"It is a man, then?"
I just looked at him, glad that I could give full eye contact. It had always been so hard to do the tough stare back when I couldn't look a vamp in the eyes.
He straightened his shoulders as if only now aware that he was slumping. "You won't even give me that, will you? Please tell Jean-Claude what I have told you. I should have come to you immediately. I thought morals kept me from running to the very power structure I despise, but it wasn't morals, it was sin; the sin of pride. I hope that my pride has not cost more of my followers their lives." He went for the door.
I called after him. "Malcolm."
He turned.
"How big an emergency is this?"
"Big."
"Will a couple of hours make a difference?"
He thought about it. "Perhaps; why do you ask?"
"I won't be seeing Jean-Claude tonight. I just wanted to know if I should call him, give him a heads-up."
"Yes, by all means, give him his heads-up." He frowned at me. "Why would you not see your master tonight, Anita? Aren't you living with him?"
"Actually, no. I stay over at his place about half the week, but I've got my own place still."
"Will you be killing more of my kindred tonight?"
I shook my head.
"Then you will raise my other colder brethren. Whose blissful death will you disturb tonight, Anita? Whose zombie will you raise so some human can get their inheritance, or a wife can be consoled?"
"No zombies tonight," I said. I was too puzzled by his attitude on the zombies to be insulted. I'd never heard a vampire claim any kinship with zombies, or ghouls, or anything but other vamps.
"Then what will keep you from your master's arms?"
"I've got a date, not that it's any of your business."
"But not a date with Jean-Claude, or Asher?"
I shook my head.
"Your wolf king then, Richard?"
I shook my head, again.
"For whom would you abandon those three, Anita? Ah, your leopard king, Micah."
"Wrong again."
"I am amazed that you are answering my questions."
"So am I, actually. I think it's because you keep calling me a whore, and I think I want to rub your face in it."
"What, the fact that you are a whore?" His face showed nothing when he said it.
"I knew you couldn't do it," I said.
"Do what, Ms. Blake?"
"I knew you couldn't play nice long enough to get my help. I knew if I kept at you, you'd get snotty and mean."
He gave a small bow, just from the neck. "I told you, Ms. Blake, my sin is pride."
"And what's my sin, Malcolm?"
"Do you want me to insult you, Ms. Blake?"
"I just want to hear you say it."
"Why?"
"Why not?" I said.
"Very well; your sin is lust, Ms. Blake, as it is the sin of your master and all his vampires."
I shook my head and felt that unpleasant smile curl my lips. The smile that left my eyes cold, and usually meant I was well and truly pissed. "That's not my sin, Malcolm, not the one nearest and dearest to my heart."
"And what would your sin be, Ms. Blake?"
"Wrath, Malcolm, it's wrath."
"Are you saying I've made you angry?"
"I'm always angry, Malcolm; you just gave me a target to focus it on."
"Do you envy anyone, Ms. Blake?"
I thought about it, then shook my head. "Not really, no."
"I will not ask about sloth; you work entirely too hard for that to be an issue. You are not greedy, nor a glutton. Are you prideful?"
"Sometimes," I said.
"Wrath, lust, and pride, then?"
I nodded. "I guess, if we're keeping score."
"Oh, someone is keeping score, Ms. Blake, never doubt that."
"I'm Christian, too, Malcolm."
"Do you worry about getting into heaven, Ms. Blake?"
It was such an odd question that I answered it. "I did, for a while, but my faith still makes my cross glow. My prayers still have the power to chase the evil things away. God hasn't forsaken me; it's just that all the right-wing fundamentalist Christians want to believe he has. I've seen evil, Malcolm, real evil, and you aren't that."
He smiled, and it was gentle, and almost embarrassed. "Have I come to you for absolution, Ms. Blake?"
"I don't think I'm the one to give you absolution."
"I would like a priest to hear my sins before I die, Ms. Blake, but none will come near me. They are holy, and the very trappings of their calling will burst into flames in my presence."
"Not true. The holy items only go off if the true believer panics, or if you try vampire powers on them."
He blinked at me, and I realized his eyes held unshed tears, shimmering in the overhead lights. "Is this true, Ms. Blake?"
"I promise it is." His attitude was beginning to make me afraid for him. I didn't want to be afraid for Malcolm. I had enough people in my life that I cared for enough to worry about; I did not need to add the undead Billy Graham to my list.
"Do you know any priests that might be willing to hear a very long confession?"
"I might, though I don't know if they're allowed to give you absolution, since technically in the eyes of the Church you're already dead. You have ties to a lot of the religious community, Malcolm; surely one of the other leaders would be willing."
"I do not want to ask them, Anita. I do not want them to know my sins. I would rather…" He hesitated, then spoke, but I was pretty sure it wasn't the sentence he started to use. "Quietly, I would rather it be done quietly."
"Why the sudden need for confession and absolution?"
"I am still a believer, Ms. Blake; being a vampire has not changed that. I wish to die absolved of my sins."
"Why are you expecting to die?"
"Tell Jean-Claude what I have told you about the stranger or strangers in my church. Tell him about my desire for a priest to hear my confession. He will understand."
"Malcolm…"
He kept walking, but stopped with his hand on the door. "I take back what I said, Ms. Blake, I am not sorry I came. I am only sorry I did not come days ago." With that he walked out and closed the door softly behind him.
I sat down at my desk and called Jean-Claude. I had no idea what was going on, but something was up, something big. Something bad.
Chapter Two
I CALLED JEAN-CLAUDE'S strip club, Guilty Pleasures, first. He'd gone back to being manager there since he had enough vampires to help run the other businesses. Of course, I didn't get Jean-Claude on the phone first thing. One of the employees answered and informed me that he was on stage. I told them I'd call back, and yes, it was important, so have him call me ASAP.
I hung up and stared at the phone. What was my sweetie doing while I sat in my office a few miles away? I pictured all that long dark hair, the pale perfection of his face, and I was thinking too hard. I could feel him. Feel the woman in his arms as she clung to him. He held her face between his hands to keep the kiss from getting out of hand, to keep her from shredding her own lips against the sharp points of his fangs. I felt her eagerness. Saw inside her mind, that she wanted him to take her here and now on the stage in front of everyone. She didn't care; she just wanted him.
Jean-Claude fed on that desire, that need. He fed on it, as other vampires fed on blood. Half-naked waiters came onto the stage to help pry her, gently, from him. They helped her back to her seat, while she cried, cried for what she could not have. She had paid for a kiss, and she'd gotten that, but Jean-Claude always left you wanting more. I should know.
He spoke like some seductive wind through my mind, "Ma petite, what are you doing here?"
"Thinking too hard," I whispered to the empty office, but he heard me.
He smiled with at least two different types of lipstick smeared around his mouth. "You entered my mind while I fed the ardeur and it did not rise in you; you have been pract
icing."
"Yeah." It felt weird saying it out loud in the empty, dim office, especially because I could hear the hum and murmur of the club around him. The women clamoring to be next, waving their cash for him to choose them.
"I must choose a few more; then we may talk."
"Use the phone," I said. "I'm at the office."
He laughed, and the sound echoed through me, shivered down my skin, made things low in my body tighten. I drew away from him, closed the metaphysical links between us enough so I wouldn't get sucked back into his act. Then I tried to think about something else, anything else. If I'd known enough about baseball, I'd have thought about that, but that wasn't my sport. Jean-Claude didn't strip, but he did feed off the crowd's sexual energy. In another century he'd have been called an incubus, a demon that fed on lust. The thought almost pulled me back to him, but I thought, Think about legal stuff, the law. Something. In this century he just had to put a disclaimer in several prominent places in the club stating, "Warning: Vampire powers will be part of the entertainment. There are no exceptions. By being inside the club, you give permission for the legal use of vampire powers upon yourself and anyone with you."
The new laws that had helped make vamps legal hadn't really caught up to everything they could do. You couldn't do one-on-one mind control, though mass hypnosis was okay, because the call wasn't as deep, or as complete. One-on-one mind control meant the vampire could call people out of their beds, force them to come to the vampire. Mass hypnosis didn't work that way, or that was the theory. A vamp couldn't drink blood without getting the donor's permission first. You couldn't use vamp powers to get sex. Beyond that, the law stated that you had to notify humans in your place of business, and beyond that the law got really vague. The last no-no about no vamp powers for sex had been added only last year. It was treated like a date-rape drug, for legal purposes. Except that a vampire convicted of its use was sentenced to death, not trial or jail. Malcolm was right about the double standard. Vampires were people under the law, but they didn't get all the rights that the rest of the American citizenry got. Of course, most of the rest of the citizens couldn't tear iron bars from their sockets and use mind control to wipe people's memories. They'd been deemed too dangerous for jail after a few bloody, and very messy, escapes.
So my job as vamp executioner had been invented. I don't mean to make it sound like I was the first one with the job. I wasn't. The ones who took the job first were people who had been slaying vampires when they were still illegal, so you could kill them on sight with no legal problems. The government had actually yanked the credentials of some people who'd had a hard time understanding that they had to wait for a warrant of execution before killing anyone. They'd finally had to put one of the old-style vamp hunters in jail. He was still in jail five years later. That had sent the message they wanted.
I'd come in at the tail end of the old school, but mostly I had never killed a vampire that hadn't been covered by legal paperwork.
I glanced at my watch. I still had enough time to run home, change into date clothes, get Nathaniel, and make the movie.
The phone rang, and I jumped. Nervous, who me? "Hello?" I made it a question.
"Ma petite, what is wrong?" That smooth voice eased over the phone like a hand caressing down my skin. It wasn't sexual this time; it was calming. He'd picked up my nervousness. In the middle of feeding the ardeur, he'd missed it.
"Malcolm came to see me."
"About the blood-oathing?"
"Yes, and no," I said.
"Why yes, and no, ma petite?"
I told him what Malcolm had told me. Somewhere in the middle of the talk, he shut down the metaphysical link between us, shut it down so hard and so tight that I couldn't feel anything from him. We could share each other's dreams, but if we shielded hard enough, we could shut each other out. But it took work, and we didn't do it often lately. The silence when I finished was so complete that I had to ask, "Jean-Claude, you still there? I can't even hear you breathing."
"I do not have to breathe, ma petite, as well you know."
"It's just a saying," I said.
He sighed then, and the sound of it shivered over my skin. This time it was sexual. He could use some of his powers on me and still shield like a son of a bitch. I couldn't. When I shielded that tight, I was cut off from a lot of my abilities. "Stop that. Don't try to distract me with your voice. What is it that Malcolm can't speak of without being killed?"
"You will not like my answer, ma petite."
"Just tell me."
"I cannot tell you. I am under the same vow as Malcolm, as all the vampires everywhere are."
"All vampires?"
"Oui."
"What, or who, could force an oath like that from all of you?" I thought about it for a second, then answered my own question. "The vampire council, of course, your ruling body."
"Oui."
"So you aren't going to tell me anything about what's happening?"
"I cannot, ma petite."
"Well, that is just frustrating as hell."
"You have no idea how frustrating, ma petite."
"I am your human servant; doesn't that make me privy to all your secrets?"
"Ah, but this is not my secret."
"What does that mean, not your secret?"
"It means, ma petite, that I cannot discuss this with you unless I am given permission."
"How do you get permission?"
"Pray that I am never able to answer that question, ma petite."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that, if I am able to speak about this openly, then we will have been contacted, and we do not wish to be contacted by this."
"This, a thing, not a person?"
"I will say no more."
I knew I could push against his shields, and sometimes crack them. I thought about it, and it was as if he read my mind, and maybe he had. "Please, ma petite, do not push me on this."
"How bad is it?"
"Bad, but I think it is not our bad. I believe Malcolm will come to vampire justice for his crimes, whether we do it or not."
"So whatever, or whoever, this is, is hunting Malcolm?"
"Perhaps. It is certainly he and his congregation that have the attention."
"Would whoever this is really frame Malcolm's people and set up me and the other vamp executioners to do their dirty work?"
"Perhaps. This legal status is very new. I know some of the older levels of vampire politics are puzzled by it. Perhaps some decided to use it to their own advantage."
"I had a case of that just two months ago, where one vamp framed another for a murder of a woman. I don't want to kill someone who's innocent."
"Is any vampire truly innocent?"
"Don't give me that fundamentalist shit, Jean-Claude."
"We are monsters, ma petite. You know that I believe that."
"Yeah, but you don't want us to go back to the bad ol' days and have it be open season on you guys."
"No, I do not want that." There was something in the dry tone of his voice.
"You're shielding so hard, I can't tell what you're feeling. You only shield this hard when you're scared, really scared."
"I am afraid that you will pick from my mind what I am forbidden to tell you. There is no, how do you say, fudging, on this… rule of law for us. If you learned this secret even in my mind, by accident, it might be grounds to slaughter both of us."
"What the hell is this secret?"
"I have told you all I can."
"Do I need to sleep at the Circus of the Damned with you tonight? Do we need to circle the wagons?"
He was quiet again, then finally said, "No, no."
"You don't sound sure."
"I think it would be a very bad thing for you to sleep with me tonight, ma petite. Sex and dreams are the times when shields drop, and you might learn what we cannot afford for you to know."
"Are you saying that I'm not going to see you until this is resolved?"
"No, no, ma petite, but not tonight. I will think about our situation and decide a course of action by tomorrow night."
"Course of action? What are the possibilities?"
"I dare not say."
"Damn it, Jean-Claude, talk to me." I was a little angry, but the tight feeling in my stomach was mostly fear.
"If all goes well, you will never learn this secret."
"But it's something that the council could have sent to kill Malcolm and destroy his church?"
"I cannot answer your questions."
"Won't, you mean."
"Non, ma petite, cannot. Has it not occurred to you that this could be a ploy of our enemies to give them an excuse under vampire law to destroy us?"
I suddenly felt cold. "No, it hadn't occurred to me."
"Think upon it, ma petite."
"You mean, they send something, so that if you tell me about it, then it, or they, can kill us. You think someone on the council is counting on the fact that we're so tightly bound metaphysically that you can't keep a secret this big from me. And if I find out, it won't just be Malcolm that they'll kill, but us, too."
"It is a thought, ma petite?"
"A very twisty-turny, underhanded thought."
"Vampires are a very twisty-turny lot, ma petite. As for underhanded, they would think of it as clever."
"They can think what they like, but it's a coward's way."
"Oh, no, ma petite, we do not want anyone on the council to put their full attention in a challenge to me. That would also be a very bad thing."
"So, what? I meet Nathaniel for our date, and I pretend we haven't had this talk?"
"Something like that, yes."
"I can't pretend that I don't know something big and bad has come to town."
"If it is not hunting us, be grateful, and do not pick at it. I beg you, Anita, for the sake of all you love, do not seek an answer to this riddle." He'd called me by my real name; it was a bad sign.
"I can't just pretend nothing is happening, Jean-Claude. Aren't you even going to tell me to be more careful than normal?"
"You are always careful, ma petite. I never worry that any bad thing will catch you unaware. It is one of your charms for me that you can take care of yourself."
The Harlequin ab-15 Page 2
