Night Huntress 07 - This Side of the Grave (39 page)

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
!”