by Faith Hunter
Near the middle of the burial grounds, I stepped off the path and into the narrow space between two humpbacked family crypts and dumped Edmund off my shoulder. And nearly fell on top of him as he left the no time of the Gray Between and almost landed. He was caught by normal time just above the ground, his white dress shirt stained scarlet, the stake buried in his lower chest. I dropped to the dirt-covered cement near him and placed a hand between his head and the cement riser. When I touched him, his body landed with a thump, his head in my hand. I laid it on the cracked and broken ground.
I let myself slide out of no time, into real time. The smell of lime and urine and old, old, old death, combined with Edmund’s blood-scent. I had bubbled time far too much in the last few days. I wondered what the repercussions to that were, and if I might reach the point someday very soon when I could no longer access no time. Well, I had lived without the ability once. I could do it again. Or it could kill me outright. There was that.
A bat flitted down between the crypts, did a little ungraceful, unballetic pirouette and flew back out. If I had felt a little more alive, I might have laughed again. Instead I let the Gray Between go, rolled to the side, and vomited. More blood fell from the spots in my neck, and this time when I put my fingers there, I felt small slits, the kind that fangs might leave if vamp blood didn’t constrict the pierced blood vessels and close off bite wounds.
I pulled my cell, which was working again, and called Leo. His new secretary answered and I said, “Hey, Scrappy. Tell Leo to send help to the Lafayette Cemetery Number One. My new primo has been staked and I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out.” She tried to say something, but I interrupted, gave the mausoleum family name, and ended the call. Then I reached again for my powers and Beast shoved through me in a blinding rage. It was a tearing, stabbing, slicing, flesh-being-flayed-from-my-bones shift. I rolled away from the vampire, hearing my own rough scream in the night. And I was gone.
* * *
Claws tore through Jane clothes. Pushed out of Jane shoes. Pawpawpaw to darker shadow. Gathered paws beneath body, tight. Curled tail around body. Panting for breath. Heart racing away from big predator Beast could not see.
Beast was safe in space between human-dead-places. But felt wrong. Cold. Hungered.
Looked at vampire. Edmund. Was dead. Did not breathe. Heart did not beat.
Beast stretched out neck and sniffed vampire. Blood smelled fresh. Meat smelled good. But cold. Like meat from white box refrigerator. Sniffed again, lips pulled back to show killing teeth. Sucking in air over tongue and scent sacs in roof of mouth. Scree of sound. What Jane called flehmen response. Smells rushed in. Mouth watered. Smelled good.
Was hungry.
But . . . was wrong to eat Edmund.
But Edmund was dead. Was good to eat dead. But not all dead. Jane would be mad if Beast ate Edmund. But Beast was cold. Felt wrong. Breath did not feel right. Heart did not feel right. Coldcoldcold. Heart rushing like rabbit into hole, with Beast chasing after.
Looked up at sky. Did not know what to do.
Bat flew into small space, chasing small biting things, too small to eat. Mosquitoes. Hate mosquitoes. Edmund smelled good to eat.
Pawed closer to Edmund body. Sniffed in small bursts of breath. Smelled so good. Could . . . just taste . . .
Thought about taste. About taste of vampire blood. Jane ate vampire blood. Made her well when she was sick. Made her strong when she was weak. Beast should be able to taste vampire blood too. But not eat meat. Thought about tasting and not eating. Was human way to think. Was hard to think human. Thoughts of right and wrong for humans. For Jane, though Jane was not human. Was confusing.
Pawed closer, until Beast side touched vampire side. Cold meat vampire. Cold Beast body. Stretched out neck and sniffed blood. Goodgoodgood blood. Cold, strong blood could fix cold Beast. Touched edge of lips to blood. And licked. Blood so good. Licked and licked. Licked all blood from wound. Tongue found tip of stake. Stopped. Thinking again. Wood in vampire blood stopped vampire from being . . . alive. Undead. But wood did not kill old vampires, only young vampires. Old vampires could live if wood came out.
Thought. Licked wound, pressing deep with tongue, until all blood was gone. Stake was still there. Rose on haunches and pressed jaw to Edmund belly. Gripped stake in killing teeth. Pulled stake. Dead flesh made sucking sound, as if trying to hold stake. Stake came free and Beast backed away, teeth in wood. Stake had Edmund blood on it. Good blood. Sat and held bloody stake in paws, licked. Was good. Beast shivered and was no longer cold. Licked all blood off stake.
Looked up at new smell of vampires. Shadows walked and stopped at opening between human-dead-place-buildings. Knew shadows of vampires. Snarled. My stake!
“Allors,” Leo said. “Jusqu’à present. Je ne le crois pas.”
“Is that a stake?” Grégoire asked, pointing killing claw, what Jane called sword, at Beast.
Beast snarled again and let stake fall. But did not attack vampires. Felt good. Felt warm.
“Indeed it is,” Leo said. “Was she eating him?”
Grégoire waved tip of sword at Beast and walked nearer.
Beast showed killing teeth. Growled. But vampire was not afraid. Laughed at Beast. Was bigger predator. Pressed Beast belly to ground. Beast backed slowly into darkness. Stayed down, smelling blood. Was blood on paws and pelt. When vampires did not follow, Beast stopped. Groomed paws with tongue. Was good blood. Beast felt warmer and warmer.
Watched as small, paler vampire knelt at side of Edmund, dead vampire. Deader vampire. Beast chuffed with amusement. Deader vampire.
“This shall be an interesting story, no doubt,” said Grégoire.
Beast chuffed again. Felt good. Liked good vampire blood. Wanted more.
“We need to feed him, my friend.”
“His master should feed him.”
“His master is a puma.” Grégoire made sound like laughter. “I fear she is more inclined to eat him than to save him.”
Good vampire blood. Dead vampire meat.
Jane came awake inside Beast, beta to Beast’s alpha. Holy crap, Jane thought. Are you . . . drunk?
Am warm. Can eat vampire meat?
No!
Snarled. Jane is not good to Beast. Will not let Beast hunt cow in Edmund car. Will not let Beast eat Edmund.
What? Never mind. Back away.
Beast snorted in disgust. Backed deep into darker shadows.
“Merci, Jane,” Leo said.
Not Jane. Beast. Like vampire blood. Made Beast warm.
You were cold?
Was sick.
Jane went silent, thinking hard human thoughts. Beast did not listen. Jane was beta.
Leo dropped to knees beside Edmund. Held out wrist to Grégoire sword. Small pale vampire flicked point of steel over Leo skin in fast, killing strike with steel killing-claw. But cut only wrist. Sword pointed back at Beast. Good smell of vampire blood filled small space. Leo dribbled blood into Edmund mouth. Dribbled blood over stake wound. Smeared blood onto wound with fingers and stuck finger into wound.
Mosquitoes flew into space between small human-dead-places. Bats flew in. Leo made Grégoire cut wrist again and fed Edmund. Beast wanted to taste Leo blood, but Grégoire sword was pointed at Beast. Big steel killing claw. Was good hunter.
I don’t have my gobag, Jane thought.
Beast sent Jane vision of Jane waking up in mud, smell of catfish all over her.
Not funny. And not happening in front of Leo and Grégoire. Let’s get home.
Using darkness to hide movements, Beast slowly gathered self and shifted all weight to paws. Leaped from ground. Landed on top of rounded human-dead-place. Below, Grégoire and Leo were shouting but not in Jane language. Beast leaped to next roof and next and many more than five. Vampires followed, calling to Jane. Am not Jane! Am Beast! Stupid foolish vampires
. Did not feed Beast! screamed into night.
Gathered big-cat power and leaped over three small human-dead-places at one time, and then over wall. Landed in limb of tree over street. Jumped to top of car Jane called limo and then onto truck going past. Settled onto truck top, claws spread and belly down for balance.
Jumped to more trucks, moving downstream near big flowing river. Smelled water from river, strong and fast. Jumped to street into darkest shadows and padded slowly to Jane house. Wards were up, bright and silver and green, and, in Jane eyes, red. Walked to front door and stood up on hind legs. Extruded claw, rang bell. Heard Angie Baby and Little Evan and smelled wolf. Alex opened door.
Beast leaped inside. Landed on wolf back. Sank claws into white wolf. Bit down on wolf haunches. Wolf yelped, growled, and rolled over, trapping Beast. Beast chuffed with laughter and bit wolf. Play bite. Did not taste blood. Wolf rolled again, making dog sounds of laughter and joy. Wolf was heavy. Beast scratched and bit and rolled from under wolf. Wolf coat was thick, good weapon against big-cat killing teeth.
Played with wolf for long time, dodging Angie Baby and EJ, who squealed and ran, feet making thumping noises on wooden floor. Until Beast and wolf were panting and lying, looking at each other. Wolf tongue hanging out of mouth, dripping drool to floor. Stupid wolf. Thought for a moment. Beast likes stupid wolf.
I like him too, Jane thought. How weird is my life?
Alex said, “If you two are finished roughhousing, I need to get the kids to bed and tell you what I discovered. Get out of the way, Kit-Kit. Jeez. It’s a zoo in here.” The boy went upstairs, tugging witch kits with each hand. Beast looked away from wolf and rested head on paws, heated belly on wooden floor. Panting. Wolf still panting too. Kit-Kit sat at wolf mouth near drool and curled up on wolf paws. Closed eyes. Went to sleep.
Beast sighed heavy breath and closed eyes. Vampire blood is good blood.
* * *
“Wake up, you two,” Alex said. I need to update you.”
Beast opened eyes. Wolf opened one eye. Like Leo raised one eyebrow.
“Jane, are you alert enough to listen?”
I/we nodded Beast’s head. Was stupid human movement.
“Okay,” Alex said. “I’m not sure where I left Jane on the search for Reach. I tracked the cell he used to City Grounds Coffee Bar on West Dickens Avenue in Chicago. It was behind the counter where the staff put it because they assumed a customer would be back for it. No cameras on the doors, no vid of Reach. Coffee bar is near Oz Park, not too far from the lake, so lots of ways in and out. Dead end.” Alex toed wolf. “Wake up, dog. I’m talking here.”
Is not dog. Is wolf.
Wolf snorted and showed killing teeth to Alex.
Beast saw cell phone was glowing. Jane thought, Alex is on speakerphone. Stand up and see who’s on the other end.
Beast stood and looked at cell. Was picture of man.
Captain America, Jane thought. So Eli’s on speaker. We’re good. Beast lay down again.
Alex said, “I’ve been studying about the Mings, trying to find what Ming of Mearkanis being alive might mean to the current political situation, the Witch Conclave, and the arrival of the European Vamps. I have a feeling that whoever is behind all this had no idea she would be found, and her discovery is throwing a monkey wrench into the plans.”
“Roger that,” Eli said.
“I’ve been looking at how the Mings got to this continent, and according to Reach’s database, there’s no record of the twin Ming sisters first arriving in the Americas. At some point they were owned by a Creole family of vamps by the name of Bondaille. Other than that, the records never existed or have been lost.
“There’s no record of how Ming Zhane rose to Blood Master of Clan Glass. Ming Zoya became Blood Master of Clan Mearkanis, and that one is well documented.”
Alex’s words have no blood, Beast thought.
Boring, Jane agreed.
Wolf snuffled and rolled over to lie on back, belly in air, eyes on Kit-Kit, pawing at little cat. Beast wondered if wolf meat was good to eat. Jane thought, Only if you want to turn me into a werewolf. I survived two bites and have no desire to risk it again. And his name is Brute.
Like name Wolf better, Beast thought. Wolf is Wolf like Beast is Beast.
“The remains of the humans at the pit where Ming of Mearkanis was found have received official, legal, forensic autopsies and have been identified by comparing missing persons reports and dental records.”
Beast’s ear tabs twitched in interest and Jane moved into Beast eyes to stare out at Alex.
“Their names are Onus Rebarius Brown,” he said, “age twenty-four when he went missing, and his girlfriend, Jesimine Ladasha Pirrie, age nineteen. No firm COD or TOD has been established, but the bone scarring and healing around wrists and ankles suggest they were shackled and alive for some time in the pit. Scavenger depredation,” he emphasized, “took place postmortem, and may be interfering with the COD determination. Changing water tables are interfering with TOD.”
Jane thought, COD and TOD. Cause of death and time of death.
“Local LEOs are not saying who or what they think killed the couple, but the chains suggest that they were kidnapped, possibly tortured, leaving mostly soft tissue damage, then drowned. And then the water table dropped, and animals got in somehow, and then the water table went back up. Maybe several times.”
“But they think vampires?” Eli asked over the cell connection.
“They think weres of some sort.”
Wolf snorted at words. Still upside down, he batted house cat with oversized paws. Kit-Kit batted back.
“Hmm,” Eli said.
“Yeah. Anyway, I started researching the brooches and found the style was based on Egyptian history, in European and American revival jewelry and art from several decades in modern history. There’s a maker’s mark, and they were signed by an artist, so we know they were made by a local New Orleans jeweler, but there’s no documented tie-in with the Mings, or with any of the witches or the vamps, and I don’t think I’ll find any.”
“Copy,” Eli said. “Jane, I’m not sure what happened with Edmund, with you doing that whole—” He stopped. “With you taking off that way.”
Beast chuffed at Jane’s amusement. Eli was about to say things on cell that might be overheard by ambush hunters.
“Lachish is at Tulane, surrounded by witches and cops and a doctor named Robere. Sound familiar?”
Beast yawned.
“She needs surgery on her leg and arm, and the good doctor has privileges there, so he’ll be scrubbing in to assist, gratis. The MOC has offered his blood to help in healing, especially so that she can show up at the big wingding. I’ve already secured a wheelchair and ramps for the Elms, and the staff and family at the Elms are suddenly more agreeable to allowing cameras in-site. They want a price from YS for security upgrades. Evan is fine. Edmund donated enough blood that Molly and Ailis were able to finish his healing. He’s a little tender, but he and Molly are on the way home.”
“But the Witch Conclave is still on?” Alex asked.
“Roger that. But I think we should get a bloodhound and walk the grounds of the Elms. See if we can get a scent.”
Beast’s head went up. Snorted. Eli meant Beast to let Jane become ugly dog with good nose. Beast growled. Wolf turned over and tilted head, watching Beast. Could use Wolf? Beast asked Jane.
No. I think we need to shift and do it ourselves.
Beast snorted in disgust. Was good word, disgust. Is stupid. Is prey move.
Okay. It isn’t smart. But we’ve done it before. Once. We survived.
Stupid, foolish, kit thing to do. But nodded head as humans would.
“She’s in,” Alex said. “I’ll get her box of bones and put a steak on to sear.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” The connection
ended.
Beast and Jane followed Alex to Jane’s room and stood in doorway, watching as Alex got chair and stood on it, feeling around on top shelf for box of bones and teeth. When he set it on floor he paused and looked at Beast. “I don’t guess I could watch this ti—”
Beast snarled and growled, vibration loud in warning. Showed killing teeth.
“Right. Never mind. Forget I asked.”
Beast growled again and Alex stink changed with fear. Good fear smell. Beast chuffed. Alex walked fast out of Jane room, closing door. Beast pushed on door with nose to make sure it was shut. Pushed small lock with nose. And went to bed, jumped on top. Jane’s den was good den. Soft den. Good place for kittens. Jane did not reply, so Beast opened box with teeth. Picked out necklace of bloodhound teeth and bones. Do not like ugly dog. But good nose. Settled on bed and let Jane reach into bones and teeth and into snake at heart of all things.
Jane shifted, first into Jane, and then into ugly, hungry dog.
* * *
When Eli knocked on the bedroom door, I gave a friendly woof.
“You locked it,” he said, the faint click telling me that the latch had been no concern for the Ranger. Eli stepped inside, and though I couldn’t see well in this species’ form, I smelled his exhaustion, tart and marginally sour. With the long ears and folds of loose skin, it was hard to see anything, and I shook myself, the flesh slapping, rippling, and sliding over deeper tissue. Eli held a leash and a Canine Service dog vest, and Beast crinkled up our nose at the smell of it, but I stepped off the mattress and sat, like a good dog.
Brute pushed into the room and stopped short. His head whipped back and forth, his nose scenting the air. He growled. A werewolf growl was much louder than Beast’s, a vibration that swept into the walls and floor and made the house judder under me. I went utterly still.