This Side of the Grave (#5 Night Huntress)

by Jeaniene Frost

  “We’re letting them go.”

  “You have no authority to make those decisions,” Veritas snapped.

  “What a shame.” Marie’s voice sliced across the air, that sweet Southern twang gone and filled with the echoing tenor of the dead instead. “If Cat were correct, then I would have no cause to attack you to protect my people. I want peace. Don’t force me to war.”

  Veritas stared at Marie, her pretty, deceptively young-looking features hard. I only hoped she’d had run-ins with Marie in the past to know that the voodoo queen’s new spooky voice was a warning that she was about to unleash all kinds of pain. If not, I didn’t have time to convince Veritas about how ferocious Remnants were. I’d only have time to try to raise my own, or this would turn into a bloodbath with the casualties heavily on our side this time. Marie had her hands clasped in front of her in a deceptively casual gesture, but I knew that just meant the sharp point in her ring was pressed to her flesh.

  Only Mencheres’s power could be fast enough to stop her from drawing her blood to summon the Remnants. Even though I saw him walk up out of the corner of my eye, relieved to see Denise and Kira were also with him, I didn’t dare look over at Mencheres for fear any gesture would antagonize Marie into acting. Plus, if Mencheres froze her, he’d better kill her, too. She’d never let such a thing slide, especially with witnesses. And if we wiped out Apollyon, his lieutenants, and Marie Laveau all in the same night, we’d start the war ourselves.

  “Cat has no authority to make those decisions,” Veritas repeated. Beside me, Bones tensed even as I mentally braced to start counter defenses against a horde of diaphanous killers. “But she is correct nonetheless,” Veritas finished.

  It took everything in me not to let out a loud whoop of relief. Some of the tension leaking off Bones into my emotions lessened as well, even though not a fraction of his posture eased.

  “They’ll make us slaves,” one of the ghouls called out bitterly, to a chorus of grim sounds of agreement.

  “No they won’t,” Marie said, managing to sound both strident and comforting at the same time. “Peace does not mean vampires will ever rule over us. They are not strong enough to do so. As long as I live, the ghoul nation will always be equal to vampires in strength.”

  I didn’t see Marie’s fingers move, but I felt the snap of power in the air right before the Remnants appeared behind her, looking like a transparent version of hell’s army. Their numbers were staggering, their energy moving over me like icy waves along my skin. My bullet holes had long ago closed, so some part of me roared that I needed to draw my own blood, now, if I had any hope of holding them off. But Marie didn’t send the Remnants after anyone. She had them pile behind her instead, building up into a wall that rose higher than the trees and widened to reach the far side of the cemetery, easily five times the number I’d raised with Vlad.

  If this was a dick-measuring contest, I found myself thinking numbly, then I was Pee Wee and she was John Holmes.

  “Hail to our queen!” one of the ghouls called out, echoed almost at once by another cry of “Hail!” More ghouls repeated the salutation, until all of them practically trembled with their shouted allegiance.

  Marie bowed her head at the acknowledgments, and then the wall of Remnants collapsed, disappearing into the ground. This time, I saw the flick of her finger that preceded her drawing the necessary blood to send the lethal apparitions back to their graves.

  I quit looking at Marie to glance at Bones. He shook his head in a cynical way that mirrored my own thoughts. By getting rid of Apollyon and his top henchmen, we’d cleared the way for Marie to step in as queen of not just New Orleans, but the entire ghoul nation, judging from this reaction. If she’d taken on Apollyon herself, she might indeed have weakened their species through civil war as his supporters battled hers. But with him gone, she was now her people’s loyal savior and protector.

  Hail, my ass.

  I met her hazelnut gaze, noting the satisfaction in her eyes, before tapping the side of my mouth in silent warning. Marie might be the queen of the flesh-eaters now, but she and I shared a secret that could bring her down. Her people wouldn’t be cheering her so adoringly if they knew she’d shared her power with a vampire, giving me the tools necessary to bring down Apollyon. And if she tried to use her new position as a springboard for a war against the vampire world, she’d soon find herself fighting ghost for ghost against every spook I could rally using her borrowed abilities and the help of my friend Fabian.

  But when Marie inclined her head at me in a polite way, not an antagonistic one, I felt a twinge of hope. Marie was many things, but rash and stupid weren’t among them, so she’d know all this. With the incredible powers that many Master vampires had, plus what I’d absorbed from Marie and now knew about ghosts and the vital role they could play in battle, the two species were pretty evenly matched again, even with Marie’s abilities.

  The scales had been tipped when Gregor’s death made Marie’s allegiance to ghouls alone, but maybe balance was what Marie intended all along when she forced me to drink her blood, using the one form of threat I could never refuse: Bones’s life. I could only hope that evening the scales for the sake of peace had been her plan . . . and be ready in case it wasn’t.

  I inclined my head at her in the same respectful manner, but still kept my finger near my mouth. A slight smile creased her face before Marie turned away. Both our messages were sent and received.

  “Come,” Marie said to the surviving ghouls. “We will leave together. You have nothing to fear from them. We are at peace now.”

  As one, the ghouls began to follow Marie when she turned to walk out of the cemetery the same way she came in. I wondered if they picked up the warning note in her smooth voice when she said that we were at peace. I had, and once again felt a twinge of hope. If any of them went behind Marie’s back to start with vampires again, they’d find out the wrath of the voodoo queen was just as frightening as what I or any other vampire would do to them.

  “She used no spell,” Veritas murmured in surprise.

  I gave her a brief, jaded look. “That’s because she doesn’t practice black magic; she is black magic,” I said, repeating Marie’s words from that day.

  “Can we trust her?” Veritas asked Mencheres, so low I could barely hear her.

  He cast a thoughtful look at where Marie exited the cemetery before bestowing a single glance my way.

  “We can trust her not to be foolish,” Mencheres replied at last. “Beyond that, we will have to see.”

  I looked at the direction in which the voodoo queen disappeared with my own shrug. Time would tell Marie’s true motives. Until then, we had to pick up the pieces and move on.

  Speaking of pieces . . .

  I cast a glance around at the remains of the battle. Shriveling limbs, bodies, and blood stained the ground in various dark patches. What a mess. We’d have to burn most of the areas where the battles took place, both to hide the evidence of undead blood and just in case any of Denise’s blood had been spilled. I’d call Tate and have him keep the local cops back once we started the fires. It still felt strange to know Tate was the one I’d be speaking to about containing the scene, instead of hearing Don’s voice on the other line when I phoned in the details.

  Even thinking of my uncle seemed to conjure his image out of the corner of my eye; wearing a suit and tie, gray hair impeccably combed, tugging on his eyebrow like he did when he was annoyed or reflective. Several times over the past ten days, a mirage of my uncle would appear in my peripheral vision only to vanish as soon as I turned around. Grief did funny things to people, I supposed, but I didn’t turn yet. I had bullets to dig out of my body and a whole lot of other unpleasant things to do, but just for a few moments, I wanted to pretend that Don was still with me.

  “Lucifer’s bloody ball sack, I don’t believe it,” Bones hissed.

  I did turn then. As expected, the image of my uncle vanished, but I was surprised to see Bones staring at
that same spot behind me, his mouth dropped open like . . .

  Like he’d seen a ghost.

  “No,” I breathed.

  Bones met my gaze, and one look in his eyes told me everything.

  “Son of a bitch,” I whispered, my emotions swirling faster than a blender set on high as disbelief gave way to realization. Then I strode toward the area where Bones had been staring.

  “Donald Bartholomew Williams,” I called out loudly. “Get your ass back here now!”

  Acknowledgments

  This might look long-winded but it actually doesn’t scratch the surface to acknowledge all the vital persons involved in the Night Huntress series. For everyone I don’t mention by name, please know it’s not out of lack of appreciation, but simply lack of room instead.

  As usual, I have to start off by thanking God for all the amazing opportunities I’ve been given. I remember when all I asked for was a book to be published. Luckily for me, You had much bigger plans.

  Thanks so much to my wonderful editor, Erika Tsang, and the rest of the fabulous team at Avon Books. Nancy Yost, my agent, continues to be worth her weight in gold. A big shout-out goes to Tage, Erin, Kimberley, and Carol, for all you ladies do over at Frost Fans. Thanks so much also to the Night Huntress readers for your support of Cat, Bones, and the rest of their “twisted little fang family.” I will never be able to articulate how much I appreciate you spreading the word about the series or contacting me with notes of encouragement. “You rule!” doesn’t even begin to cover it.

  Thanks to Miriam Struett and Angelika Szakбcsi, winners of the Name That Kitty contest. I think Helsing (short for Van Helsing) is the perfect name for Cat’s cat!

  And, of course, endless love and thanks go to my husband and family, for more things than I could ever begin to list.

  Dear Reader:

  I hope you enjoyed This Side of the Grave.

  If you can’t wait to find out what’s next for Bones, Cat, and her uncle, here is an excerpt from the next novel in the Night Huntress series, available Fall 2011. Just before the scene you’re about to read, Cat received a call from Tate asking her to come to the compound to meet the new “operations consultant,” cryptically adding for her to bring Don along, too.

  Thanks, and happy reading!

  Jeaniene Frost