the Firestarter and being the same person, about Monique not being totally dead and my plan to draw out our traitor at HQ, about Shaun aligned with the Firestarter, and about Sabina involved with Grandmother. All my paranoid conspiracy theories. Except the paranoid were sometimes right. I finished with the information that Ayatas FireWind was heading here. The guys were silent for so long after I finished speaking that I got up and made a new pot of tea for me and coffee for them.

  “Is this an official PsyLED trip?” Eli asked.

  Aya had said he would arrange leave. “No. It’s . . . I guess it’s family,” I said, uncomfortable at that word referring to Aya.

  “I’ll reserve him a hotel room,” Alex said, heading back to his desk.

  “I’ll go back to the Council Chambers,” Bruiser said, rising and kissing the top of my head as if I were a child, “and begin the negotiations into the rules for the Sangre Duello that Koun will fight with Shaun or his champion.”

  Oh. I had forgotten that part. A finger of shame wriggled around inside my brain, as he knew it would, hence the head kiss. But I knew Koun was by far the better fighter. If he died, I would lose a lot, and my friend would die. Even if Koun lost, I could negotiate safe passage for my people. If I died, things would suck. If I died, the whole city could lose.

  Exhausted, the taste of roasted meat still on my lips and caught in my clothes and pelt, I left the table and the cleanup to others, crawled into bed, and fell asleep.

  My last thought was the wedding. Dang. I hadn’t checked in on the repairs to the ballroom. Then I was gone.

  * * *

  * * *

  Beast woke. It was night. Bruiser was not in Jane bed. Had not been in Jane bed. Beast smelled burned things and felt hot air through house. This meant humans with no pelt needed warmth. Beast rolled over and pulled Jane half-form-clothes off Beast body. Sniffed for scents. Listened for sounds with ears and sniffed with nose stolen from ugly-dog-good-nose, which Jane called bloodhound. Heard protectors outside house, walking. Smelled vampires in house. Alex in house.

  Eli rose from bed upstairs and walked downstairs, feet silent to humans but heard by Beast. Something had waked Eli. Then heard very soft tap-tap-tap. Was what waked Beast. Was what waked Eli. Eli would have white man gun, but Eli would not shoot Beast.

  Beast stretched on good bed, front legs out. Then back legs out. Pulled on spine and neck and shoulders and hips. Shook pelt.

  Tap-tap-tap.

  Beast dropped from bed. Padded to front window. Raised up and shoved aside curtain with paw. On other side of window was . . . Leo.

  Beast heart jumped into throat. Beast whirled and raced to door of Jane den. Could smell Eli on other side. With both front paws, scratched onto door. Eli opened door. “Be quiet; someone is—”

  Beast rammed body at Eli legs. Eli cursed. Nearly fell. Beast raced through house, feet and paws slipping on wood floor and rugs. Sped to sidewall with many doors where cat door had been created. Heard Eli give warning that Beast was free and running. Said to shoot nothing. Knew Eli had not seen Leo. But Eli would not know Leo. Leo was body-changed. But was Leo!

  Beast dove through cat door and into wet night, damp and chill. Night smells of New Orleans were strong. Urine, vomit, rats, stinky humans with no baths, much food, hot fat, smelly spices, much alcohol. And stink of burned vampire.

  Sped across backyard to side yard to square block fence and leaped. Good Beast leap. High. Caught balance at top of wall. Fast pawpawpaw along fence. What Jane called cat balance. What Beast called best hunter. Dropped body down to gr
ound in tiny space filled with big-leaf plants. Landed. Stopped beneath wide leaves. Hidden. Rain made loud noises, plopping on to leaves and ground. Was not hard rain. Was wet. Beast did not like rain and wet. But . . . Leo scent was on air. Was different Leo scent. Many dead burned flowers and burned paper smell. But deep inside scent was still Leo.

  Wanted to scent deep but did not make flehmen response, did not make noise to smell. Belly-crawled to front of side yard. Could tell Leo was not at Jane den now but was still close. Followed stink of burned Leo on night air, shadow to shadow, car to car. Avoided street lights and house lights and drunk humans lying in doorways.

  Turned toward river. To hill called levee. Then downstream. Following burned Leo smell like dog, snout in wind. Shadow to shadow. Silent.

  Saw human-shape-form sitting on park bench. Sitting human form was Leo. Sleeping human lay on ground at feet. Smelled human blood. Stopped, smelled air, and watched. Leo had been dead. Head had been removed. Then time changed, and head was almost removed. Beast had seen many things and beings die. Leo should not have survived, but Leo had drunk blood from great predator in HQ sub-five. Leo had healing bottle of special blood from lab-a-tory. Had been buried in blood of enemies, much magic healing blood and magic string tying head to body.

  Beast thought hard, trying to think as Jane thinks.

  Leo had been burned in graveyard fire. Leo had been taken from Leo tomb by . . . enemies? Friends? Yet Leo was alone. Had Leo killed thieves of Leo body? Leo was good hunter.

  But. Trying to think like Jane.

  Was possible Leo would not be same Leo.

  Human at Leo feet breathed. Leo had fed but had not killed human. Beast smelled other humans nearby, humans with no den, what Jane called homeless. They slept under plastic and boxes in slow rain. Leo had fed from them all, and all lived. Blood was needed to make Leo strong. Leo needed much blood to heal. Yet Leo had not killed humans. Leo was not revenant. Was still enough of Leo to approach.

  Beast dropped to belly and crawled closer to Leo.

  “I smell you, my Jane,” Leo said. “You came to me.”

  Am not Jane, Beast thought. Stopped crawling. Wondered if Leo wanted Beast blood. Would fight Leo. Beast is not prey.

  “I dreamed of you while I lay in the blood of my enemies. I dreamed of the cavern where I was once trapped, a cavern with a tall domed ceiling and rising and falling columns of stalactites and stalagmites. I was chained there by silver that I could not break, and yet . . .” Leo was silent. His toe pushed at the sleeping human. Rolled human over, snoring. “Yet Jane set me free. Such strange dreams.”

  Leo made laugh that sounded of much pain. Laugh was wrong, but Beast did not know why. Needed to wake Jane. Jane would know what to do about Leo. Beast pressed claws into Jane mind. Jane mind was sleeping, curled into ball like kit.

  “I dreamed of angels and demons and the Flayer of Mithrans. I dreamed of my Katherine and my Grégoire. And I dreamed of my master. But Katherine and Grégoire are gone, no longer at their lairs. Of them all, you came to me.”

  Beast did not move closer. Body tightened, paws close to body. Tail around hips and out of way. Was ready to leap far.

  “Do you love me, my Jane?”

  Beast did not answer. Jane did not love Leo. Beast loved Leo. Beast had always loved Leo. Was hard to think of love, of human thoughts for mate and kits, but Beast had always wanted Leo, biggest predator, for Jane-mate.

  Jane took Bruiser as mate, and Beast loved Bruiser too. Maybe loved Bruiser more than Beast could ever have loved Leo. But old love for Leo was still in Beast heart and body. Smaller love, weaker love. But still was love.

  Beast pressed claws harder into Jane mind. Jane must wake, Beast thought.

  Jane came awake. Holy crap, where are we?

  Beast showed Jane vision of levee. Vision of Leo. Jane peered through Beast eyes. Jane thought, like prayer of fear and amazement, Leo?

  Is Leo. Did not kill humans he drank from. Beast showed Jane what had happened.

  Is he sane?

  Beast does not know. But rabid predator would have killed. Leo knows we are here. Calls us my Jane.

  Yeah. He would, if he was sane. Or sane-ish. Okay.

  Leo breathed. Breath sounds were strange for vampires to make. Leo spoke. “Of them all, I could not bind you, yet you served me. In your own way.” Leo made strange sound of laughter again.

  Shock went through Jane like arrow. Jane understood why laugh was wrong. And now Beast understood. Leo was vamped out with fangs and wide night-eyes and claws on fingers. Was fully predator. Yet Leo laughed. Vampires could not laugh and be vampire at same time. Laughter brought them back to human selves. Should. But this time did not.

  Leo breathed again. “You served. According to that blasted bedamned honor that seeps into the world from your heart and changes everything you touch. Unbound. Unbound you stayed with me. Me, the Monster of New Orleans. Did you know that they called me that, for a time? The Monster of New Orleans.” He laughed, that odd, not-Leo laugh.

  Beast did not like laugh sounds. Jane did not like sound. Human at Leo feet snored louder. Leo toed human again and snore stopped.

  “That Monster of New Orleans told you of the worse monsters to come and shared the threat that you could protect your witch friends and, by extension, all of us. And you believed me. You believed when I told you. You stayed, and the monsters began to come, as I knew they would. Many of my enemies I couldn’t have destroyed alone. You were the wild card in this deadly game. Because of you, many lived who would have died. Including me.”

  Strange not-laugh sound came from Leo. He raised his hand and looked at claws. Leo put hand on knee and tilted head to Beast. Was not-human motion. Was vampire motion, like snake. Leo looked at Beast. Beast tensed to leap, but Leo kept talking.

  “You believed when even the witches themselves did not believe. My own people did not believe that I could die true dead, that I could fail to keep them safe. None of the others who drank saw the futures. No one believed that if I lost, the monsters would destroy everything and everyone. Did you see the barren, destroyed world they would bring?”

  Crap, Jane thought. Yeah, I saw all that. But how the heck did Leo know that? Unless . . . Unless a timewalker showed him. Had Sabina showed him the possible futures with an amulet of power? Had an arcenciel? Or . . . Holy crap on a cracker. Did he see the possible futures in the blood he drank from the Son of Darkness, who once had an arcenciel trapped in crystal and was bitten by one . . .

  If that’s the case, then Leo was . . . Leo was expecting me here in his city. He was waiting for me, Jane thought.

  Beast thought, Leo attacked Jane when he saw-smelled Jane for first time. Jane burned Leo hand with silver cross. Leo did not recognize Jane.

  Jane thought, Yeah. Right. So maybe his visions showed me only in puma-form, like a were-puma, or in half-form. Maybe his visions of the future never included my human face, only my half-form snout.

  “And once again,” Leo said, “worse monsters are upon our doorsteps, worse monsters than I could ever hope to be.”

  Leo turned head again. Beast could see Leo hair, Leo eyes, Leo skin. Could see burned skin places. Leo wore human clothes, with black shirt, shoes, and pants Jane liked, called jeans. Leo was vamped out. Liked Leo fangs, good killer predator fangs.

  “I thought I had everything under control when you finally came to my city part human, part Puma concolor. I thought I could use you, bind you, keep you near until the time I needed you to kill my enemies. But they were far closer than I had known. I did not know they had replaced the son of my body with one of their own. I did not know that you would kill the Mithran who was not my son.”

  Leo voice broke. Strange tears rolled down Leo face, blood tears. Leo smell was changing, anger-sick smell.

  Leo looked at sky. “I do not have long. The dawn is near, and my healing is not complete. I must sleep, and there is still much to say. The thing that is my greatest enemy is coming to this country.
My master. He is being drawn here because you set his plans awry, beginning the moment you killed Immanuel and revealed what he was. When you killed de Allyon and Grégoire killed le Batard, a thing my dearest friend would never have done had you not shown him a different way to live, a different life from running and hiding from the horrors of his past. All future possibilities began to change.

  “When you became Dark Queen, my master could no longer wait. He set his plans in motion and sent Shaun MacLaughlinn to test you, to weaken you. If you survive Shaun’s treachery, my master will attack. He is the last great power behind all that was put in place between the Sons of Darkness, and the power that you freed when you killed the makers of my kind. The Heir comes.” The way he said heir sounded like a title.

  Heir? Jane thought. Melker’s heir? Shaun’s heir? Or some unknown heir to someone else I had killed? It is a long freaking list.

  Leo continued, “With the makers of my kind gone, there is no one to drink from who is stronger than he. With them gone, there is nothing to keep him at bay.”

  Except that there was a lump of flesh still hanging around to give someone power. The heart of one of the vamp creators’ immortal bodies was still in NOLA in the hands of the witches. So far as I knew, Leo didn’t know that the heart of one of the Sons of Darkness was being kept by witches in a safe place.

  Beast’s ears perked at the thought. Good strong vampire flesh.

  Leo’s eyes rested on Beast, painful. Heavy. “Except you, my Jane, my wild card.”

  I thought back through the silence and Leo’s last words. Something about no one to keep the Big Bad Ugly at bay. Right.

  “You are the Dark Queen, a thing I did not see in any of the visions. You hold the crown and a weapon of power. You will need the last of the artifacts to fight my master, to defeat him, for his blood is stronger than mine, and he is not blinded by hubris and a belief in immortality as the Sons of Darkness were.”

  His eyes returned to the sky. Leo said, “You must behead the Onorio you hold prisoner. End her. You must find all the artifacts, especially the last one. It is hidden in my rooms. Find it. Find it, my Jane. You will know what to do with it.” Leo stood faster than Beast could follow. Air popped, hurting Beast ears. Leo was gone.