Bloody Bones (25 page)

“I can see why.”

“His barbaric act gave us glamor. Power. But it was still purchased by blood, Ms. Blake. After Rawhead and Bloody Bones was imprisoned, my ancestor gave up his potion. He finally saw it as evil. Though his power faded, his children had the power of fairie in their blood. So here we are,” she said.

“So you've got Rawhead and Bloody Bones hidden in some magic box somewhere?” I asked.

She smiled, and it made her face seem suddenly young and lovely. I had no way of judging her age. I couldn't see a line on her face. “When the magic failed the first time, Rawhead and Bloody Bones grew to its full size. It is bigger than a person, almost as big as a giant. It is imprisoned in a mound of earth and magic.”

“You say it nearly wiped out an entire tribe way back when?”

She nodded.

I sighed. “I have to see where it's imprisoned.”

“You promised . . . ”

“I promised not to tell the police, but you've just told me there's a giant-sized creature capable of mass destruction imprisoned near here. I have to see that it's secure, that it's not going to break out and start slaughtering people.”

“I assure you, Ms. Blake, our family has managed for centuries. We know what we're doing.”

“If I can't tell the cops, I have to see for myself.”

She stood up, trying to use her height to intimidate me. She wasn't even close. “And you'll bring the police, right? Do you think I'm that stupid?”

“I won't bring the cops, Ms. Bouvier, but I have to see it. If it does break out and I didn't warn the cops, then it would be my fault that no one was prepared.”

“You can't prepare for Bloody Bones,” she said. “It is immortal, Ms. Blake, truly immortal. It cannot die. You could cut off its head and it would not die. The police can do nothing but make things worse.”

She had a point. “I still need to see for myself.”

“You are a stubborn woman.”

“Yeah, I can be a real pain in the ass, Ms. Bouvier. Let's not dance, just take me to see the prison, and if it's secure I'll leave you to it.”

“If it's not secure enough for you?” she asked.

“We contact a witch and see what she recommends.”

She frowned. “You wouldn't just go to the police?”

“If my home was robbed, I'd call the cops. If I need help with magic, I call somebody who can do magic.”

“You are a strange woman, Ms. Blake. I don't understand you.”

“There's a lot of that going around,” I said. “Do I get to see where Rawhead and Bloody Bones is buried, or not?”

“Alright, I'll show you.”

“When?”

“Without Magnus we're shorthanded at the bar, so not today. Come to the bar around three tomorrow. I'll take you from there.”

“I have a coworker that I'd like to bring along,” I said.

“One of those in the bedroom?”

“No.”

“Why do you want to bring him?”

“Because I'm training him, and when will he ever get to see fey magic again?”

She seemed to think about it for a minute, then nodded. “Alright, you may bring one other person with you, but no more.”

“Trust me, Ms. Bouvier, one is plenty.”

“My friends call me Dorrie,” she said. She held out her hand.

“I'm Anita.” I shook her hand. She had a nice, firm grip for a woman. Sexist but true. Most women don't seem to know how to give a good handshake.

She held my hand longer than she had to. When she took her hand back, I remembered Magnus's clairvoyance. Dorrie turned those wide, eerie eyes to me. She held her hand to her chest like it hurt. “I see blood, and pain, and death. It follows you like a cloud, Anita Blake.”

I watched horror seep into her eyes. Horror at the brief glimpse she'd had of me, my life, my past. I didn't look
away. If you're not ashamed, you don't need to look away. Sometimes I would prefer a different line of work, but it's what I do, who I am.

The look faded from her eyes, and she blinked. “I won't underestimate you, Anita.”

Dorrie looked normal again, or as normal as she had when she first came in, which wasn't very. Now for the first time I looked at her and wondered if I was seeing what was really there. Was she using glamor on me now, to appear normal? To appear less powerful than she was?

“I'll return the favor, Dorrie.”

She flashed me that lovely smile again that made her seem young and vulnerable. Illusion, maybe? “Until tomorrow, then.”

“Until tomorrow,” I said.

She left, and I locked the door behind her. So Magnus's family were the guardians of a monster. Had that had something to do with why he ran? Dorrie didn't think it was a reason. She should know. But there was a feeling in the room of power gently moving on the air currents. A faint whiff of magic traced the air like perfume, and I hadn't known it until just before she left. Maybe Dorrie was just as good with glamor as Magnus, just more subtle. Could I really trust Dorrie Bouvier? Hmmm.

Why had I asked if Larry could go along? Because I knew it would please him. It might even make up for treating him so badly in front of Jason. But standing there, sensing Dorrie Bouvier's power hanging like a ghost in the air, I wasn't sure it was a good idea. Oh, hell, I knew it wasn't, but I was going, and Larry would go, too. He had a right to go. He even had a right to endanger himself. I couldn't keep him safe forever. He was going to have to learn to take care of himself. I hated it, but I knew it was true.

I wasn't ready to cut the apron strings, but I was going to have to lengthen them a bit. I was going to give Larry the proverbial rope. Here was hoping he didn't hang himself.

22

I
SLEPT MOST
of the day, and when I woke up, I discovered that nobody would let me come play. Everybody was running scared of the Quinlan lawsuit, and I was persona non grata everywhere I tried to go. Agent Bradford sent me packing, and threatened to have me jailed for obstruction of justice and hampering a police investigation. That's gratitude for you. The day was a bust. The only person who would talk to me was Dolph. All he could tell me was that they hadn't found any sign of Jeff Quinlan, or his sister's body. No one had seen Magnus either. The cops were questioning people, searching for clues, while I twiddled my thumbs, but neither of us came up with anything useful.

I watched darkness fall with a sense of relief; at least now we could get on with it. Larry had gone back to his room. I hadn't asked. Maybe he wanted to give me some privacy with Jean-Claude. Scary thought, that. At least Larry was talking to me. Nice that someone was.

I opened the drapes and watched the glass turn black. I'd brushed my teeth in Larry's room today. My own bathroom was suddenly off limits. I just didn't want to see Jason naked, and I certainly didn't want to see Jean-Claude. So, I borrowed part of Larry's room for the day.

I heard the bedroom door open but didn't turn. Somehow I knew who it was. “Hello, Jean-Claude.”

“Good evening,
ma petite.”

I turned. The room was almost in darkness. The only light was from the streetlights outside, and the glowing sign of the hotel. Jean-Claude stepped into that faint glow. His shirt had a collar so high it covered his neck completely. Mother-of-pearl buttons fastened the high collar so that his face was framed by the white, white fabric. There must have been a dozen buttons gleaming down the pleated front of his shirt. A black waist-high jacket that was almost too black to be seen hid the sleeves. Only the shirt's cuffs showed; wide and stiff, covering half his hand. He raised a hand to the light
and the cuffs bent back underneath to give his hand a full range of motion. His tight black pants were stuffed into another pair of black boots. They came all the way up his legs, so that he was encased in leather; black on black buckled straps held the soft leather in place.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Yeah, it's spiffy.”

“Spiffy?” There was an edge of humor to that one word.

“You just can't take a compliment,” I said.

“My apologies,
ma petite.
It was a compliment. Thank you.”

“Don't mention it. Can we go get your coffin now?”

He stepped out of the light, so I couldn't see his face. “You make it sound so simple,
ma petite.”

“Isn't it?”

Silence then, so thick the room felt empty. I almost called out to him; instead I walked to the bar and turned on the track lighting above it. The soft white light glowed in the dark like a lighted cave. I felt better with the light. But with my back to where I thought he should be, I couldn't sense Jean-Claude. The room felt empty. I turned and there he was, sitting in one of the chairs. Even when I looked at him, there was no sense of movement. It was like a stop-action picture waiting for the switch to go on.

“I wish you wouldn't do that,” I said.

He turned his head and looked at me. His eyes were solid darkness. The faint light picked up blue sparks from them. “Do what,
ma petite?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. What's so complicated about tonight? I feel like you're not telling me everything.”

He stood in one smooth motion almost like he skipped part of the process, and was just suddenly on his feet. “It is within our rules for Serephina to challenge me tonight.”

“Is that the master's name, Serephina?”

He nodded.

“You don't think I'll tell the cops?”

“I will take you to her,
ma petite.
There will be no time for your impatience to make you foolish.”

If I'd been stuck here all day with nothing much to do, but
had had the name, would I have tried to find her on my own? Yeah, I would have.

“Fine, let's go.”

He paced the room, smiling and shaking his head.
“Ma petite,
do you understand what it will mean if she challenges me tonight?”

“It means we fight them, right?”

He stopped pacing and came into the light. He slid onto one of the bar stools. “There is no fear in you, none.”

I shrugged. “Being afraid doesn't help. Being prepared does. Are you afraid of her?” I looked at him, trying to read that lovely mask.

“I do not fear her power. I believe us to be near equals in that, but let us say I am wary. All things being equal, I am still in her territory with only one of my wolves, my human servant, and Monsieur Lawrence. It is not the show of force I would have chosen to confront her after two centuries.”

“Why didn't you bring more people? More werewolves, anyway.”

“If I had had time to negotiate more of an entourage I would have, but with the rush . . .” He looked at me. “There was no time to bargain.”

“Are you in danger?”

He laughed, and it wasn't entirely pleasant. “Am I in danger, she asks. When the council asked me to divide my lands, they promised to set in place someone of power equal to or less than mine. But they did not expect me to enter her territory so unprepared.”

“Who are they? What council?”

He cocked his head to one side. “Have you really come among us so long and not heard of our council?”

“Just tell me,” I said.

“We have a council,
ma petite.
It has existed for a very long time. It is not so much a governing body as a court, or police, perhaps. Before your courts made us citizens with rights, we had very few rules, and only one law. Thou shall not draw attention to yourself. That's the law that Tepes forgot.”

“Tepes,” I said, “Vlad Tepes? You mean Dracula?”

Jean-Claude just looked at me. His face was perfectly blank, no expression. He looked like a particularly lovely statue, if a statue's eyes could glitter like sapphires. I could not read that expressionless face, nor was I meant to.

“I don't believe you.”

“About the council, our law, or Tepes?”

“The last part.”

“Oh, I assure you we did kill him.”

“You make it sound like you were around when it happened. He died in, what, the 1300s?”

“Was it 1476, or was it 1477?” He made a great show of trying to remember.

“You are not that old,” I said.

“Are you sure,
ma petite?”
He turned that unnervingly blank face to me; even his eyes went dead and empty. It was like looking at a well-constructed doll.

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

He smiled, and sighed. Life, for lack of a better word, rushed back into his face, his body. It was like watching Pinocchio spring to life.

“Shit.”

“So nice to know that I can still unnerve you from time to time,
ma petite.”

I let that go. He knew exactly the effect he had on me. “If Serephina is your equal, then you take care of her, and I'll shoot everybody else.”

“You know it will not be that simple.”

“It never is.”

He stared at me, smiling.

“Do you really think she'll challenge you?”

“No, but I wanted you to know that she could.”

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

He smiled wide enough to flash a little bit of fang. He looked wonderful in the light. His skin was pale but not too pale. I touched his hand. “You're warm.”

He glanced up at me. “Yes,
ma petite;
what of it?”

“You've slept an entire day. You should be cold to the touch until after you've fed.”

He just looked at me with his drowning eyes.

“Shit,” I said. I went for the bedroom. He didn't try to stop me. He didn't even try. It made me nervous. I was half-running by the time I hit the door.

All I could see was a pale outline on the bed. I turned on the switch by the door. The overhead light was glaring, and merciless.

Jason lay on his stomach, blond hair bright against the dark pillows. He was naked except for a pair of vibrant blue bikini briefs. I walked towards the bed, staring at his back, willing him to breathe. When I was almost at the bed I could see him breathe. Something tight in my chest loosened.

I had to kneel on the edge of the bed to reach him. I touched his shoulder. He moved under my hand. I rolled him onto his side, and he didn't try to help. He was totally passive. He stared up at me with heavy-lidded eyes. Two thin crimson lines flowed down his neck. Not a lot of blood, at least not spilled onto the sheets. I had no way of knowing how much he'd lost. How much Jean-Claude had taken.

Jason smiled at me. It was a slow, lazy smile.

“Are you alright?”

His hand slid around my waist as he rolled onto his back.

“I'll take that as a yes.” I tried to back off the bed, but his arm was firm around me, holding me. He pulled me down to his chest. I pulled the Browning on the way down. He could have stopped me, but he didn't try.

I shoved the gun against his ribs. My other hand was pressed to his bare chest, trying to hold my face a little above his. He raised his face towards mine.

“I will pull this trigger.”

He stopped with his face inches from mine. “I'll heal.”

“Is one kiss worth getting a hole punched in your side?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Everyone else seems to think so.” His face moved towards me slowly, giving me plenty of time to decide.

“Jason, release her, now.” Jean-Claude's voice filled the room with whispers like tiny echoes.

Jason let me go. I slid off the bed, the gun still naked in my hand.

“I need my wolf tonight, Anita. Try not to shoot him until after we've seen Serephina.”

“Tell him to stop hitting on me,” I said.

“Oh, I shall,
ma petite,
I shall.”

Jason lay back against the pillows. He raised one knee, his hands laying across his stomach. He looked relaxed, lascivious, but his eyes stayed on Jean-Claude.

“You are almost the perfect pet, Jason, but do not provoke me.”

“You never said she was off limits.”

“I am saying it now,” Jean-Claude said.

Jason sat up on the bed. “I'll be a perfect gentleman from now on.”

“Yes,” Jean-Claude said, “you will.” He stood there in the doorway, still lovely to look at, but dangerous. You could feel it building in the room, whispering through his voice. “Leave us for a moment,
ma petite.”

“We don't have time for this,” I said.

Jean-Claude looked at me. His eyes were still a solid midnight blue; the whites had drowned. “Are you protecting him?”

“I don't want him hurt because he got out of hand with me.”

“Yet you would have shot him.”

I shrugged. “I never said I was consistent, just serious.”

Jean-Claude laughed. The abrupt change in mood made both Jason and me jump. His laughter was rich and thick as chocolate, as if you could pull it from the air and eat it.

I glanced at Jason. He was watching Jean-Claude the way a well-trained dog will watch its master, looking for clues to what its master wanted next.

“Get dressed, my wolf, and you,
ma petite,
you must change as well.”

I was wearing black jeans and a royal blue polo shirt. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”

“We must make a show of it tonight,
ma petite.
I would not ask if it were not important.”

“I am not wearing a dress tonight.”

He smiled. “Of course not. Just something a little more
stylish. If your young friend does not have anything suitable, I believe he and Jason are about the same size. I'm sure we could find something.”

“You'll have to talk to Larry about that.”

Jean-Claude looked at me for a heartbeat. “As you like,
ma petite.
Now, if you would leave Jason to dress? I will stay in here until you have chosen more appropriate attire.”