Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter collection 11-15

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  Jean-Claude was cursing in my head in French, and though I caught a word here and there, most of it was too fast for me.

  Zerbrowski smiled, and the smile broadened until it was a grin. “You’re saying that the church trusts its members to be good little citzens, and your boyfriend isn’t that trusting.”

  “I’ll look at the new masters that have come to town at Jean-Claude’s invitation, but my money is on the Church of Eternal Life.”

  “Dolph would say it’s because you don’t want it to be Jean-Claude’s people.”

  “Yeah, he would, but I’ll tell you this, Zerbrowski, the thought that all these new little vampires have only their human morals to make them be good, makes me almost agree with Dolph.”

  “Agree on what?”

  “Kill them all.”

  Jean-Claude said, “Do not say this out loud to the police, ma petite. It may come to that, and you do not wish your friend to remember this conversation.” He was right.

  “Shit, Anita, some of your best friends are bloodsuckers.”

  “Yeah, but there are rules to being a vampire, and Malcolm is trying to treat them like they’re just people with fangs. They aren’t, Zerbrowski, they really aren’t. Even if this turns out to be a bunch of rogues that somehow slipped through everyone’s radar. Mine, Jean-Claude’s, and Malcolm’s, we are so going to have to talk to him about his new policy.”

  “Why I do I think when you said, we, just now, you weren’t including me, or any of the cops?” He was looking at me, and the joking, lecherous comments were gone. I was seeing a very intelligent pair of cop eyes.

  I sighed and took a step toward the ladder. I’d said too much, way too much. Jean-Claude’s voice in my head, “You must say something to take the sting out of your words, ma petite.”

  Out loud, to Zerbrowski, I thought of something to say. “I’m tired Zerbrowski, please don’t tell Dolph that I think all the vamps in the church should be done in. I don’t mean it, not really.”

  “I won’t tell anyone, especially not Dolph. He’d probably start with his new daughter-in-law, and wouldn’t that be a shit.”

  I nodded. “But if we had hundreds of vamps go bad, all at once, I’m still who gets the call. I so don’t want to ever have to try to take on that many of them. I’m good, but not that good.”

  “For a few hundred, even you’d need help,” he said. He let out a long breath. “I can see where the thought would piss you off, and make you tired. Hell, it makes me tired, and nervous.”

  “I’ll try to find out how long this no-blood-oath policy has been in effect,” I said.

  “And then what?”

  I had my hands on the ladder. “I’ll deal with it.”

  “Ma petite, you are being uncautious again.”

  I whispered, “Get out of my head.”

  “What does that mean, Anita? You’re a federal marshal, you can’t do the Lone Ranger shit anymore. You got a badge.”

  I leaned my forehead on the ladder, got mud on my face, and jerked back. I told him as much of the truth as I could. “We’ll give Malcolm a choice, either he blood oaths everybody, or Jean-Claude does.” Jean-Claude was suddenly louder than ever in my head. “Stop there, ma petite, I beg you, do not say it out loud.”

  What I didn’t say out loud was that any vampire that didn’t want to take the ceremony was probably dead. I had Jean-Claude’s memory of it now, and I knew the blood oath was one of their most strenuously observed laws. I’d seen what could happen if the oath wasn’t strong enough, what would happen if it wasn’t there at all.

  I was actually on the ladder, when Zerbrowski said, “And what if the vamps don’t want to take the oath?”

  I stayed frozen on the ladder for a second, then lied, “I’m not sure. I’m hoping that it’s just Malcolm and not every church of their’s across the country that’s doing this. You’re talking about something that’s never been done before, Zerbrowski. As far as I know, no master vamp has ever just allowed vamps to breed like this without securing himself as their leader in more than just name. It’s never been done before. Vamps aren’t big on new ideas.”

  “Are you talking about killing the ones that won’t take the oath? Anita, they’ve got rights.”

  “I know that, Zerbrowski, better than most.” I was cursing Malcolm, cursing him for the mess he’d started. Even if the murderers weren’t his people, it was only a matter of time. Vampires are not people, they don’t think like people. I realized that Malcolm was trying to do with the Church of Eternal Life what Richard had tried to do with the Thronnos Rokke Clan. Both of them were trying to treat the monsters like they were just people. They weren’t. God help us, but they weren’t.

  Jean-Claude whispered, “We will need to send envoys to the church and see how bad it truly is.”

  I didn’t answer, because I was pretty sure who one of the envoys would be. Me.

  I started up the ladder, and only when Zerbrowski whistled did I remember what I was wearing under the skirt. “Blake, you have a very nice . . .”

  “Don’t say it, Zerbrowski.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if you say it, I’ll put you on the ground.”

  “Ass,” he said.

  “I warned you,” I said.

  He laughed.

  When we were both on solid ground, I footswept him into a convenient patch of mud. He cursed me, everyone laughed. He said, “I’ll tell Katie you were mean to me.”

  “She’ll be on my side.” And she would be. In fact, I knew Katie Zerbrowski well enough to know that her husband wouldn’t tell her he’d told me I had a nice ass. She’d consider it rude.

  Jean-Claude’s echo in my head was, but you do. I told him to shut up, too, and this time he listened. “Dawn is near, and I must rest. We will speak again when I wake.”

  “Pleasant dreams,” I whispered.

  “The dead do not dream, ma petite.” And he was gone.

  48

  THE SECURITY GUY hadn’t liked stripping. I told him he could do it in privacy with just me and the nice officers watching, or he could do it on one of the stages. His choice. He’d looked like he didn’t believe me, but wasn’t willing to risk it. He was clean, no vamp bites. On the one hand, shit, because a master vamp is harder to catch, harder to keep, and harder to kill. On the other hand, great, because the list of vamps that could do this was pretty small. Or it was if I understood the deal between Malcolm and Jean-Claude. Okay, technically it had been a deal struck between Malcolm and Nikolaos, the old Master of the City. Having met her, hell, having killed her, I’d sympathized with vamps flocking to the church and not wanting to owe her a damn thing. But Jean-Claude had honored her treaty with the church, on a few conditions. One, no master-level vamps allowed in town without running it by Jean-Claude. So either Malcolm had reneged on the deal, or he didn’t know that he had someone that powerful in his community. Or neither Malcolm nor Jean-Claude had felt someone that powerful enter their territory. If that last were true, we were in deep, deep trouble, because that would raise the power level to something none of us would want to deal with.

  Or had Jean-Claude approved a master for Malcolm without understanding that there would be no blood oath to keep control of it? I had so many questions that my head hurt, and no way of getting them answered until Jean-Claude woke for the day. I drove back to St. Louis in dawn’s early light, happy I had sunglasses with me. Happy that I wasn’t driving directly east. The indirect brightness was bad enough.

  The Circus was closer than my own house, so that’s where I went. I bunked there sometimes to have a date with Jean-Claude, but often just because it was closer to crash. My eyes were so tired they burned, and my body had that achiness that feels almost like you’re sick, but is just your body using up all its reserves to keep you awake and moving.

  I pulled into the employee parking lot of Circus of the Damned at nearly 8:30 in the morning. There were three other cars in the lot. One was Jason’s, and I didn’t know th
e others on sight. But it had to be people who didn’t just work here, but also lived here, and knew how to drive. That narrowed it down. I thought Meng Die drove, and maybe Faust, but I just wasn’t sure, and was too tired to care.

  I walked across the parking lot in the fast growing light, and fought off an urge to hunch my shoulders. I used my key on the back door, and I pushed my way into the blessed dimness of a storage room.

  I locked the door behind me, leaning against it for a second or two. Not long ago there hadn’t been a lock on the back door at all, you had to have someone let you in, but I’d had them put in a better door, reinforced steel, with a lock. Without the lock they’d had to keep someone in a little lookout up near the roof. The lookout would send someone down if the person at the door needed in. I said it seemed silly, since there was a lock on the outer doors in front. It just made it harder for the employees to get in, and besides there was a small window just before dawn when sometimes the lookout was empty, and that was often when I was trying to get inside. Banging on the door at dawn just got discouraging.

  I made sure the door was secure behind me, then I wound my way through the boxes that were always there, to the big door that led to the stairs. The stairs went down, a long way down. I was tired enough that if there’d been an elevator I would have taken it. But there wasn’t. The stairs were actually part of the defenses of the Circus. One, it was a lot of stairs, so you had to be fairly serious to go down them. Two, there were places along the way that we could set up ambushes if we needed to. Three, the stairs were oddly made, as if whatever they’d originally been made for hadn’t walked on two legs, or at least hadn’t been the size of a human being. If you didn’t know what awaited you down below, you might start wondering what used these stairs. Actually, just vamps and wereanimals, but our enemies didn’t know that. Jean-Claude encouraged the rumors that there were other things down here, bigger, less human things. Fine with me, keep your enemies scared and guessing.

  By the time I got to the big iron door at the bottom, my vision was blurry from lack of sleep. I dragged my keys back out. The key to this door wasn’t hard to find. It was the only huge, old-fashioned key on the ring. It looked like a giant among dwarves compared to the modern keys.

  I put the key in, and the lock moved, smooth and well-oiled. The hinges were just as quiet, though probably if I had only been human strong I might have had to struggle with the weight of the door. It was meant to withstand battering by bigger things than hands.

  I closed it behind me, and locked it, and set the big bar in place. If anyone else was dragging their ass in this late, they were out of luck. But you were usually safe this far after dawn to set the bigger lock in place. The fact that it hadn’t been set probably meant Jean-Claude had figured I’d come here for the day.

  I passed through the long, silky curtains that formed the walls of the living room. I actually didn’t give much attention to the gold and white and silver furniture, or the painting above the faux fireplace. Sleep was the only thing on my mind, now that the outer door was locked.

  I went to Jean-Claude’s room, but I should have known better. I found him and Asher curled under the sheets. Both of them beautiful in death as in life. Asher’s golden waves lay like metallic foam upon a white pillow. His eyes were closed, so I couldn’t see his pale blue eyes, like the eyes of a Siberian husky. As pale a blue as Jean-Claude’s were a dark blue. Asher lay on his side, so that the unscarred side of his face was up to the light. They’d left a light on for me, probably. Without a light, the room was dark as a cave. No windows. Jean-Claude lay spooning against Asher’s back, one arm over the other man’s waist, his hand trailing along the scars on the right side of Asher’s body. Asher had been the blond beauty to Jean-Claude’s brunette once, then some well-meaning church officials had captured him and used holy water to drive the devil out of him. Holy water acts on vampire flesh like acid on ours. Those same officials had burned Asher’s human servant and love, Julianna, at the stake. Christianity is a fine religion, but some of the things done in the name of it, aren’t so nice.

  I touched Jean-Claude’s face, moved a stray lock of his hair behind one pale shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch, and would just get colder. I kissed Asher’s forehead, and it was like kissing the dead. Vampires didn’t sleep at dawn, they died. They truly were animated corpses. I just wasn’t sure what exactly animated them.

  I couldn’t sleep in the bed with two corpses. The cooling flesh just creeped me out. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to sleep with a vampire, I mean really sleep. Which left me wondering what bed to use. If there’d been a couch in the room, I would have used it, but there wasn’t. Until I’d asked, there hadn’t even been chairs. When you’ve got a bed this big, I guess who wants to sit in a chair?

  I walked back out and closed the door softly behind me, not that it would wake them, but just out of habit. I went to Jason’s room. I’d bunked with him before. I didn’t knock, because I expected everybody to be asleep, and I was right. Jason was curled up tight on the far edge of the bed, his blond hair showing just above the covers. Someone else was curled against his back, and for just a second I thought I’d goofed, and it was a woman, but I knew that spill of auburn hair. Nathaniel was bunking here for the night. Again, not the first time.

  They’d left the bathroom light on, with the door opened a crack. I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit, or so Nathaniel would know where he was if he woke in the middle of the night. The first few times I’d woken in absolute darkness in one of these windowless rooms, it had been claustrophobic. I liked a little light.

  I’d cleaned the mud off my face in the car with the baby wipes, and once I got my boots and hose off, I was going to be mud-free. It was nearly a miracle that I hadn’t fallen down, wearing the heels in the mud. I took off the leather jacket and folded it nicely. There was no chair, so I sat flat on the floor and unzipped the boots and stripped off the hose, putting them against a wall, so no one would stumble over them. The skirt was stiff with dried blood. The fact that none of the vamps in the club had said anything about it said either that they couldn’t smell it, or they thought remarking on it would have been too barbaric.

  I left the skirt in a pile by itself. I wasn’t even sure dry cleaning could save it.

  I took off the white T-shirt and made a third pile for clothes that were actually clean. The bra went in that pile. I put the T-shirt back on and kept the thong underwear, too. I’d have slept better without the thong, but the T-shirt wasn’t enough clothes. I’d never slept nude with Nathaniel, and I had with Jason only once, when I’d passed out that way. I needed jammies. What I wanted more than anything in that moment was to wrap as much of my tired body around Nathaniel’s body as I could, and sleep.

  I crawled under the sheets on the far side of the bed and moved until I touched Nathaniel’s bare back. The moment I touched him, he stirred in his sleep. I slid my body along his, until I spooned him from behind, which was how we slept most nights at home. He wasn’t wearing anything. It wasn’t a comment on sexual orientation for Nathaniel and Jason. It was a comment about them both being wereanimals. Wereanimals just didn’t see the point in clothes, not if they could go without them.

  I settled in against Nathaniel’s body, and he snuggled himself between my body and Jason. Who never so much as stirred. I put my face against Nathaniel’s hair, and the vanilla scent of it was enough. I was home, and I slept.

  49

  SOMETHING WOKE ME. I wasn’t sure what. I was just suddenly awake in the dimness of Jason’s bedroom. I was still curled against Nathaniel, and Jason was a dim blond shape on the other side of him. Nothing had changed, so what had woken me?

  I lay there, straining to listen. There was nothing to hear. It was just the boys’ quiet breathing, the rustle of a sheet when Jason moved in his sleep. The room was utterly quiet. Had I heard something? Then I did hear something—water. Water running in the bathroom.

  I slid my hand under my pillow, and t
he Browning was there in its holster. If I wasn’t at home with the gun in its bedframe holster, then I kept the gun holstered and snapped, just in case. It’d be a shame if someone’s hand accidentally offed the safety, and another hand hit a trigger, and well, you get the idea. I unsnapped the holster, drew out the gun, and put a hand over Nathaniel’s mouth.

  He jerked awake, eyes wide. I motioned with the gun toward the crack of the bathroom door. He nodded and touched Jason’s shoulder, as I slipped out of the bed and moved toward the bathroom.

  I had the safety off, the gun held two-handed, pointed at the ceiling. It could have been one of the other shapeshifters come to borrow a shower. It would be like them, not to wake anyone and just assume it would be alright. It’d be a hell of a thing to kill someone because they used the wrong shower.

  I crossed wide around the door, so my shadow wouldn’t cross the light, though probably with the dark room behind me, that wouldn’t happen. But better careful than not. I had to ball the black silk robe up over one arm to keep from tripping over it. I didn’t remember putting on a robe.

  I was at the hinge side of the door, and I went to one knee, because if someone was on the other side with a weapon, most people aimed higher than my head was when I knelt. I kept as much of myself against the doorjamb as I could and began to ease the door open with my hands, which were still cupped around the gun. I was hoping to give my eyes time to adjust to the light, before whoever it was noticed the door moving. I knew better than to simply jump into the room from almost dark to bright light. I’d be blind for a second or two. If I’d been sure it was a bad guy, I’d have fired blind, but I wasn’t sure.

  There was water seeping out from under the door, the robe under my knees was wet with it. What I thought had been the shower running was the bathtub. I could hear the difference now. Someone had flooded the bathtub. What the hell was going on?

  I had the door flat against the wall now, and there was no one to be seen. There was just the bathtub with water spilling over its sides and the water still rushing out of the faucet at full blast. The lower part of my legs were soaked. It was cold, so cold. Like they’d turned on only the cold. Who took a bath in only cold water?