Reckoning
Page 4
Her dark head slipped below the crowd as she ducked and vanished from his sight. Bones increased his pace, almost throwing people to the side. Soon the police would notice the disturbance, but he didn’t care. His attention was focused on one goal. Don’t let Delphine escape.
He glimpsed her again, darting quickly through people with her head lowered. Delphine glanced over her shoulder, and their eyes met once more. She smiled, lovely and evil. Then she punched the person closest to her and ran.
Bones gave up pretending to be human. He chased after Delphine with all his supernatural speed. In the next moment, he was upon the young man Delphine had struck. The man was on his knees, blood pouring out between hands clutched to his stomach. She’d punched him hard enough to tear right through the bloke’s guts. It was a mortal injury—unless Bones stopped to save him.
He made his decision in an instant and kept going. It was worth the sacrifice of one innocent victim to save countless others. Delphine had underestimated her hunter by thinking this would secure her escape.
Another burst of speed brought him closer. Delphine was fast, but he was quicker. Savage anticipation coursed through him. His hand clenched on his knife. Almost there…
Just as Bones was nearly upon her, an arrow ripped through his chest, bringing an explosion of pain. He roared as he tore it out, plowing through people well below eye level to make his heart a far harder target. Ralmiel. He’d kill the sod for his wretched timing.
Another arrow landed in his back, missing his heart again, but showing Ralmiel hadn’t given up. The silver burned, yet Bones didn’t slow to pull it out. He couldn’t risk losing Delphine, pain be damned.
Every person he jostled by in the crowd felt like he was giving the arrow a good twist, however. Bones gritted his teeth and continued on, cursing the people in his way, the blaring music, the bloody beads, the myriad smells that made Delphine impossible to track by scent, and the Cajun hitter determined to mount him on his trophy wall.
Bones caught another arrow to the neck, skewering him clean through and spinning him around in rage. Blast it all, Ralmiel would get lucky with one of his shots soon, and Bones couldn’t kill Delphine if he was dead himself.
He took his knife and hacked the front of the arrow off, then ripped it out of his throat. Fiery pain throbbed for a moment until the wound healed. Bones kept moving, zigzagging, until he reached the side of a building and then shot straight up. Once on the roof, he tore his mask off; his gaze was sizzling emerald as he sought out his target.
Ralmiel was on the roof across the street, over the MAISON BOURBON sign. The Cajun didn’t smile or crack any jokes this time. He fitted another arrow in his crossbow and fired.
Bones whirled to the left, leaving the arrow to sail past him, then whirled again when another rapidly fired. And another.
Sod this, Bones thought. He folded one arm across his chest and then vaulted at Ralmiel, his other hand holding the curving knife. Ralmiel fired off two more arrows, but they landed in Bones’s arm, not his heart. Then Ralmiel jumped back, but too slow. One hard slash cleaved the crossbow in two. Another swipe split open Ralmiel’s chest. The blade was steel, not silver, since Bones had intended it for decapitating a ghoul instead of killing a vampire.
Still, the wound was deep. Ralmiel floundered, trying unsuccessfully to wrest away. Bones held on to him and raised the knife again. This one takes off your head, Bones thought grimly, swinging the blade. And that kills everything, doesn’t it?
But the knife swept through thin air instead. Bones snarled in frustration, his knees hitting the roof as the vampire under him disappeared. He spun around, just in case the blighter was about to reappear behind him with silver at the ready, but there was nothing.
Cold fury filled Bones. He hacked off the end of the arrow still piercing his back, then yanked that through as well, ignoring the starburst of pain it caused. Either Ralmiel would soon run out of magic pouches or Georgette had decided not to switch the ingredients in them. He’d deal with that later, though. First he had to try to find Delphine again, and God help Ralmiel if he interfered one more time.
Bones darted along the Quarter’s roofs for more than an hour, using the higher vantage point to better see the faces of the people below. No sign of Delphine. He cursed himself for not simply flying over the heads of the crowd to get to her before, but hiding the secret of his species was so ingrained in him that his first instinct had been to follow her on foot. It would have been sufficient, too, if not for Ralmiel. Bloody bastard.
But now Bones knew what she looked like. Becca’s part in this could finally be over. Bones would try scouring the Quarter again tomorrow, and hope like blazes Delphine hadn’t been scared out of the city.
Bones left the Quarter and went to his hotel at the outskirts of city, doubling back several times to make sure he wasn’t being followed. With all his backtracking, the sun was almost ready to rise by the time he made it inside his room. He stripped off his clothes and sat on the bed, eyeing his laptop. Better check now for any important messages. Sleep could wait a bit longer.
Bones logged onto his e-mail, quickly reading through his messages. “Bloody hell,” Bones swore when he got to the last one. What was the ghoul up to?
Chapter 8
That afternoon, Bones opened the side door to his townhouse to let Jelani in. He went through the foyer, listening to the clicks from Jelani’s plastic and metal legs as he followed. Bones stopped in the townhouse’s inner courtyard. It was beautiful, with a large fountain in the middle surrounded by flowers planted specifically to bloom even in winter.
“Very nice,” Jelani complimented, looking around.
Bones was silent. Jelani waited for a few minutes, but then impatience got the better of him.
“You said you had some news?” the ghoul prompted.
Bones gave him a thin smile. “I do indeed. About you.”
Then Bones crossed the distance and grabbed Jelani, holding the bigger man several feet off the ground.
“This is your only chance to tell me the truth. Lie to me and I’ll kill you right here. Ever since I arrived, I’ve had Ralmiel after me, with no fear of Marie’s reprisal for it. Strange, that. Then your story didn’t check out. Did you think I’d just take your word and not do my own investigation? There’s no record of the LaLauries ever being at the St. Francisville house, so they couldn’t have murdered your wife there. What kind of game are you playing?”
Jelani didn’t bother to struggle. His false arms and legs left him as helpless against Bones as if he’d been human.
“I was the LaLauries’ slave,” he spat. “Both me and my wife were purchased from them shortly after they moved to the Quarter. The stories of what they did to their slaves aren’t even half the truth. My wife and I tried to run away. They caught us and tortured me. Cut off my arms and legs and ate them in front of me, but that wasn’t the worst of it.”
Jelani looked away. The scent of pure torment wafted off him, but Bones didn’t loosen his grip.
“Go on.”
“Delphine changed me into a ghoul,” Jelani continued, his voice trembling with remembrance. “Then she kept me chained inside that hellish attic for days, until I was mad from hunger. She finally brought my wife up, chaining her, too, so she couldn’t run away. That night, I killed my wife. I killed my wife and ate her.”
Bones let him down. Jelani staggered for a moment on his prosthetic legs until he found his balance. When he did, he shoved Bones back.
“I’m sorry, mate,” Bones said quietly. “But you know it wasn’t your fault. It’s their crime, not yours.”
Jelani gave a bitter snort. “Oh, I know they’re guilty for her death. But every time I go to sleep, I can still hear her screaming in my dreams. Over a hundred years later, I can still hear it.” Jelani met Bones’s gaze squarely. “I want it to end. I want all of it to end.”
Bones let out a slow sigh. “Marie has no idea the LaLauries are even here, does she? That’s why Ralm
iel is so brazenly after me. He has no fear of repercussions from her.”
“When Delphine and Louis were hunting in the city decades ago, Majestic told me not to act until she was back. She didn’t want anyone knowing for fear that news of it would weaken her power. But the LaLauries got away before Majestic returned. This time, I couldn’t risk letting them get away again. So I lied to you when I brought you here.”
Bones ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Marie will kill you for this. But you must already know that.”
The big man’s shoulders slumped. “You can’t know what it’s like, living among our kind crippled this way. Majestic has made it bearable, but once the LaLauries are dead, I want to die, too. My only hope is that Majestic is kind enough to make death my punishment for my betrayal, instead of casting me off without her protection.”
Bones’s gaze traveled once more over the stumps that made up Jelani’s arms and legs. Jelani couldn’t wield a knife in defense of his life or in defense of Marie’s, which was the expectation of any member in an undead line. He couldn’t even walk, if someone were to sweep those prosthetics out from under him—and that would be the first thing any hostile vampire or ghoul would do.
Looking at it coldly, all Jelani had to offer Majestic in return for her protection was his loyalty, and he’d just burned that by going behind her back over the LaLauries. Even if Marie sympathized with why he did it, she’d still have no choice except to kill him for it. Not if she didn’t want to be regarded as a weak leader.
And if Bones was being practical, now that he knew none of this had been sanctioned by Marie, he’d leave the city to-night. Then once Jelani’s deeds were revealed, Bones could truthfully claim ignorance of the man’s betrayal.
But if he didn’t, any further actions he took would be held up to judgment by the queen of the city. Bones was a trespasser, hunting on Marie’s grounds without her permission. He knew she wouldn’t look kindly on that. Furthermore, while he was here, he was providing a damn fine target of himself to Ralmiel, since he couldn’t very well hide and hunt at the same time in the same small area.
Though neither could the LaLauries. Not for much longer, as it were.
There was only one choice, wasn’t there?
Bones stared at Jelani, not letting any emotion show on his face. “I don’t believe I’ll see you again, mate, but I’ll promise you this—you’ll have your vengeance.”
Jelani gave him a tight smile. “It won’t just be my vengeance. It will be shared by my wife, and everyone else who died at their hands.”
Bones walked away, not replying to that. Death he could give, yes. But at the moment, he wished he could give hope, too, even though there was none for Jelani, and perhaps none for himself, either.
Chapter 9
Bones walked up the street to Becca’s salon. He’d tried her cell earlier, but she didn’t answer. She was probably annoyed with him for what she’d think was his disappearing last night. Or she was busy with customers and hadn’t been able to get to her phone. Either way, he thought a gesture was in order, so he’d picked up a dozen roses on his way.
And just in case Ralmiel was on a roof sighting down a crossbow on him, Bones was wearing a Kevlar vest underneath his shirt and coat. Let Ralmiel try to shoot an arrow through that. The next time that scurvy bugger pulled a Houdini and popped up, Bones intended to separate his head from his shoulders. If he could kill Delphine and Louis at the same time, he’d consider it a capital evening.
Bones was a few shops down from the salon when he smelled it. He inhaled just to make sure, then quickened his pace, running the short distance to the salon and flinging open the door.
The girl behind the counter looked up in surprise. Bones ignored her, stalking through the salon and yanking open every closed door, much to the consternation of a customer getting a massage in the back room.
“Becca’s not here,” the girl called out.
Bones stalked over, letting the roses drop to the floor as he grabbed her.
“When did she leave? Was she alone?”
“Hey, not so rough,” she protested.
Bones let her go and asked very precisely, “Where is Becca?”
“She called in sick. Or she had her new roommate come in earlier to say that Becca wasn’t working today, but when you showed up, to tell you to come over for dinner. So I guess Becca can’t be that sick.”
Even though he already knew, he had to confirm it. “This girl, what did she look like?”
Shrug. “Black curly hair, thin, about my age. Had an accent, I think it was French…”
Bones walked to the door. The girl continued to call after him.
“Tell Becca she’s in trouble with our manager. It’s Mardi Gras, we can’t afford for her to just decide to take a day off.”
Delphine hadn’t just run off last night. No, she’d doubled back and found Becca first.
Once outside, Bones inhaled again, deeply. Even with the scent of countless people trampling through the air, he could still smell Delphine. It was if she’d deliberately rubbed against the side of the shop to make sure he smelled her. Bones walked across the street to stare up at the LaLauries’ old mansion. Then he went to the gate and took in another long breath.
She’d been here, too. Again, the trail was so strong, it had to be deliberate. Delphine’s scent hadn’t been on it before, the many other times Bones had walked past this house. And now he could hear a heartbeat inside the normally empty mansion.
Becca. Come over for dinner, Delphine had said, and she was making sure Bones knew where dinner would be held.
A bitter smile twisted his mouth. No, Delphine. I’m not making it that easy for you. Ghouls are stronger during the day, while vampires are weaker. I’ll wait till after nightfall to accept your invitation. It’s not as if you have any intention of letting Becca go free once I arrive anyway, you murdering bitch.
Bones turned on heel and walked away, wondering if Delphine or Louis was watching him.
It was past nine when Bones came back. His coat was lined with several knives, both steel and silver. No telling whether Delphine and Louis might have vampiric help with them, so best to have all bases covered. He was still wearing the Kevlar vest underneath his shirt, even though it would slightly hinder his movements. Still, its benefit outweighed its liability.
Bones stared at the LaLauries’ old house. Even with all the noise around him from partiers enjoying the last few days of Mardi Gras, if he concentrated, Bones could still faintly make out the heartbeat inside the house. True, that heartbeat might not be Becca’s, but she might yet be alive.
Now for the last addition to his ensemble.
Bones turned and walked into the reveling crowd, pulling out the first few people his hands laid on, dragging them from the thick of the merrymakers and hitting them with his gaze. The alcohol they’d consumed helped with that, since none of them could claim exceptional mental willpower at the moment. Bones didn’t care if anyone looking on bothered to wonder why his eyes were glowing green. Let them think it was a special effect from the Phantom of the Opera mask he had on, if they bothered to ponder it at all.
After giving the three bespelled people their instructions, Bones went back into the crowd and pulled out another three, repeating the process. And then another three, then another, until he had more than a dozen obedient bystanders. Finally, Bones walked back down the street to stand on the corner in front of the house.
The shadows around it were darker now, throbbing with the memory of suppressed rage from centuries ago. It was almost as if those shadows knew their former tormenters had returned. Bones took off his mask, then rolled his head around on his shoulders.
“Now,” he told the waiting men and women at his back, and vaulted up into the air.
Below him, they began walking to the front of the house and hurling things at it. Beer bottles, their shoes, their masks; whatever they could get into their hands, they flung it. Windows broke on the first and
second floors, the sound drowned out by the yells and hollers from the people. They didn’t go within a dozen feet of the house, though. No, they stayed just far enough away so that anyone who wanted to stop them would have to come out and get them.
Drawing out Delphine or Louis wasn’t the point. The racket they made while they smashed up the house was. Hidden behind the chimney on a nearby roof, Bones waited for his chance. When two windows smashed simultaneously, Bones sprang forward, streamlining his body and diving through the second floor windows.
Bones rolled as soon as he hit the floor, staying low and searching the room, careful not to let any green shine from his eyes. He wasn’t going to make it easier for them to find him, if they’d determined the noise they’d just heard was him instead of more objects being hurled through the windows.
The room was empty of all but furniture. Bones inhaled, trying to track Becca by scent, and then swore. The room stank of embalming fluid, a noxious scent that masked damn near everything else. Clever bastards, he thought. That was all right; he could still pick up the heartbeat as a beacon, though now that he was inside, it sounded like there were two heartbeats. Both in opposite directions from each other.
He chose the one that sounded stronger. Since Becca was their most recent victim, it made sense that the other, fainter heartbeat belonged to someone the LaLauries had acquired before her. While Bones felt pity for that unknown person, Becca was his primary concern.
He crept forward in a low crouch. The lights were off, not that ghouls needed illumination to see. There was no sound inside except for those heartbeats, his own stealthy movements, and the occasional smash from whatever item was still being flung at the windows.
Yet Bones could feel the energy in the house. Delphine and Louis were here. Waiting. Whatever trap they’d set had been sprung as soon as Bones entered the house. Now all he could do was see it through to the end. Everyone’s got to die one day, Bones mused with grim determination. Come on, you sods. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to make today my day.