Night Huntress 07 - This Side of the Grave (30 page)

“Good, it worked,” Vlad gritted out even as his whole body was smothered by them.
“Magnificent weapon.
This hurts… absolutely everywhere.”

Voices echoed all around me, some as low as growls and others in pitches so high they sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Vlad was right; it obviously worked. Now came the
really
hard part. I’d raised them, but I had to get them off him. It was hard to concentrate with them bombarding my mind with more voices than I could ever count. If I had any hope at controlling them, I needed to use the same techniques I’d developed while learning to keep humans’ thoughts from overwhelming me.
Focus on one voice. Tune into it. Make everything else fade into the background
.

“Vlad, talk,” I urged him. It was better to stay focused on
his
voice instead of getting lost in the myriad whispers of the grave. I scrambled to my feet, only then realizing that I’d been on the ground with his last blow.

“Rather busy… at the moment,” I heard amidst the whirl of other sounds.

“I need your voice,” I insisted, shivering convulsively. I was so cold.
So tired.
So
hungry
.

Vlad began to sing, words hoarse from his obvious pain. It took me several moments to feel in control of myself enough to focus on him alone—and to be amazed that Vlad knew the lyrics to “Run This Town.” I shook that off as I stared at him. His entire body was covered in Remnants, and I tried to ignore the tie I felt to them.
The icy, ravenous hunger that threatened to blind me to everything else.

“Get off him,” I said to the sinuous, writhing forms.

Nothing happened. Not one of them even paused in their assault on him to look at me.

“Get
off
him,” I repeated, putting all my fear at what would happen if they didn’t into my voice.

Still the Remnants slithered over Vlad, coiling on and through him. His body arched in a way that was all too familiar, telling of his agony even if he wouldn’t let himself scream. Flames broke out across his hands, but the Remnants didn’t move to avoid them, nor did the fire seem to do them any damage when they slithered over them.
Why would they?
my
mind supplied in rising fear. Remnants were made of energy and air. Two things that had never been harmed by fire before.

“Go back to your graves
right now
,” I tried again, this time desperation edging my tone. Still, they didn’t even slow in their movements, or seem to hear me at all. I’d pulled them from the other side, but just as I feared, I now had no control over them. My worst-case scenario was playing out right in front of me as I saw Vlad twist in a futile effort to get away from the Remnants that just kept right on devouring him, growing stronger from his pain and energy while he grew weaker.

Then an idea seized me as I watched the flames on his hands. They did nothing to harm the Remnants, but they would sure as hell hurt
me
.

“Vlad, hit me with a fireball,” I breathed. “Passing out last time was what severed my connection with the Remnants, I think.”

It was worth a shot. If I was no longer connected to them, maybe they’d automatically go back to where they came from. I had to try something new. My commands were useless and Vlad couldn’t last much longer like this.

“No.” The single word was filled with pain, but no less emphatic. “You’ll learn… to control them… if it kills me.”

“It
will
kill you, dammit,” I snapped in growing panic.

“Less bitching… more learning,” Vlad grated. Then he closed his eyes, as if dismissing me.
“I know, I’m delicious.
Nummy
…
nummy
,” he muttered to the Remnants feasting on him. Fire continued to drip from his hands, but he didn’t send any of those flames my way. Terror and anger rose in me at the sight of the Remnants moving even faster through his body. They were growing stronger, gaining the energy they’d need to kill him, and he was letting them.

“You’re going to die if you don’t flame me out of commission! Think of your people!” I yelled, growing desperate as nothing I did, even pulling on the Remnants with my hands, seemed to make them leave Vlad alone.

At that, his eyes snapped open, emerald green and sizzling with both agony and resolve. “I am… so
learn
,” he rasped.

I let out a scream of pure frustration. Nothing I said would convince Vlad to harm me. Not if he thought he was protecting his people by sacrificing himself.

Fine.
If Vlad wouldn’t deliver the blow that would take me out of commission, I’d do it myself.

I curled my fist and rammed it as hard as I could into the side of my head. Grass met my vision as I knocked myself over, but one glance at Vlad revealed the Remnants still hadn’t budged from him.
Son of a bitch.
I needed something harder than my hands.

A wide headstone caught my eye, an angel carved into the surface. I sent a mental apology to
whoever’s
grave it covered even as I also cast a fast prayer upward to please let this work.

Then I ran toward the tombstone as fast as I could, my body bent, leading with my head like it was a red flag and I was a bull.

Pain exploded in my mind. That wasn’t the only thing that shattered, judging from the shards of granite I saw when my eyes opened. I’d plowed right through the grave marker to land in the grass beyond. I shook my head to clear it, feeling blood running in a few thin lines down from my crown, and swung around to look for Vlad again.

A sharp cry of relief escaped me when I saw all the Remnants had picked their heads up from him. They were looking at me, their deadly assault on him suspended. Vlad began to back away and they didn’t move to jump on him again, but kept staring at me in frozen expectation. For a stunned moment, I wasn’t sure what had done the trick. It wasn’t passing out; they were all still here. Was destroying a tombstone with my head somehow the magic word to them? But then, as I felt those wet trails edging further down my face, it hit me.

Blood
.
That was their remote control. The Remnants had only appeared after Vlad bloodied my lip, just like they’d only appeared after Marie sliced her wrist with that little mini dagger in her ring. She must have cut herself with it again to draw them off when I wasn’t looking. That would have been easy; I’d been staring in horror at Bones more than focusing on her. The fresh blood from my head was enough to get them to stop chewing on Vlad, but it would soon heal like my lip had. I couldn’t let them turn on Vlad again. He couldn’t take much more.

I didn’t bother taking the time to pull out one of my knives, but slammed my hand onto the jagged, sharp remains of the headstone, inflicting another deep laceration.

“All right, you deadly little
ghostlings
,” I muttered. “Mama says go back to
bed
!”

I shut the car door, leaning against it
for a second, thinking that if life were fair, I could go upstairs and take the longest, hottest shower on record to help chase away the chill that still permeated every cell of me. Instead, we were back at the town house just so I could quickly change clothes. Couldn’t quite pull off my happy bar hopper disguise if I went out covered in my own blood.

“You two are back early,” a dry voice stated.

I glanced up to see Mencheres framed in the doorway of the town house. Vlad got out, shut his door a little harder than was necessary, and threw the Egyptian vampire a jaded look.

“Car trouble,” he said, in a voice that dared Mencheres to inquire further.

“You’re back a bit early yourself. Did you find anything interesting?” I asked, trying to divert his attention from the obvious fact that I was splattered in blood while the car looked and sounded fine.

“Nothing Dave had not already confirmed,” Mencheres replied, with a slight shrug.

I didn’t sigh, but I felt like it. Guess it was too much to hope that
Apollyon’s
address would be spray painted graffiti-style on one of the walls as an appeasement gesture from Fate after the night we had—and it was still early, by vampire standards.

“Don’t be disappointed, Cat. I didn’t expect to find anything. That’s not why I went,” Mencheres said, opening the front door for us.

My brows rose, but I went inside, figuring this conversation was best held somewhere other than on the small lawn. Vlad glanced at Mencheres with equal curiosity but also followed me inside. Once the door was shut, I gave a longing glance at the couch but stayed standing.

“Are you going to tell us why you went, then?” I asked.

“Because even if I didn’t expect to find anything new, it would be foolish not to make certain,” Mencheres said. He leaned against the door frame, the picture of nonchalance. “Besides, if I hadn’t left, then you wouldn’t have attempted to exercise your new powers, would you?” he added.

“You
knew
?” I blurted, not sure which stunned me more; the fact that Mencheres was obviously aware that I had the ability, or that he’d let me try using it without telling Bones on me. “Did you, um, know because you saw it?” It would be great if his visions were back up to full strength again…

The look Mencheres gave me—and Vlad, too, I noticed—was pointed. “No. But I, too, heard you this morning, so I didn’t need a vision to predict what Vlad would do if the two of you were left alone long enough. People’s natures can be far more telling than even visions at times.”

Vlad let out a chuckle. “You sly dog, you set me up! Here I thought I was pulling one over on you, but in reality, you were playing me like a chess piece.”

Mencheres flashed him a grin that was full of mischief. I stared, never having seen the normally reserved mega-Master vampire with such a wicked, teasing expression.

“You forget, Vlad, I’m the one who trained you in deviousness. Maybe in a few more centuries, you’ll be able to outwit me, but not yet.”

Then he focused his attention on me and his expression returned to its normal seriousness. “You were obviously injured trying, but did it work?”

I glanced at Vlad before speaking, noting the curl of his lip that said he’d rather not dwell on how well it had worked.

“Oh yeah.
Blood is the key. I should have known, right? It’s always blood with the undead. Vampires need it to feed, and it’s instrumental with ghouls, because a transplanted ghoul heart might be step two in making them, but it’s vampire blood before and after death that’s step one and three.”

And blood was how Marie had gotten her powers in the first place, as a Mambo whose powers became permanent when she was turned into a ghoul. Looking back, it seems obvious that blood should have been the first thing I tried.

Then again
, my logic pointed out,
Vlad hadn’t thought of it, either, and he has quite a lot more experience with blood than you
. Maybe I should quit giving myself a hard time and just accept that only hindsight was twenty-twenty, not foresight.

“We now know I can do it, but I feel like hell,” I went on. “I’m so cold my teeth would chatter if they still could. And I’m hungry enough that both of you are starting to look really, really good.”

Vlad’s
lips curled. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to remind you that this is just the leftover power talking and you don’t really want to cheat on Bones?”

“Not
that
kind of hungry!” I gasped, eyes bulging that Vlad thought I’d just casually thrown out that I wanted him and Mencheres to double-team me. “I meant hungry like drinking you guys’
blood
. Not hungry for… you know.”

Without thought, my gaze flew to the areas in question before skipping away once I realized what I was doing. Then my cheeks actually tingled with mortification as Vlad let out a long, hearty laugh. Mencheres, more courteous, pretended to suddenly find something fascinating in the door frame, but I saw his lips twitch.

“My dear Reaper,” Vlad said, still laughing. “Did you just check out our—”

“No!” I interrupted at once, almost lunging toward the staircase. “I’m tired and still dazed from the Remnants and… fuck it, I’m taking a shower. I mean, not a cold shower, because I don’t need that”—oh Jesus, I was only making this worse—“because I
am
cold already, and I need to get hot. I mean, warmer. Oh, just shut up!”

This as Vlad continued to laugh the whole time I went up the stairs. At least he seemed in a better mood after his near-death experience, even if his new cheer was at my expense.
Arrogant Romanian.
But considering I’d been responsible for
Vlad’s
recent brush with death, maybe he was owed a little masculine mockery. All things considered, his teasing was the least I could bear to make it up to him.

As for Mencheres, well, here’s hoping he chalked that up to equality. He’d seen me in less than my underwear before, so if all things were fair, I was owed that glance.

Besides, it had to be nothing more than a manifestation of the “future twinges” from her power that Marie had warned Bones about. In my right mind, I would never check out Vlad or—God help me!—Mencheres’s packages.

And neither of them was wearing tight pants, so it’s not like I could discern anything specific, anyway.