“The grall has that kind of power?”
“Yes. Because some secrets could still be drawn from your blood, your organs, even your bones.”
I eyed the corpse, its ruffled cravat and rust-colored suit coat stained with the blood of the head that had once completed it. “Bullshit.”
“What do you call forensic pathology?” asked Vayl.
“That’s different!”
“So speaks the woman with a Spirit Eye, a Spirit Guide, and a tendency to rise from the dead.”
Smartass. “Say I buy your explanation.” Which I think I’m going to have to, dammit. “Does that mean I can’t kill the adult? I mean, if Blas set it on Hamon to suck out his secrets, do you need to know what they are now?”
“I think we can surmise what Blas needed to know without risking our lives any further.”
“Really?”
“Certainly. Blas obviously lied to you. He was the one who wanted Hamon’s authority. Or perhaps he and Disa both wanted it. But it is a powerful position, and ascendance requires secret knowledge to which only Hamon had access. If I had challenged and beaten him, he would have been forced to hand that knowledge over to me. Blas and Disa obviously found another route. But something went wrong, either before or during the coup, and she turned on him.”
“So I can shoot the creepy crawler?”
“Be my guest.”
Finally, good news. Should we celebrate? If I backed up a step Vayl would be pressed against me like a winter coat. Maybe, if I killed the grall, he’d even be in the mood to forgive me for returning Cirilai. Which I was beginning to think I wanted back. I gave myself a mental shake. This is why you shouldn’t hook up with your boss, Jaz. So distracting when you’re trying to concentrate on the job.
I considered the situation for a moment. If the adult hadn’t moved at the prospect of fresh, vulnerable food, it obviously meant to stay put until we left. Or forced it into action. “Somebody’s going to have to get that body jiggling.”
This is going to be so gross. The stuff of nightmares, actually.
“I will do it.” He stepped forward.
“Don’t!” I realized I’d laid my hand on his chest and he was looking down at me, his lips inches from my own. “I . . . it’s just, the grall’s so fast. Speedy enough to take a vamp like Hamon off guard, right?”
“Why, Jasmine, you act as if you care.”
“I . . .” Aaargh!
“Never mind. I have another plan. Give me your belt.” I did as he asked, watched him connect mine to his and then loop one end of the resulting rope around the hilt of the knife. “Ready?” he asked.
I steadied myself and raised Grief. “Yeah.”
Walking to the edge of the sarcophagus, he held one end of the belt rope in his left hand while he balanced the blade of my knife in the other. His throw, strong and true, buried it in the corpse’s thigh. Using careful side-to-side movements, Vayl got the corpse to move. Unfortunately the wire it hung from had some give in it, so it also began to bounce.
“Vayl, this is not a pleasant moment for me,” I confessed.
“No?”
“Locked in a windowless, doorless room with a dancing, headless corpse and a secret sucker that can move fast enough to tear us both a new one if I miss?”
Vayl took a second to ponder. “Think of the body as what Pinocchio would have looked like if he had lied to the Mob.”
“That’s so not funny.”
“Then why are you chuckling?”
“God, we are so warped. And the grall?”
“An amoral gossip that must be silenced before it can spread the word that Santa subcontracts much of his work out to the Chinese.”
“I love Santa.”
“Then take the shot.”
I narrowed my eyes. There it was. Crouched behind the body’s left hip, appearing every third jiggle and bounce, its antennae waving like wrinkled fingers as it tried to figure out what the hell its cover was up to now.
I raised the gun. Took my time. Made the rhythm part of my breathing. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three—bam!
The grall dropped to the floor. As it began to writhe I shot it again. And again.
“Jasmine?”
“Yeah?”
“I believe it is dead now.”
I looked up at Vayl. “That’s what you get when you malign Santa.”
He nodded gravely. “Indeed.”
Chapter Sixteen
Vayl and I had just emerged from the closet when Sibley appeared at the far end of the hall.
“Did you hear something?” she asked as she rushed up to us. “A popping sound?”
We exchanged puzzled looks. Vayl shook his head. “Nothing from this area,” he said. “Have you had another fire?”
“We’re not sure. Marcon is checking to see if the alarms are all working.”
“I was just telling Vayl it felt kind of warm in here,” I said. “Maybe your furnace is malfunctioning.”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Hamon may have had his faults, but at least he maintained the place. All Disa does is sit in that library reading histories of the Trust and snapping at anyone who disturbs her.” She bit her lip, looking over her shoulder, as if afraid her new Deyrar had taken a break just to spy on her. Then she shrugged, shook her head, and moved on.
“Now, why would Disa need to fill herself in on the Trust’s background?” I asked.
“I would imagine for the same reason Blas needed the grall,” Vayl answered. “Hamon always intimated that there was more to running this Trust than simply stomping your foot and insisting you were in charge every twenty minutes or so.”
“So let’s go find out the real story about how the little ladder climber came to power,” I suggested.
“You forget how close-mouthed the Trust members can be,” said Vayl.
“Oh, I don’t know. Niall might be convinced to share a story or two.”
“What makes you believe that?”
I told Vayl about Kozma and Trayton and my confrontation with the vamp who had trapped them both. It only took him a couple of minutes to jump onboard. Which worked out well for me, since I’d already decided to stop at Niall’s room whether Vayl accompanied me or not.
Trayton, how did you get under my skin so fast? You’re like a freaking virus! Still, I felt a spurt of anticipation as I led the way to my Were buddy’s hideout and knocked on the walnut door with its bas-relief etching of an armored mare galloping across a field.
“Who is it?” came Niall’s voice from inside.
“Lucille and Vayl,” I said to the sound of three locks being disengaged in quick succession. I shouldered through the door as soon as Niall opened it wide enough to admit me. “Trayton!” The relief I felt when I saw him sitting up in the brass bed, the cluttered tray on the chair next to it giving evidence that he’d eaten, was like seeing the sun after two straight weeks of rain.
As Vayl and Niall conferred, I leaned over to check the Were’s wound, now little more than a bright red welt marring the smooth skin of his chest. “You look a helluva lot better than you did the last time I saw you.”
He smiled, revealing teeth that crossed at the front just slightly and elongated canines that were twice as thick as a vamp’s. “I feel better,” he said, brushing his hair out of his eyes so I could see them sparkle. “It was worth almost dying to share blood with an Eldhayr.”
I looked at him blankly, stunned that he even knew the word my Spirit Guide had used to describe himself once during a rare moment of revelation. Raoul had been an earthly soldier who’d continued his fight after death against even stouter foes than those he’d faced in life. I’d never given much thought to what I’d become after he’d brought me back. For sanity’s sake, I figured it was better not to go there. Better, in fact, to just continue as Jaz. Even with my Sensitivity blooming like spring roses and my Spirit Eye making me wish for shades, it was easier to think of them more as extra abilities than of myself
as someone different. Something no longer human.
No, look, you’re still mostly human, I assured myself. If you weren’t, well, surely you wouldn’t be so pissed off at Dave or so confused about Vayl right now, huh? And you definitely wouldn’t want to pinch Disa’s head in a vise and then attach her body to a tire rotator.
That’s how you judge? asked Granny May. She’d moved to a new spot in my mind, one where I’d spent lots of time waiting for her in life. The beauty shop was old-school, with massive hair dryers that came down over your head like astronaut helmets and hair spray so thick in the air your eyelashes would stick together just walking to the waiting area. She flipped to a new page of her Better Homes and Gardens and gave me a sniff. You’re human because of all your negative emotions? Give me a break. Even demons feel rage.
How would you know? I demanded.
Don’t try to change the subject.
Fine, then. I . . . I’m human because . . . I floundered around, getting a little more panicked with each passing second. Then I knew. Because I choose to be, dammit!
Bingo! shouted my granny as the Were spoke up.
“Lucille.” His smirk told me he’d call me that if I wanted, but we both knew I was full of crap. “You smell of ferocity and distress. Are you all right?”
“That’s my perfume,” I said caustically. “Eau de oxymoron. By the way, this is my boss, Vayl.”
Vayl waved from where he stood with Niall by a second locked door, which exactly resembled the one we’d seen in Admes’s room. He seemed intent on getting the real story of Blas and Disa from his former ally, so I let him continue with his conversation while I took care of my new pal.
I asked, “Can I get you anything? Are you bored? Maybe I can find you some magazines or books or something.”
“I’m good,” he said. He nodded to a TV sitting across from the bed on a small entertainment center. “Niall is an Xbox 360 fanatic. So I’m set for as long as I have to stay.” Any other guy his age would’ve been content with the forced rest as long as he could play all day. But I could tell something was digging at him. He held the sheets wadded in his fists like only they could keep his hands from the items his longing eyes kept resting on: the spare clothes folded in Niall’s massive dresser, the door standing unlocked at my back. Freedom.
I put my hand over his knuckles and he grabbed on to me like I meant to pull him back from the edge of a precipice. I said, “We should get you out of here as soon as possible. I’m planning on going into town in the morning. Do you think you’ll be up to leaving by then?”
“I’ll manage,” he said. Though his voice was low, almost sarcastic, his longing for the outdoors pierced so deeply I nearly staggered.
No windows in this room, his suffering stare told me.
The ones in mine are all covered, I silently replied.
“What are you two communing about?” Vayl asked sharply.
When I turned my head to look at him I felt like I was moving in slow motion. Trayton’s pain overwhelmed me, making it hard to breathe. It wasn’t just that, of course. It never is. Everything builds on the blocks that are already in place until they all threaten to tumble down around you. Like this monstrous villa, my issues couldn’t be contained in any sensible sort of structure anymore. Which meant I didn’t even know how to tackle them. I gazed at Vayl. I don’t think I spoke out loud. Being his avhar, I didn’t have to.
He strode to me, reached up as if to take me by the arms. “I am getting you out of here.”
I stepped back. If he touched me I’d lose it completely. Holding up my hands, I said, “I’ll be okay. It’s just . . . been a long day.” My eyes went to my empty ring finger. I clenched my hands into fists and hid them behind me. Vayl, his eyes suddenly lighting to amber, stepped even closer.
“Jasmine—”
Both Trayton and I suddenly looked at the hall door at the same time and breathed, “Vampire.”
Niall hesitated. “No time to access the secret exit,” he whispered. “Here.”
He produced a set of keys from his front pocket and unlocked the door to the adjoining room. Vayl picked Trayton up off the bed, covers and all, and the three of us rushed out of the bedroom. As soon as we were clear, Niall shoved the door closed and called out, “Come in!”
I recognized Rastus speaking, his tone ragged, frustrated. But I couldn’t make out the words. Then my focus turned to the woman who sat in the center of the room we’d entered, playing softly at the shining black grand piano. It matched her hair, which swung forward to hide her face as she rocked into the keys, as if she could somehow dive into the song.
Did she play any of the other instruments that surrounded her? One corner held a harp. It made such a bold statement with its elegant shape and fine, golden frame that it worked simply as sculpture. A couple of violins, a viola, and a cello stood on stands against one darkly paneled wall, as if any minute now a string quartet planned to swing by and start practicing.
More modern instruments had been added to the mix as well. A drum set. A Clavinova digital piano. Enough brass to satisfy a blues band. All of it lovingly preserved.
Without looking up, even as she continued playing, the woman whispered, “Why are you here?”
Vayl froze, holding Trayton against him like a sick child. I stepped forward, but stopped when she held up a long-nailed hand that commanded me to. In the lowest voice I could manage I said, “Niall didn’t want his visitors to know he was harboring a healing werewolf and a couple of unwanted guests.”
“Which are you?” she asked.
“My name’s Lucille. The werewolf, Trayton, is by the door, being held by Vayl. If you’ve been here any length of time you probably—”
“Yes, I remember my old friend,” she said, finally looking up from the keyboard.
“Holy shit!” I breathed, desperate not to be heard by the vampires on the other side of the door, in dire need of a scream.
It had hit me again. Like in the closet, only worse this time. Because the woman had no face. None at all. It’s Aine, said the prim little librarian in my head, who seemed to be shocked by nothing because she felt sure it could all be cataloged. Remember Blas describing the fight—
Of course I do! I was there, wasn’t I? Shut the hell up!
Vayl staggered forward, ramming against me, knocking us both off balance so that we did a little whoops-are-we-gonna-fall dance before regaining our centers. I heard Trayton whimper softly as he beheld the empty cavity that should’ve held eyes, nose, and mouth.
I think I’m going to be sick, and that’s so impolite. It’s not her fault, I thought as I backed up. I didn’t stop until my shoulders brushed the door. Since I’d wrapped both hands around Vayl’s right arm, I pulled him and Trayton with me. Vayl dropped the Were to his feet between us, and we stood there for a second like a group of coeds about to be shredded by a serial killer.
Luckily my curiosity is a ravenous and unsleeping monster. So I had to know before I repeated my closet collapse, “How is it that you can talk to us?”
She’d never stopped playing. Now the melody changed. “I speak through the song. It was once my cantrantia to bend humans to my will through the quiver of a piano wire, or the pluck of a harp string. But once I lost the ability to speak with my own tongue, the music filled the empty spaces.”
I couldn’t look at her anymore. Any other injury, no problem. Take off her arm, her leg, rip a chunk out of her side, I could deal. But Jesus, this injury hit me like stories of the Holocaust. The horror I felt when I looked on her nonface was so overwhelming I was almost paralyzed by it.
“Listen,” I said, staring down at the hardwood floor. I’d made this offer to Blas, not realizing he probably deserved his fate. Well, maybe Aine was no different. I hadn’t heard Niall’s version of events to know for sure. Still. “We might be able to find you a plastic surgeon. I don’t know if there’s any chance to help. It’s probably never been tried on vamps. But—”
“No.”
“No?”
“I am simply waiting for the moment.”
“The . . . what?”
“I cannot just walk into the sun. Not after what she has done to me. I can’t leave my Trust under her heel.” The music had become harsh, dissonant even. Suddenly it softened. “Niall tells me you have come to vanquish our enemy, Edward Samos.”
“That’s our job.”
“You have witnessed what Disa is capable of.”
I nodded, realized she couldn’t see me, and said, “Yes, I have.”
“Surely it is enough to give you reason to kill her as well?”
I glanced up at Vayl. The wish in both our eyes was so strong I half expected it to leap into life between us, a wooden stake that would fly straight into the Deyrar’s heart. “Oh, I have plenty of reason. But she’s bound Vayl. So unless we can figure out how to release him, it’s not going to happen. I’m sorry, Aine,” I said, in response to the dirgelike turn of the music. “At this point, even if Vayl was free, I believe that if I killed her it would be outright murder.” And I’ve already tried that once. I felt chilled as I remembered that moment. How close I’d come to ending my career. Losing my freedom. Most probably my life. And how none of that would’ve meant anything if Vayl had turned to mist before my eyes.
We felt the door budge behind us and moved aside so Niall could come into the room.
“Rastus is wildly upset that the Weres have escaped. He is afraid Disa will take off his head if he doesn’t recover them before they can cause us terrible trouble. And this is the only reason he has not killed you outright.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Apparently someone freed the bear, which allowed him to escape in your vehicle. Of course, Rastus thinks that someone was you, since he encountered you outside around that time.”
“No kidding?” I said blandly.
“I reminded him that you were under the protection of the Deyrar’s contract, but that may not stop him if he catches you alone. So I suggest you avoid him at all costs.”
Bitten to Death Page 14