One Grave at a Time nh-6

by Jeaniene Frost

But why didn’t he tell me before this? Like, Oh, by the by, Kitten, I’m telekinetic now. Fancy that, hmm?

  “So that was you?” Tyler relaxed as he figured out that Bones’s words combined with his furious glare meant that Kramer wasn’t the one who’d hit Graham.

  Bones looked at me, some of the tightness leaving his features.

  “It would seem so.”

  My initial spurt of irritation melted away. Good God, this ability was news to him, too?

  “You didn’t know?” I asked softly.

  His mouth twisted. “Wasn’t sure until now.”

  “I will walk out of here right now if someone doesn’t start making a lot of sense,” Chris swore. He wasn’t the only one who’d started to edge toward the front door, I noticed.

  “Ghosts aren’t the only freaky things that exist,” Tyler summed up before I could phrase a more gentle reply. The medium waved at me and Bones. “Meet the vampires.”

  Lexie let out a nervous laugh. Graham looked like he wanted to throw up. From their thoughts, Fred and Nancy were each contemplating dialing 911. Chris’s mind tilted between denial and an odd sense of triumph, like he’d suspected there was more to the supernatural world but hadn’t known what it was.

  “There’s no need to worry,” I said while wondering if I’d have to stop some of them from calling the police. “We don’t kill people—well, not people who don’t deserve it, that is, and—”

  Graham screamed, trying to run for the door. Bones had him dangling by the front of his shirt in the next blink, throwing me a sardonic look.

  “Best not to mention any killing in a reveal speech, luv.”

  “Right.” I sighed, catching Lexie and Fred as they also made a break for it. “Don’t worry,” I ordered, turning the brights on in my gaze. “We’re not going to hurt you!”

  They relaxed like I’d shot them each with a dart full of Valium. Bones whispered something I didn’t catch to Graham, but he, too, soon had a glazed and compliant expression. Chris watched everything in silence and complete stillness, his mental somersaulting the only indication that he was far less calm than he looked.

  “The way you move . . . both of you are only a blur,” he said at last.

  I shrugged. “The myths got some things right. Superspeed is one of them.”

  “What did the myths get wrong?” he asked at once.

  “Uncontrollable need to kill, wooden stakes, exploding in sunlight, cringing at crosses, lack of reflection, and, oh, the stiff-collared capes. I mean, honestly, who would go out in public wearing one of those?”

  “Fashion tragedy,” Tyler agreed.

  Chris continued to stare. “You forgot mind control.”

  “Saw that for yourself, didn’t you?” Bones replied. His tone was light, but his gaze didn’t waver from Chris’s. “You and your crew won’t remember any of this once the trap is completed, but until then, I want you to know what you’re dealing with. Then perhaps one of you won’t again tempt me to violence with his thoughts.”

  Despite the maelstrom in his mind, Chris’s bearded chin thrust out.

  “Don’t threaten my crew.”

  Bones’s brow ticked up. “Or you’ll do what?” he asked mildly.

  Chris swallowed hard. “I won’t finish the trap you’re so interested in,” he replied. If I hadn’t heard his mental prayer that these wouldn’t turn out to be his last words, I’d have sworn he had balls of steel.

  Bones clapped Chris on the shoulder in a friendly way that still caused the other man to flinch. “I could trance you into doing the same, but you’ve got bravery and loyalty, both of which I value. Keep your crew in line, and you’ll have no worries.”

  “They can’t help their thoughts, Bones,” I pointed out. Sure, I’d been annoyed at Graham’s crude musings, but clearly not as pissed as Bones if they’d triggered a telekinetic response he didn’t know he was capable of.

  Then again, anger had usually been the trigger with my borrowed abilities, and that was before I’d known I had them, too. Maybe anger was just the normal way new abilities manifested themselves. How was I supposed to know?

  “Now they’re warned that their thoughts aren’t private, so they have only themselves to blame if they don’t keep a leash on them,” was his unrelenting reply. “They should be focused on the task at hand, not on insolently pondering whether you fabricated tales of a ghost because you neglected your medication, were desperate for attention, or crazed from your monthlies.”

  “Jesus, Graham,” Chris muttered.

  “Figures. Every time something happens with a woman, you guys always bring up her period,” Lexie said, to an accompanying snort of agreement from Nancy.

  Graham flushed. “I didn’t say it out loud.”

  “And now you know that doesn’t matter,” Bones stated curtly, green flashing in his eyes again.

  I cleared my throat to defuse the tension. “Okay, everyone relax and remember we just have to get through completing the trap. Then you’ll go on with your lives with a nice fat bonus, and there’ll be one less murdering creep floating around. I think we can all agree that’s a goal worth working toward.”

  Cautious murmurs of assent sounded, but I hadn’t been looking for a fervent chorus of “whoo hoo’s!” so that was good enough for me.

  “Bones.” I gave a weary glance out the window where the sun was starting to creep up over the horizon. “Let’s get some sleep. We have a lot to do later.”

  I’d just finished putting away the groceries when my cell phone rang, its musical cadence shattering the quiet. It was just Bones and I in the house at the moment. We’d dropped the others off at the cave while we gathered enough odds and ends to keep half a dozen humans comfortable during their stay here.

  I expected to see Tyler or Chris’s cell number when I grabbed my phone, but instead the word BLOCKED appeared. Telemarketer, I thought in annoyance, and was about to hit IGNORE when I paused. What if it was someone calling on Fabian’s behalf? The ghost had to rely on others to make a call for him since he lacked the ability to physically dial, and his voice came through only as static over the phone. Fabian might have shown up at the hotel last night only to find all of us checked out and no information on where we’d gone to. Even if he’d thought to try the cave and heard from Tyler where we were staying now, with all the garlic and weed I was sporting in my clothes, not to mention what was set up around the house, Fabian might not be able to reach me.

  Just in case it was a solicitor, though, I answered the phone with an unfriendly-sounding hello.

  “Crawfield?” an equally abrupt voice asked.

  No telemarketer would have my correct name since this number was listed under one of my many aliases. But though that voice was vaguely familiar, I couldn’t place a name to it.

  “Who’s this?”

  “Jason Madigan.”

  Ah, the team’s infamous new operations consultant. From his tone, Madigan’s sourpuss mood hadn’t improved since our first meeting.

  “To what do I owe this honor?” I asked dryly.

  “You owe it to a complete lack of discretion about supernaturally sensitive information,” was his cold, measured reply.

  I needed his attitude like I needed an extra pair of tits on my ass. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Care to start making sense?” Or is that too much to ask, Mr. Brass Tacks? I mentally added.

  “From where your cell is transmitting, I’m guessing you’re at your former childhood residence,” he stated, pissing me off more that he must’ve started tracking my signal as soon as I picked up. “A chopper will be there to pick you up in thirty minutes.”

  “Sorry, but you’ll just have to tell me what’s up over the phone. I have other plans for tonight,” I said, waving Bones over and mouthing Madigan while pointing at my cell.

  “If you refuse to come, your visitation privileges at the compound will be permanently revoked.”

  A distinct click punctuated that sentence. Good thing, too, sin
ce I’d taken a deep breath so I could tell the consultant in explicit terms where he could shove his ultimatum, and that wouldn’t have been smart. He probably could revoke my visitation privileges if he tattled on me to the higher-ups for cursing him out the way I was about to.

  “What does he want, Kitten?”

  “Death by fang if he keeps this up,” I spat, my temper leaking out despite my efforts to rein it in. “I don’t know,” I amended with a tight sigh. “But now I know how frustrated Chris felt when you pointed out that he couldn’t stop you if you decided to do something he didn’t like. Karma’s a bitch, right?”

  Both dark brows arched. “Going to elaborate on what you mean?”

  “If I don’t drop everything and let myself be whisked away to the compound, so Madigan can chew me out for God-knows-what, then I only get to see my mother and the guys when they’re off base. Which, as you know, isn’t that often.”

  Bones didn’t react with instant anger as I’d done. Instead, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Good way to find out if your uncle’s discovered anything of import on the bloke, so let him feel like he’s won this round. It’ll only be to our benefit.”

  Of course. If I didn’t let Madigan push my buttons so effectively, I’d have come to the same conclusion. Don also didn’t know that he couldn’t zip to my side whenever he wanted to anymore. Aside from seeing if he’d come up with any dirt on Madigan, it was also important to let my uncle know about my change in supernatural status.

  “You’ll have to stay here, Bones. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be back in time to pick everyone up from the cave.”

  It wouldn’t be right to ask Chris’s team to wait in a damp, chilly cave most of the night, especially since they’d had to bunk on the floor without food last night. But I’d be damned if I’d ask our helicopter escort to pick up the gang first before flying us back to the house. Madigan might know about my old childhood home, but I wasn’t about to give up the cave’s location to him, too.

  Bones’s scent and the scrape of his emotions across mine let me know how much he didn’t like the idea of my going alone, but at last, he nodded.

  “You’ll take sage in case Kramer manages to locate you again.”

  Right, because I couldn’t show up to see Madigan covered in weed and garlic. Even if that wouldn’t be cause for a lot of questions, which it would, that mixture would keep Don away from me, defeating half the purpose of going.

  “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” I said, brushing his sculpted cheekbones with the tips of my fingers. “You keep some sage close by, too, and if Helsing starts to screech, light it.”

  “Oh, don’t fret about me.” Bones smiled, but something cold flashed across his face. “I’m looking forward to making that spook’s acquaintance again.”

  He might be relishing the chance to avenge Kramer’s shower attack on me, but if I had my way, neither one of us would see the Inquisitor until we were slamming the door of the trap shut on him.

  “I love you,” I said, because it was a better use of words than endless repetitions for him to be careful. Logic might know that Bones was more than capable of handling himself if Kramer came after him, but the thought of his being attacked while I was away still made me sick to my stomach.

  “I love you, too, Kitten.”

  His voice changed, becoming the warm, knowing one that made me melt a little each time I heard it. Then his lips brushed across my forehead, so feathery soft and light it was more a tease than a kiss.

  “Don’t let that tosser Madigan get a rise out of you, he’ll only enjoy it,” he murmured against my skin. “Your will is stronger than his. Show him that.”

  I trailed my fingers from his face down to his shoulders, pulling him closer until the hard planes of his body pressed along mine. Madigan had hung up on me ten minutes ago. That meant the chopper wouldn’t arrive for another twenty minutes.

  I let my hands glide from his shoulders down to the tight valley of his stomach, then dipped one inside the front of his pants.

  “Why don’t you help put me in a calmer mood?” I whispered.

  I was on the floor, Bones’s mouth crushing mine, before the last word left my lips.

  Thirteen

  Madigan glared at me as I walked into what used to be my uncle’s office. I glared right back, willpower alone keeping my gaze from glowing green and fangs from jutting out of my teeth. Not only had Madigan ignored my previous remarks about the uselessness of an ID check on the roof; he’d also installed a full-body scanner that broadcast such explicit imagery of my body onto a screen, TSA officials everywhere would weep with envy. I’d then had every bit of metal on me confiscated except my wedding ring, and had to argue for ten minutes before the new guards would let me bring in my packet of sage. As it was, they’d taken my box of matches, because of course those were potentially deadly weapons.

  Idiots. I was a vampire, as they well knew. I could kill someone ten times quicker with my teeth or my hands. It was a good thing Bones hadn’t come with me, or he might’ve slaughtered one of the guards just to prove a point about the whole stupid, insulting process. Finding out that Madigan had also commandeered Don’s office, plus hearing his repeated mental renditions of the same car insurance jingle, had been the cherry on the sundae wreckage of my formerly good mood.

  From my uncle’s deep frown as he floated behind Madigan, he was in a foul mood, too.

  “So sorry there wasn’t a body cavity search,” I said in lieu of a hello. “My ego might never recover.”

  Madigan’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “Lax security might have been acceptable during my predecessor’s term, but it’s not under mine.”

  “You mean Tate’s predecessor’s term,” I corrected at once, not responding to the slap against Don because I was trying to cool my temper instead of inflame it. My uncle already knew the many reasons why Madigan’s new security measures were pointless when it came to vampires. All Madigan was doing with his fancy new scanner was wasting taxpayer money in an attempt to look competent to unknowing government superiors.

  My uncle tugged his eyebrow, muttering, “You’re not going to believe this,” even as Madigan smiled.

  “Effective immediately, the head of Homeland Security upgraded my position from operations consultant to acting supervisor of this operation.”

  Shock froze me in the process of taking a seat. “Bullshit,” I breathed. “They can’t yank Tate’s job out from under him without even giving him a chance to succeed at it!”

  Oh yes they can, Madigan thought, interrupting his repeated mental mantra of the damned slogan that had blocked out the rest of his thoughts. He didn’t answer out loud, though, continuing to stare at me with that triumphant little smile. Fifteen minutes can save you fifteen percent. Fifteen minutes . . .

  It was Don who said, in a very heavy voice, “They did exactly that, Cat.”

  I felt like I’d been sucker punched by a sledgehammer. It wasn’t shocking that the few, top-ranking government officials who knew about this department could make such a stupid decision; I’d seen government stupidity in action before. But I was stunned that they’d do it in such a short amount of time. That’s completely unfair! rang through my mind, and though it might sound childish, it was still true.

  “Congratulations,” was what I bit out, acid penetrating each syllable. “Does Tate still work here, or did you fire him in your first official act as boss?”

  Some part of me hoped that Madigan had fired every nonhuman on the team. That would make Cooper and the other veteran human team members quit in disgust. Then all of us could all sit back and count down the days until the Powers That Be learned the folly of trying to fight the undead with only regular soldiers. When the human casualties piled up, the same witless politicians that promoted him would throw Madigan out on his well-dressed ass, begging Tate, Juan, Dave, and the others to come back. Hell, they’d beg my mother to come back, and she hadn’t even been out on her first mission yet, but she was still t
ougher than ninety-nine percent of their best human soldiers.

  “Tate’s been demoted to junior officer,” Don replied, beating out Madigan’s intentionally vague response of, “Of course he’s still employed here.”

  Junior officer. My nails dug into my palms until the scent of blood made me stop. Despite my promise to Bones not to let Madigan rile me, it was all I could do not to start screaming at him. After all the times Tate had risked his life for this operation, not to mention all the lives he’d saved during his tenure, he did not deserve a demotion just because Madigan was a power-hungry schmuck who had issues with the undead.

  “Cat,” Don began.

  “Not now,” I said, my attention so focused on the injustice of it all that I answered him out loud. Oops! “Uh, not later, but now you want to tell me why I’m here?” I stammered to cover my slip.

  Fortunately, Madigan didn’t seem to pick up on it. He clicked a small device, and a flat screen dropped down from a slot in the ceiling. Really love your little gadgets, don’t you? I thought sardonically.

  The screen flashed a serial number and the word “confidential” before it focused in on an image of Chris, of all people, broadcasting in what looked like night vision. His eyes shone unnaturally bright.

  “Who are you talking to?” he was asking, looking around a basement that I recognized with a sinking feeling. My own voice flowed out in reply.

  “One of Waverly’s former residents. Can you do me a favor, Herbert? Fly through the bearded man’s left arm . . .”

  I said nothing as the entire exchange played out, complete with several close-ups of my face as I directed an unseen ghost to dive bomb Chris’s body. Son of a bitch! A member of N.I.P.D. must have rigged a camera down there during their setup period, but how had Madigan gotten ahold of the footage? It was barely more than a week old!

  Madigan paused the video once we’d walked away from the camera’s view. “Do you know where this was? On the Northeastern Investigative Paranormal Division’s Web site, where anyone with a computer could see a former top secret operative blabbering on about how the supernatural really exists!”