Bloody Bones ab-5

by Laurell Hamilton

  I glanced at Jean-Claude; he just looked at me. I was on my own. Wasn't I always. "Xavier will have to sleep. He won't be able to harm Jeff once the sun rises."

  Larry shook his head. "Will we get him back in time?"

  I wanted to say "Sure," but I wouldn't lie. "I don't know. I hope so."

  His soft, Howdy-Doody face was set in very stubborn lines. I looked at him and understood why so many people underestimate me. He looked so harmless. Hell, he was sort of harmless, but he was armed now, and learning how to be dangerous. And in his face for the first time I saw a grim purpose building. I'd planned on leaving him behind when I went to talk to the Master of Branson. Looking at him now, I wasn't sure he was going to let me do that. He'd had his first vampire hunt tonight. I'd managed to keep him out of the rough stuff until now. But it wasn't going to last. I'd been hoping he'd give up the idea of hunting vampires. Staring into his glittering eyes, I realized I was the one who was fooling myself. In his own way Larry was as stubborn as I was. Frightening thought, that. But for tonight he was safe.

  "You couldn't just comfort me? Tell me we'll find him?" Larry asked.

  I smiled. "I try not to lie to you, if I can avoid it."

  "For once," Larry said, "I'd have liked to have heard the lie."

  "Sorry," I said.

  He took in a deep breath and let it out slow. His anger was gone just like that. Larry didn't know what it was to hold onto his rage. He didn't brood over things. One of the main differences between us. I never forgave anyone for anything. A character flaw to be sure, but hell, everyone's got to have at least one.

  There was a knock on the door. Larry went for the door.

  Jean-Claude was suddenly standing by me. I hadn't seen him move. Hadn't heard his leather boots slither over the carpet. Nothing. Magic. My heart was suddenly thudding in my throat.

  "Stomp your feet or something when you do that."

  "Do what, ma petite?"

  I glared up at him. "That wasn't a mind trick, was it?"

  "No," he said. That one word slithered across my skin like a low creeping breeze.

  "Damn you," I said softly and with feeling.

  He smiled. "We've been over that, ma petite; you are too late."

  Larry had closed the door. "There's a guy out in the hall says he's with Jean-Claude."

  "A guy or a vampire?" I asked.

  Larry frowned. "Not a vampire, but if you mean human I wouldn't go that far."

  "You expecting company?" I asked.

  "Yes, I am."

  "Who?"

  He stalked to the door and put a hand on the doorknob. "Someone I believe you've already met." He opened the door with a flourish, stepping to one side to let me have a clear view.

  Jason stood in the open door, smiling, relaxed. He was my height exactly, not something you find in a man often. Straight blond hair barely touched the top of his collar; his eyes were the innocent blue of spring skies. The last time I'd seen him he'd been trying to eat me. Werewolves will do that sometimes.

  He was dressed in an oversized black sweater that hit him almost at mid-thigh. He'd had to roll the sleeves over his wrists. His pants were leather, laced up the side from waist to mid-calf, where the laces vanished into boots. The lacings were loose enough that there was a pale line of flesh all the way down.

  "Hello, Anita."

  "Hi, Jason. What are you doing here?"

  He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I'm Jean-Claude's new pet."

  He said the last word like it was alright. Richard wouldn't have said it that way.

  "You didn't tell me you brought company," I said.

  "We are going to be calling on the Master of the City. We must make a good show of it."

  "So a werewolf, and what... me?"

  He sighed. "Yes, ma petite, whether you bear my marks or not, most consider you my human servant." He raised a hand. "Please, Anita, I know you are not my human servant in the technical sense. But you have helped me defend my territory. You have killed to protect me. That is the best definition of what a human servant does."

  "So, what? I have to pretend to be your human servant on this visit?"

  "Something like that," he said.

  "Forget it."

  "Anita, I need a show of strength here. Branson was part of Nikolaos's territory. I gave it up because the population density could support another group. But it was still my land, and now it's not. Some view that as weakness rather than practicality."

  "So without any marks at all you've finally got me to play servant for you. You manipulative son of a bitch."

  "You asked me down here, ma petite." A thread of warmth cut through his words. He stalked towards me. "I am doing you a favor, do not forget that."

  "I don't think you'll let me forget," I said.

  He made a harsh sound, as if he had no words for his anger. "Why do I put up with you? You insult me at every turn. There are many who would give their souls for what I offer you."

  He stood in front of me, eyes like dark sapphires, skin white as marble. His skin glowed like there was a light inside him. He looked like some kind of live sculpture made of light, jewels, and stone.

  He was impressive and scary, but I'd seen it before. "Cut the vampire powers shit, Jean-Claude. It's almost dawn; don't you have a coffin to crawl into somewhere?"

  He laughed, but it wasn't pleasant, it was bitter like the touch of steel wool. Something to irritate rather than entice. "Our luggage has not arrived, has it, my wolf?"

  "No, master," Jason said.

  "Your coffin hasn't arrived?" I asked.

  "Either I have chosen a very lax skycab, or..." He let the words trail off, face bland and pleasant.

  "Or what?" Larry asked.

  "Ma petite."

  "You think the local master took your coffin," I said.

  "A punishment for entering her territory without observing all the social niceties." He looked at me when he said it.

  "I suppose that's my fault," I said.

  He gave that infuriating shrug. "I could have said no, ma petite."

  "Stop being so civilized about it."

  "Would you be happier if I was angry?" His voice was very mild when he said it.

  "Maybe," I said. It would have made me feel less guilty, but I didn't say that out loud.

  "Go to the airport and find our luggage if you can, Jason. Bring it back to Anita's room."

  "Wait a minute. You are not moving into my room."

  "It is nearly dawn, ma petite. I have no choice. Tomorrow we will find other accommodations."

  "You planned this."

  He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Even my deviousness knows some bounds, ma petite. I would not willingly be without my coffin this close to dawn."

  "What are you going to do without your coffin?" Larry asked. He looked anxious.

  Jean-Claude smiled. "Do not fear, Lawrence, all I need is darkness, or rather lack of sunlight. The coffin itself is not absolutely necessary, simply more secure."

  "I've never known a vampire that didn't sleep in a coffin," I said.

  "If I am underground in a secure place, I forego my coffin. Though truthfully, once daylight finds me I am insensible and could sleep on a bed of nails and not know it."

  I wasn't sure I believed him. He worked harder than most at passing for human. "You will see the truth of my words soon enough, ma petite."

  "That's what I'm afraid of," I said.

  "You can sleep on the couch if you prefer, but I am telling you truly that once full daylight arrives I will be harmless, helpless if you like. I would be unable to molest you even if I wanted to."

  "And what other fairy tales am I supposed to believe? I've seen you move around after dawn, hidden from light, but you worked just fine."

  "After eight hours or so of sleep, if it is still daylight I can move around, true, but I doubt you will stay abed for eight hours. You have clients or something, a murder investigation, some business that will take you out and about."


  "If I leave you alone, who'll see that some maid doesn't come in, pull the curtains back and French fry you?"

  The smile widened. "Concern over my well-being. I am touched."

  I looked at him. He looked pleasant, amused, but it was a mask. His expression when he didn't want you to know what he was thinking, but didn't want you to know that he didn't want you to know. "What are you up to?"

  "For once, ma petite, nothing."

  "Yeah, right."

  "If I find the coffin, I'll need to rent a truck," Jason said.

  "You can use our Jeep," Larry said.

  I glared at him. "No, he can't."

  "Think of it as expediency, ma petite. If Jason must rent a truck, then I may have to spend another day in your bed. I know you do not want that." There was amusement in his voice, and an undercurrent of something else. It might have been bitterness.

  "I'll drive," Larry said.

  "No, you won't," I said.

  "It's almost dawn, Anita. I'll be alright."

  I shook my head. "No."

  "You can't treat me like a kid brother forever. I can drive the Jeep."

  "I promise not to eat him," Jason said.

  Larry held out his hand for the keys. "You have to trust me sometime."

  I just looked at him.

  "I promise to shoot anything, human or monster, that threatens me while I'm gone." He made the Boy Scout sign, three fingers to heaven. "You can bail me out of jail and explain that I was just following orders."

  I sighed. "Alright, dammit." I gave him the keys.

  He grinned at me. "Thanks."

  I shook my head. "Just hurry back, okay?"

  "Anything you say."

  "Just get out of here, and be careful."

  Larry left with Jason trailing behind. I stared at the door after it closed, wondering if I should have gone with them. Knowing that Larry would have gotten mad, but mad was better than dead. Hell, it was a simple errand; go to the airport and pick up a coffin. What could go wrong with less than an hour of darkness left? Shit.

  "You cannot protect him, Anita."

  "I can try."

  Jean-Claude gave that infuriating shrug that meant anything you wanted it to mean, and nothing at all. "Shall we retire to your room, ma petite?"

  I opened my mouth to tell him he could bunk with Larry, but didn't say it. I didn't really believe he'd munch on Larry, but I was sure he wouldn't munch on me. "Sure," I said.

  He looked a little surprised, as if he'd expected an argument. But I was all out of argument tonight. He could have the bed. I'd take the couch. What could be more innocent? Biker Nuns from Hell, but besides that.

  19

  I could feel dawn pressing against the windows like a cool hand when we got back to my room. It was very near. Jean-Claude smiled at me. "The first time I manage to share a hotel room with you, and there is no time." He gave an elaborate sigh. "Things never work as I plan with you, ma petite."

  "Maybe that's a hint," I said.

  "Perhaps." He glanced at the closed drapes. "I must go, ma petite. Until darkness." He shut the bedroom door a little hurriedly. I could feel the coming light pressing around the building. I'd noticed over the years of hunting vamps that I'd become aware of dawn, and sunset. There had been times when I'd struggled from disaster to disaster just to stay alive until that soft growing pressure of light could sweep the sky and save my cookies. For the first time I wondered what it would be like to see it as a danger instead of a blessing.

  After he'd closed the door I realized my suitcase was in the bedroom. Damn. I hesitated, and finally knocked. No answer. I opened the door just a crack, then farther. He wasn't in there. Water ran in the bathroom. A line of light showed under the door. What did vampires do in bathrooms? Better not to know.

  I grabbed my suitcase from the floor and carried it out before the bathroom door could open. I did not want to see him again. I did not want to see what happened to him when the sun rose.

  When the sun had risen enough to pulse against the closed drapes like pale lemon liquid, I changed into a t-shirt and jeans. I had a robe with me, but if I was going to greet both Larry and Jason I wanted to be wearing some pants.

  I called down for extra blankets and a pillow. No one bitched that it was a quarter past dawn, and a strange time to need bedclothes. They just brought the stuff. True class. The maid didn't even glance at the closed bedroom door.

  I spread the blanket on the couch and stared at it. It was a pretty couch but didn't look terribly comfortable. Oh, well, virtue had its punishments. Of course, maybe it wasn't virtue that kept me out of the bedroom. If it had been Richard curled up in the next room, then only moral fortitude would have kept me out. With Jean-Claude... I had never seen him after dawn when he was dead to the world. I wasn't sure I wanted to see. I knew I didn't want to cuddle up next to him while the warmth left his body.

  There was a knock on the door. I hesitated. It was probably Larry, but then again... I went to the door with the Browning naked in my hand. Beau had had a shotgun last night. Paranoia, or caution; hard to tell the difference sometimes.

  I stood to one side of the door and said, "Yes."

  "Anita, it's us."

  I hit the safety and put the barrel of the Browning down the front of my jeans. It was too big a gun to wear in an inner pants holster, but for temporary holding, that worked.

  I opened the door.

  Larry leaned against the doorjamb, looking rumpled and tired. He had a McDonald's sack in one hand, and four cups shoved into one of those Styrofoam holders. Two of the cups held coffee, the other two sodas.

  Jason had a large leather suitcase under each arm, a battered, much smaller suitcase in his right hand, and a second McDonald's bag in his left. He didn't look the least bit tired. A morning person, even after no sleep at all. It was disgusting. His eyes flicked to the gun shoved in my waistband. He noticed, but he didn't comment. Point for him.

  Larry never even blinked at the gun.

  "Food?" I asked.

  "I didn't eat much last night. Besides, Jason was hungry, too," Larry said. He came inside, putting the drinks and food on the wet bar. None of us drank; good to use the bar for something.

  Jason walked through the door sideways with the suitcases and food, but there was no effort to it. He wasn't straining one little bit to carry it all.

  "Showoff," I said.

  He sat the luggage on the floor. "This isn't even close to showing off," he said.

  I locked the door behind them. "I suppose you can bring the coffin up single-handedly."

  "No, but not because it's heavy. It's just too long. The balance isn't right."

  Great. Super werewolf. Though for all I knew, all lycanthropes could lift that much weight. Maybe Richard could lift coffins with one arm. It was not a comforting thought.

  Jason started laying food out on the bar. Larry had already climbed onto one of the bar stools. He was pouring sugar into one of the coffees.

  "Did you just leave the coffin in the lobby?" I asked. I had to lay the Browning on the bar to sit down. I was just too short-waisted to have it down my pants.

  Larry sat the unopened coffee in front of me. "It's missing."

  I stared at him. "You found the suitcases but not the coffin?"

  "Yep," Jason said, as he finished dividing the food into three piles. He'd pushed some of it in front of both of us, but the lion's share was in front of him.

  "How can you eat this early in the morning?"

  "I'm always hungry," he said. He looked at me sort of expectantly.

  I let it slide. It was too easy.

  "Come on, I fed you that one," he said.

  "You don't seem particularly worried," I said.

  He shrugged, and slid onto a bar stool. "What do you want me to say? I've seen some weird shit since I became a werewolf. If I got hysterical every time something went wrong, every time someone I knew died, I'd be in the loony bin by now."

  "I thought fights for d
ominance in the pack, except for pack leader, weren't to the death," I said.

  "People forget," he said.

  "I'll have to talk to Richard when I get back in town. He hasn't been mentioning any of this."

  "Nothing to mention," Jason said. "Just business as usual."

  Great. "Did anybody see who took the coffin?"

  Larry answered, his voice sluggish even with the caffeine and sugar. There's only so much you can do on no sleep at all. "No one saw anybody take it. In fact, the only guy left from the night shift said, 'I just turned away for a second, and it wasn't there. Just the luggage standing there by itself.' "

  "Shit," I said.

  "Why take the coffin?" he asked. He drank most of his coffee. His Egg McMuffin sat untouched in front of him. They'd put hotcakes in front of me with a little tub of syrup beside it.

  "Your breakfast is getting cold," Jason said.

  He was enjoying himself too much. I frowned at him, but I opened my coffee. I didn't want the food. "I think the master is flexing a little muscle. What do you think, Jason?" I kept my voice casual.

  He smiled at me around a mouthful of food, swallowed, and said, "I think whatever Jean-Claude wants me to think."

  Maybe my voice had been too casual. I should really give up on subtlety; I just wasn't good enough at it. "Did he tell you not to talk to me?"

  "No, just to be careful what I said."

  "He says jump, and you say how high; is that it?"

  "That's it." He ate a bite of scrambled egg, his face peaceful.

  "Doesn't that bother you?"

  "I don't make the rules, Anita. I'm not an alpha anything."

  "And it doesn't bother you?" I asked.

  He shrugged. "Sometimes, but there's nothing I can do about it. Why fight it?"

  "I don't understand that at all," Larry said.

  "Me either."

  "You don't have to understand it," he said. He couldn't have been more than twenty, but the look in his eyes wasn't young. It was the look of someone who'd seen a lot, done a lot, and not all of it nice. It was the look I was dreading to see on Larry's face someday. They were nearly the same age; what had people been doing to Jason to give him such jaded eyes?