Destined for an Early Grave nh-4

by Jeaniene Frost

  I suppressed an urge to tell Liza to sit down, before the air-conditioning blew her over. Instead of the usual, instant dislike I felt for any woman Bones had slept with, I had a strangely protective feeling about Liza, absurd as that was. One, she was dead, so she didn’t need my protection. Two, judging from the discreet flashes of her gaze at Bones, she was in love with him.

  Pedophile!

  “Liza, would you please inform Cat how old you were when you were changed?” Bones asked, giving me a pointed look. “I’m about to be assaulted because of a misassumption.”

  She laughed, a shy series of sounds. “I was seventeen. I think if I’d been human, I would have been referred to as a ‘late bloomer.’”

  “Oh.” At least that wasn’t a felony in current times, and from Liza’s vibe, that would have been legal back when she was alive. “Why didn’t you wait to change over, then?”

  Something in Liza’s face clouded. “I couldn’t. I’d been poisoned and was already dead. I’m only here now because I’d drunk vampire blood that same day. My family shipped me home for burial. After my body arrived, Bones broke me out of my grave and raised me as a ghoul.”

  “Oh!” Now I felt even more like a bitch. “Sorry. Whoever it was, I hope he killed the hell out of them.”

  She smiled in a sad way. “It was accidental. A doctor gave me the poison, thinking he was treating me. Medicine’s come a long way since 1831.”

  “Speaking of medicine, we should call Don. Maybe he has something for me.”

  “Are you ill?” Liza looked surprised.

  “She’s not,” Bones stated. “Has rumor of Gregor’s claims reached here yet?”

  Liza shot a quick glance to me. “Yes.”

  “Right, then.” Bones sounded even wearier. “Means Marie would have heard them as well.” He strode to a phone and started punching numbers into the line. After a second, he began speaking in a language that didn’t sound French, but close. Creole, maybe?

  Of course, that meant I didn’t understand a friggin’ word.

  “He’s telling the person who he is, and that he desires a conference with Majestic,” Liza translated, guessing my frustration. “He’s saying he wants it with all haste…they’ve put him on hold, I think…” Made sense, Bones wasn’t talking. His fingers drummed on his leg as the seconds ticked by, and then he began again. “Yes…yes…He’s agreeing to wait for a call back.”

  Bones hung up. “No need for me to reiterate. Now you can ring your uncle, luv. Do it from your cell, I don’t want to occupy this line.”

  He was almost curt. I reminded myself that he was suffering from jet lag, lack of sleep, and no small amount of stress. While Bones filled in Liza on details concerning Gregor, I dialed Don. By the time I hung up, Don had given me instructions on the dosage of a medication and promised to have it sent immediately to me.

  “Don made something for me,” I said as soon as I hung up. “It’s supposed to knock me from consciousness straight into deep sleep, skipping REM. But it only lasts about seven hours, so then you have to counter its effects by giving me blood to wake me. That way I don’t go into a lighter, REM sleep when it wears off.”

  An expression of relief washed over Bones. “Makes me glad I didn’t kill that chap when we met like I wanted to. That’s excellent news, Kitten. I didn’t think I could stand to let you fall asleep, wondering if you’d disappear from my sight even as I held you.”

  The emotion in his tone dissolved my earlier irritation at him. If the shoe were on the other foot, and it were Bones who could vanish, yeah, I’d be spitting nails, too.

  “I’m not going to disappear.” I went to him and wrapped my arms around him.

  Then Liza’s phone rang.

  SIX

  I WANDERED AROUND THE TOWN HOUSE, struck by its size. It had a beautiful interior, wrought-iron balconies, and three levels. The walls were painted in strong hues, with white elaborate crown molding. All the bathrooms I’d seen were marble. In short, it was rich and tasteful without making me afraid to sit on the eighteenth-century chairs.

  Pieces of Bones’s influence were seen amidst the feminine touches. A collection of silver knives. Couches that cradled instead of cramped. Of course, I had time to notice such things. He’d left to see Marie without me.

  His announcement that he was going alone sent me into a sputtering, livid objection that had Liza hurrying from the room. Bones took my anger in silence, waiting until I’d finished to flatly refuse to take me. He said my presence would distract Marie from hearing him out, or some crap like that.

  I didn’t believe him for a moment. Bones was just trying to protect me again. If I wasn’t going, no matter his claims of “safe passage,” then it meant his meeting with her was dangerous. Still, it boiled down to either physically wrestling with him when it was time for him to leave or letting him go with promises of payback. I chose the latter.

  So, after I wandered around the house, I took a bath in a claw-footed tub. Then I put on a lace robe and began roaming the house again, looking for a washer and dryer. I didn’t have clean clothes to wear, and nothing of Liza’s would fit me. It was too early to buy something new, either. The only thing still open after three in the morning was the bars.

  When Bones returned, it was almost dawn. He came through the door, pausing at the sight of Liza and me. We were on the floor, and I was braiding her hair. While he’d been gone, I’d struck up a conversation with Liza. She seemed to be a truly nice person, and I’d come to like her with surprising quickness. I gave Bones a single, lasered glance even as I melted with relief that he was safe, then resumed my attention to Liza’s hair.

  “Your hair is gorgeous. So thick. You should grow it until you trip over it.”

  “I see the two of you are getting on,” Bones said with faint astonishment. “Aren’t you going to ask me how it went, Kitten?”

  “You walked in and took the stairs one at a time,” I answered. “And you haven’t barked at me to get in the car, so I take it Majestic didn’t tell you our asses were trophies for hunting season. Am I wrong?”

  His lip curled. “Still brassed off at me, I see. Then you should enjoy this—Marie wants to meet you, and she refuses to let me be present when she does.”

  I laughed with a sharp, self-satisfied guffaw.

  “God, Bones, you must have argued yourself blue in the face. Hell, I like her already.”

  “Thought you’d fancy that.” His expression told me how unamusing he found it. “Should I leave you to your braiding and take myself to bed? You seem to find Liza’s company preferable to mine.”

  “Really annoying when you have to sit back and twiddle your thumbs while the person you love goes off into danger, isn’t it?” I said, not feeling guilty in the least.

  “I didn’t relish the thought of leaving you behind,” he shot back. “Yet you’re almost cackling over your chance to do the same to me.”

  Liza’s head swiveled back and forth between the two of us. Since I still had three of her braids in my hands, however, that made it more difficult.

  “You didn’t care how I felt, as long as I stayed behind,” I flared, the tension from the past several days catching up with me. “So yeah, I’m enjoying the payback. Guess that makes me shallow.”

  “It makes you a spiteful brat,” Bones snapped, striding forward until he loomed over me. “What say you to that?”

  I dropped Liza’s braids and got to my feet. So the gloves were off, huh? “That it takes one to know one. What’s the matter? Are you mad that you sauntered in there, swinging your dick at Marie and reminding her about old times, but you didn’t get the results you wanted?”

  “For your information, I have never shagged Marie.” Bones actually jabbed me in the chest as he spoke. Liza scrambled out of the way.

  I gave an incredulous glance down at his finger, still pressed into my chest. “Get that off me or I’ll knock it off.”

  His brow arched in open dare. “Take your best shot, luv.”


  You asked for it. My fist connected with his jaw. Bones ducked before I could land another one, green flashing out of his eyes.

  “Is that all you’ve got? Not nearly good enough.” And he jabbed me in the chest again.

  Oh, it’s on now, honey!

  I grabbed his wrist and yanked, kicking his shin at the same time to throw him off balance. He was too quick, though, leaping over my sweeping leg and using my momentum against me. One light shove in the back had me sprawling into the couch. Liza let out a horrified bleat.

  “Please, both of you, stop!”

  I ignored her. So did Bones. My pulse sped up in anticipation as I got to my feet. The opportunity to blow off some steam with a full-fledged brawl sounded great to me. From the glittering green in his eyes, he was game, too.

  But just to be certain…“Sure you want to play rough?” I asked, keeping my mind blank of my intentions.

  His smile was smug, taunting, and sexy as he let me draw close. “Why not? I’m winning.”

  I smiled back. Then I rammed my fist into his stomach. Take every cheap shot, Bones had taught me when he trained me years ago. Who said I didn’t pay attention?

  But instead of doubling over like I’d expected, he flung me straight up over his shoulders. My body cracked against the ceiling, knocking the wind out of me. I had a split second to kick off the crown molding before he flew at me, and he hit empty space instead. I rolled when I hit the floor, knocking over the coffee room table in my scramble to get away.

  He was on me in the next moment. A gloating smile met my gaze as Bones pressed his full weight down to hold me. The top of my robe had sagged open, leaving my bare breast rubbing against his shirt as I squirmed under him. He glanced down, tracing the inside of his lip with his tongue.

  “Give up now?” he asked.

  My heart hammered with excitement even as I wanted to smack the smirk off his face. He’d left my arms free, which was a mistake.

  “Not yet.” I reached behind me and grabbed the first thing my hands made contact with. Then I heaved it over my head at him.

  The marble coffee table split into large pieces when it crashed over Bones. It hit his head, dazing him, which I took advantage of. I’d wiggled out from under him and was about to crow over my victory—when I felt twin iron bands cut into my ankles. I tried to twist away, but he held on, shaking the table remnants from him. The only thing in reach was the pewter serving platter. I grabbed it and brandished it like a weapon.

  “I’ll use this next!” I warned him.

  Still gripping my ankles, Bones blinked up at me. I glanced around, seeing Liza in the far corner with her hand stuffed in her mouth, horrified. Hopscotch and Band-Aid lingered near the doorway, not knowing what to do.

  All at once, I started to laugh.

  Bones’s mouth twitched. Liza’s eyes bugged when he let out a chuckle. It grew even as mine did, until he let go of my ankles and we were laughing helplessly together.

  Bones shook the marble remains from his head, still laughing. “Bloody hell, Kitten. Never thought to be flogged by my own furniture. Do you know I saw bloomin’ stars when that cracked over my nog?”

  I knelt next to him, raking my fingers through his hair to get out the last of the table’s shards. His eyes were bright green, and the laughter caught in my throat when he yanked me closer and kissed me.

  His mouth was hard, demanding a response. The adrenaline inside me changed to something else as I gripped him back with equal urgency. I had time to hear the door shut behind the hasty retreat of our three onlookers before his body flattened mine.

  “We haven’t sparred together in quite a while,” Bones murmured as his mouth slid down my throat. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it.”

  His hand caressed up my thigh without restriction, as I still had nothing on under the robe. A primal sound came from me when his fingers stroked between my legs.

  “Seems you enjoyed it, too,” he whispered.

  I tugged at his shirt, ignored the pieces of the table everywhere, and slid my legs around him.

  “I need you.”

  I wasn’t just talking about how much I wanted him. I’d hated the distance between us the past few days. Right now, I was desperate to feel close to him. To believe that everything would work out, no matter how crazy things got.

  He pushed me back against the couch, yanking down his pants. I groaned at the deluge of sensations his first thrust caused, biting his shoulder to keep from shouting at how good it felt.

  Bones pressed my head closer as he moved deeper inside me. “Harder,” he said with a moan.

  I sank my teeth in, swallowing his blood when I broke his skin. The small wound healed as soon as I drew away to kiss him.

  His mouth covered mine, stealing my breath with the intensity of his kiss. “I love it when you bite me,” Bones growled once I broke away to gasp in air.

  I held him tighter, my fingernails digging into his back. “Show me how much.”

  A low laugh escaped him. He began to move faster.

  “I intend to.”

  Bones woke me with beignets and coffee, and we lingered in bed a while afterward. The surliness between us from before was gone, at least for the time being.

  Since my meeting with Marie was tonight, we were still under her guest column, so we still had safe passage in the city. To take advantage of that, we toured the French Quarter. I didn’t need a jacket with the hot August weather, but I did put on sunscreen.

  Bones led me from Bourbon Street to Jackson Square, then to the Saint Louis Cathedral, which looked very similar to some of the churches I’d glimpsed in Paris. After that, we stopped at Lafitte’s Blacksmith shop, one of the oldest buildings in the Quarter. While outside sipping a gin and tonic at one of the tables, I looked up to find a ghost suddenly standing next to us.

  “Sod off, mate,” Bones told him. “As I was saying, luv, during the Great Fire—”

  “It’s wretched justice that only the crazies care enough to talk to you when you’re dead,” the ghost muttered. “No vampire or ghoul will even bid you good day.”

  Bones made an irritated noise. “Right then, good day, now off you go.”

  “She’ll wonder who you’re talking to,” the ghost smirked in my direction. “Think you’re mad, she will—”

  “I can see you,” I interrupted.

  If someone partially transparent could look baffled, he did. Eyes that might have been blue narrowed.

  “You don’t feel touched,” he accused.

  “You mean psychic? I’m many things, but not that. Isn’t it a little rude, though, to plop down and start chatting away when we were having a conversation? You didn’t even say ‘excuse me.’”

  “Kitten, I warned you about talking to them.” Bones sighed.

  “I didn’t think you’d speak to me,” the ghost replied, starting to smile. “The undead”—he nodded at Bones—“just ignore us. They’re among the few who can see us, but they don’t even care!”

  He spoke with such impassioned resonance, I would have patted him if he had been solid. Instead, I gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “What’s your name? I’m Cat.”

  He bowed, his head going through the table. “I am Fabian du Brac. Born 1877, died 1922.”

  Bones leaned back in his chair. “Fabian, splendid to meet you. Now, if you please, we’re rather busy.”

  “You’re Bones,” the ghost stated. “I’ve seen you before. You’re always too busy to talk to us.”

  “Bloody right I am, nosy spectre—”

  “Bones.” I tugged his arm. “He knows who you are!”

  “Kitten, what does that…”

  His voice trailed off as what I was mentally shouting penetrated. Then he turned his full attention to Fabian and smiled.

  “Why, mate, I reckon you’re right. Sometimes I need to be reminded of my manners, I do. Born in 1877, you say? I remember 1877. Times were better then, weren’t they?”

  Bones was ri
ght about ghosts being talkative. Fabian blathered on rapturously about bygone days, the sewage of modern culture, favorite presidents, and the changes in Louisiana. He was like a walking encyclopedia. It was amazing how much a phantom could pick up. Like, for example, the recent influx of out-of-town ghouls in New Orleans. Their hushed gatherings. Gregor’s name kept popping up, along with whispers about a threat to the ghoul species.

  “Gregor and ghouls, eh?” Bones prodded. “What more did they say?”

  Fabian gave him a shrewd look. “I don’t want to be forgotten any longer.”

  “Of course not,” Bones agreed. “I’ve got a grand memory, I’ll remember you forever.”

  “That’s not what he means.”

  It was one of the few times I’d spoken in their conversation. Hell, I couldn’t swap tales about early-twentieth-century life, the sadness of seeing automobiles replace horses, or what the air smelled like before fossil fuels. But this part I understood.

  “Fabian wants companionship,” I said. “He’s lonely. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Maybe it was the reflection of the sunlight, but there could have been tears in the ghost’s eyes. “I want a home. Oh, I know I can’t have a real family anymore, but I want to belong to someone again.”

  Some things never change. The need for companionship transcends mortality or immortality.

  Bones had a resigned expression on his face. “Taking in strays, Kitten? Not without rules first. Any deviance from these, Fabian, would result in an immediate exorcism by the most qualified spook-slayer I could find, savvy?”

  “I’m listening.” Fabian tried to look blasé, but he was almost quivering in excitement.

  “First, you do not report any information about me, my wife, or my people to anyone alive, dead, undead, or otherwise. Got it?”

  Fabian’s head bobbed. “Agreed.”

  “Privacy is to be respected just as if you were a real boy, mate. If you think being a ghost allows for voyeurism, you’re mistaken.”