35
We used the men's room. Linus's hands felt strangely soft as if there were no muscles under his skin, just bones and flesh. Maybe he'd given up other things to serve his master. He was creepy, but he was thorough. He even ran his fingers through my hair, which most people forget to do. He behaved himself, even when his hands were on delicate areas. He didn't give Richard any reason to grump at him. Me, either.
We all trooped back out to the table. The food hadn't arrived yet, but my coffee had. Everything goes down better with coffee.
We were again in the chairs with our backs to the door. If we'd gotten there first, they'd have had these chairs, so it was hard to bitch. Linus sat on Niley's right. I realized why we weren't in a booth. Linus wouldn't have fit.
"You wanted to talk, Niley. Talk." I sipped coffee. It was bitter and had been on the burner too long, but there's no such thing as undrinkable coffee. I did hope the food was better.
"I want you to leave town, Anita."
"Wilkes and his men already covered that. We told them we were leaving by sundown," I said.
"I know what you told the good sheriff," Niley said. He wasn't smiling now. His eyes were cool, the humor dying from his face like the sun sinking away, leaving the world to darkness.
"I don't think he believes we're leaving, Richard," I said.
"I don't care what he believes," Richard said.
I glanced at Richard. He was sitting with his arms crossed, staring at Niley. It would have been more unnerving without the manatee T-shirt, but he got the point across. So much for Richard playing clever repartee with me. I left him to his quiet anger and plowed ahead alone.
"Why is it so important that we get out of town, Niley?"
"I told you. The spirits say to come against you is death."
I shook my head. "What spirits?"
"Howard uses the Ouija board as well as his other gifts. The spirits warned of a Lady Death. A woman that would be my undoing. We were warned of this in connection to this purchase. When I heard your name mentioned, I suddenly knew who Lady Death was. The spirits say that if I come against you directly, you will slay me."
"So you sent Wilkes and his bully boys around to scare me off."
"Yes, and I hired two locals to kill you. Are they dead?"
I smiled. "I didn't search you guys for wires, now did I?"
He seemed to find that amusing. "I suppose not. But I assume the two men will not be coming back for the second half of their payment."
"You can assume that," I said.
The waitress came with our food. We were all utterly quiet as she set the plates down. She put syrup in front of me and asked if we wanted anything else. We all shook our heads, and off she went.
I stared down at my pancakes and bacon and wished I hadn't ordered them. I wasn't in the mood to spar anymore. I just wanted this over.
"If you're not supposed to confront me directly, then why the change of plans? Why this meeting?"
He smiled and cut a piece of his country omelet. "Anita, do not be coy. I think we both know that Wilkes does not have the stomach for this work. He may work himself up to shooting you, but he is not up to truly scaring you away. His threat, shall we say, lacks a certain fright factor." He took his bite of omelet and chewed.
"Is the threat next?" I said, pouring syrup on my pancakes.
He smiled, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, and shook his head. "Let us save that for last. Now, ask your questions."
"Why do you want this piece of land?"
Richard shifted in his chair, leaning forward. He'd been wondering about that particular question longer than I had.
"There is a relic on that land somewhere. I need to own the land so I can tear it up and search for the relic."
"What relic?" I asked.
He smiled. "The lance that pierced Christ's side."
I stared at him. I stared at him longer. He didn't seem to be kidding. "That is a myth, Niley."
"You don't believe in Christ?"
"Of course I do, but a Roman lance doesn't last for thousands of years. It was lost long ago."
"Do you believe in the Grail?" he asked.
"The Grail is a historical fact. It's been found and lost twice in recorded history. The spear has never been authenticated. It's passed around like the bones of some saint, but it's just bait for the gullible."
"Do I look gullible, Anita?"
"No," I said. "How did it get to the mountains of Tennessee?"
"The spear was given as a private gift to President James Madison."
I frowned at him. "I don't remember that from history class."
"It is listed among the gifts from a certain Mideastern principality. One spear. Roman. Unfortunately, it was one of the items that went missing after the British burned and sacked Washington, D.C., in 1815."
"I remember reading about the burning of the White House during the War of 1812. Valuables went missing. So, say you're right. How did it end up here?" I asked.
"Howard has chased it here through his psychic gifts. The spirits have led us to this place. We hired a diviner, and he traced off the boundaries of our search area. That area lies within Greene's land."
"Search the land," Richard said. "You don't have to buy it to do that. You don't have to disturb the trolls to search for a spear."
"It could be buried anywhere on the land, Richard. I don't think Greene would appreciate us tearing up his property unless we owned it."
"I'm amazed that Greene is still alive," I said.
"We looked into his father's will. Did you know that if the man's son dies, the land becomes an animal preserve? He was enamored of your trolls, Mr. Zeeman, was the late Farmer Greene."
"I didn't know that," Richard said.
"Why should you? John Greene, the man's son, is trying to sell to us. He told us all the provisions of his father's estate. He was complaining about them, but it saved his life. So we must buy the land, and the trolls must be gone for that -¨C unless you will simply stop fighting the sale in court." Niley smiled at Richard. "Would you do that for me, Richard? Would you just let us buy the land? I promise we will disturb your trolls as little as possible."
Richard leaned over to me and whispered, "Are you running your foot up and down my leg?"
I looked at him. "No."
Richard scooted his chair back with a loud scrape. He moved closer to me, one arm going around the back of my chair. "Once you own the land, Niley, you can bulldoze it, and we can't stop you. The only thing we can do is stop your purchase."
"Richard, you disappoint me. After our little tete-a-tete in the bathroom, I thought we were friends."
Richard blushed almost purple from his neck to the roots of his hair. "Why did you kill Betty?"
"Why, to frame the trolls for the death of a person. I thought you would have figured that out by now."
"Why Betty?"
Linus answered in his high, musical voice. "She was a liar, a traitoress, and a wanton thing. She opened herself to evil."
Power breathed off of Richard from the arm against my back. An almost visible aura of heat rose around him. It clicked with something deep inside of me. I put a hand on his thigh. He jumped until he realized it was me, then settled back. I thought soothing thoughts at him. But what he was thinking of was Betty, and the thought was strong enough that he made me flash on her body. I had one quick visual of her torn breasts, and he stood so abruptly his chair fell to the floor. His hands were on the table, and he swayed softly. I thought he might faint.
I started to touch him, but was afraid to, afraid he'd see more. Shang-Da came to take his arm.
The voices around us had quieted, hushed. Everyone was looking. "Please, Richard, sit down," I whispered.
Shang-Da helped him sit. We all waited quietly, watching each other until the voices around us rose and everyone went back to eating. Howard whispered, "Your auras converged for a moment. They became one piece and flared. What are you to each other?"
Richard's voice squeezed out, "Betty wasn't perfect, but she didn't deserve to die like that." He leaned his face down toward the table, and I realized he was crying.
I touched his back, tentatively, rubbing it in small circles. "Your plan to blame her death on the trolls is a bust. Now what?"
"It doesn't matter what we're going to do next, Anita. You will be out of town."
"We told Wilkes we were leaving," I said.
Richard took off the sunglasses and wiped at his eyes with his palms.
"Look at me, please, Richard," Niley said.
Maybe it was the please; for just an instant, Richard looked across the table. For an instant, Niley saw his eyes. "Such pretty brown eyes. You are a lucky woman, Anita."
Richard started to push to his feet. I laid a hand on his arm. His muscles were hard and so tense they thrummed with, I think, a desire to jump across the table and hurt Niley.
"I want to make sure that you are gone. Lately, the spirits have told Howard of a beast that will aid the lady. I think I am looking at the beast."
"How did you find out?" I asked.
Richard slid the glasses back in place and slid his chair back into the table. His shoulders were hunched so hard, the T-shirt was straining at the seams.
"The local vampires don't like you much," Niley said. "I approached them, trying to gather information about the spear. Some of them have been in this area for long enough to have witnessed the event. Sadly, they had not, but they told me interesting things about you and Richard and the Master of the City in Saint Louis. They said you were a menage a trois, though Richard seems reluctant to admit an interest in men."
"Don't believe everything that you're told, Niley, especially from people who don't like us. Your enemies always make up better rumors than your friends."
Niley pouted. "Oh, dear. Then my advances have been very unwanted indeed." He laughed. The smile faded. "I think it is time for the threat."
"Knock yourself out," I said.
"I think a tranquillizer dart from a distance for Richard. When he wakes, he will be bound by silver chains and on his stomach, naked. I will rape him, and I will enjoy it. Then I will let Linus slit his throat, and Linus will enjoy that." He turned cold eyes to me. "You, Anita, I will give to Linus for his master."
Linus turned to me. He looked the same, but the skin on my back tried to detach itself and crawl away and hide. Every hair on my arm stood up in nervous rows. Evil whispered through that bright diner.
Howard gasped, hugging himself.
I stared at Linus and didn't try to hide it. I was scared of him and what lay inside him.
Niley laughed, deep and pleasant. "I think we understand each other at last, Anita."
Richard turned and looked at Linus. The hair on his arms was standing at attention, too. He spoke, looking directly at the sorcerer. "How you are fallen from Heaven, O Day Star, son of Dawn!"
At the first line, that awful power receded, the skin creeping a little less. Linus's face was no longer pleasant.
Richard said, "How you are cut down to the ground, you who laid the nations low! You said in your heart, 'I will ascend to Heaven; Above the stars of God I will set my throne on high.' Isaiah." With the last line, the scent of evil retreated. It lingered like perfume in an empty room, but it was closed down for now.
"Impressive, Richard," Niley said. "So you are a true believer."
Richard rose slowly from his chair. He put a hand flat on the table and leaned across it. I felt the prickling rush of energy like a hot thread pulled across my skin. He lowered his sunglasses just enough for Niley to see his eyes, and I knew what he was doing. I knew that Niley was watching those brown eyes change to wolf amber.
Richard spoke low and carefully. " 'And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.' " He slid his glasses back over his eyes, stood, and stepped away from the table. He held his hand out for me. I took it. I let him lead me out of the restaurant. Shang-Da followed at our backs.
I risked a glance back. I didn't turn to a pillar of salt, but I saw Niley's face. And I knew, knew without doubt, that he would see us dead.
36
I didn't even ask Richard if we were leaving town for real. I knew the answer, and frankly, I was with him. On the off chance that Niley was right and the spear was here, we couldn't let him have it. But it was more than that. Richard had drawn a line in the sand; good versus evil. Good can't tuck tail and run. It's against the rules.
It took about three hours for us to pack and pretend to leave town. We put Jamil in the back of the van with a coffin on either side of him to keep the stretcher from sliding around. Nathaniel had managed to get his lower back sliced up defending my honor. Though he admitted that he hadn't been fighting so much as getting in the way of an eager werewolf. However it happened, he got to ride in the back with the injured, probably stretching on top of a coffin, for all I knew. Cherry rode in back with them -¨C I think to act as a peace officer. Jamil didn't seem to like Nathaniel much. I drove the van. Richard followed in his four-by-four with Shang-Da, and all the equipment he'd brought for an entire summer of camping and studying large primates. Everybody else rode with me.
Sheriff Wilkes sent Maiden and Thompson to escort us out of town in a black and white, or in this case, a blue and white, but the effect was the same. Thompson waved merrily as we drove past them out of the city limits. It would have been childish to give him the finger, so I didn't do it. Zane did it for me. Jason blew them a kiss.
We drove for over an hour to a prearranged rendezvous with Verne. We couldn't all stay at one house. Too many new people might raise suspicions, so we divided up. I didn't like it, but I had to agree that all together we made too good a show.
I ended up driving to Marianne's house. I rode in the back of her truck with Zane, Cherry, and the coffins. Nathaniel got to ride in the truck cab because of his claw wound. Zane's gunshot wound seemed to be healing a lot faster than the claw marks. I wasn't sure if it was because Nathaniel was a slow healer or if bullet wounds just healed faster than claws.
The open bed of the truck was a very rough ride. I wedged myself in the corner near the cab, with Damian's coffin pressed against my ribs. If I pressed my head back against the truck to brace my neck, my teeth rattled. If I sat up more, my neck snapped with every pothole. It was like an endless beating, until my bones thrummed with it and I had a headache the size of Idaho in the middle of my forehead. The sun was like a smear of yellow fire in the sky. It beat down unblinking, unrelenting, until sweat ran down my face and arms.
Zane was in the corner opposite me, shoved against Asher's coffin. His black T-shirt had molded to him like a sweaty second skin. Cherry had chosen a white T-shirt today. The reddish dust of the road clung to the white material and mingled with the sweat until it was like dried blood.
My hair had turned into a mass of sweaty ringlets. Not those cute Shirley Temple ringlets. Nothing that neat, just a curled mess. Zane and Cherry's hair just lay slick and flat against their heads.
The three of us made no effort to talk. We settled into the heat and bone-jarring ride like it was a kind of coma, something to be endured rather than shared.
The road spilled onto a paved road, and the sudden smoothness was almost startling. I could hear again.
"Thank God," Cherry said.
Marianne yelled back to us, "Car coming, hide."
We all wiggled under the top layer of the tarp covering the coffins. There was a second tarp and ropes underneath me. The tarp smelled musty and dry. It was a toss-up whether it was cooler because of the shade or hotter because of the lack of air. I thought I heard a car go by in a spill of gravel, but Marianne didn't tell us to get up, so I didn't. I could see Zane through the hot dimness. We looked at each other with dull eyes; then I smiled. He smiled. It all started to be funny. You just reach a level of discomfort where you either scream or laugh.
The truck lurched to a rattling stop. In the sudden silence I could hear Zane laughing. Cherry's voice came clearly, "What in hell is so funny?"
"We're home, boys and girls," Marianne said. "You can come out now."
Zane and I crawled out into the open air, still giggling. Cherry frowned at both of us. "What is so funny?"
We both shook our heads. You either got the joke, or you didn't. It could not be explained, not even to ourselves.
Marianne came to stand near me. "I'm glad to see you're in a better mood."
I ran my hands through my hair and could almost squeeze the sweat out of it. "Might as well be in a good mood. The day's not going to improve."
Marianne frowned. "Pessimism is unbecoming in one so young."
She stood there, looking cool and collected, wearing a sleeveless white shirt tied off at the waist. It wasn't a midriff but gave the illusion of one. A pair of pale blue shorts and flat, white tennis shoes completed the outfit. Her pale hair was in a bun. The hair was all streaks: silvery grey, pale blond, and white. Fine lines showed at her eyes and mouth that hadn't been visible last night. Over fifty, but like Verne, her body was still thin and firm. She looked cool, comfortable, and far too clean.
"I need a shower," I said.
"I second the motion," Cherry said.
Zane just nodded.
"Welcome to my home," Marianne said.
The truck was parked in a gravel driveway of a two story white house. The house had yellow shutters and a pink climbing rose up one side of the front porch. There were two tubs of white and pink geraniums at the bottom of the wide porch steps. The flowers were lush and well watered. The yard was brown and dying in the summer heat. Actually, I approved. I didn't believe in watering grass. A small flock of speckled hens pecked in the dry dirt of the yard.
"Nice," I said.
She smiled. "Thank you. The barn is over that way, hidden by the trees. I've got some dairy cows and horses. The garden's behind the house. You'll be able to see it from your bedroom."
"Great, thanks."
She smiled. "Why do I think you don't care about my tomato crop?"
"Let me take a shower, and I'll care," I said.
"We can unload the coffins, then your two wereleopards can take a bath. I hope there's enough hot water for three baths. If two of you could double up, it would conserve water."
"I'm not sharing," I said. I looked at Cherry.
She shrugged, "Zane and I can share."
It must have shown on my face, because she added, "We aren't lovers, Anita. Though we have been. It will be ... a comfort to touch each other. It's not sexual. It's ... " She looked at Marianne, as if for help.
Marianne smiled. "One of the things that binds a pack or a pard into a unit is touch. They touch each other constantly. They groom each other. They care for each other."
I shook my head. "I'm not sharing a bathtub."
"No one is asking you to," Marianne said. "There are many ways to forge a pack bond, Anita."
"I'm not part of the pack," I said.
"There are many ways to be part of the pack, Anita. I have found my place among them, and I am not lukoi." She left Zane, Cherry, and me to unload the coffins while she took Nathaniel off to lie down. Cherry and Zane helped stow the coffins in the basement, then went off to take their communal bath.
The entrance to the basement was outside, like an old-fashioned storm cellar. The back door was all screen and wood. It clanged loudly as the wereleopards went inside. Marianne met me at that door, stepped through that door, and blocked my way.
She was smiling and calm and seemed at peace in the center of her universe. Just seeing that content look on her face made me itchy and uncomfortable. Made me want to scream and lash out until her universe was as messy as my own. How dare she be content when I was so confused?
"What is so very wrong, child? I can hear your confusion like bees buzzing in the walls."
There was a stand of pine trees near the back of the house like a line of soldiers. The air smelled like a perpetual Christmas. I usually like the smell of pine, but not today. I just wasn't in a Christmas mood. I leaned against the weathered boards of the house, while she stayed on the small back porch looking down at me.
The Firestar dug into my back. I pulled it out and shoved it down the front of my jeans. Fuck it if somebody saw.
"You saw Verne," I said.
She looked at me, grey eyes calm, unreadable. "I saw what you did to his neck, if that is what you mean."
"Yeah, that's what I mean."
"Your mark on his neck proves two things to all of us. That you consider yourself his equal -¨C no small boast -¨C and that you are not happy with his hospitality to date. Are either of these untrue?"
I thought about that for a moment, then said, "I don't acknowledge anyone as dominant to me. Maybe they can beat the shit out of me or kill me, but they're not better than I am. Stronger doesn't mean better or more dominant."
"There are those who would argue with you, Anita, but I am not one of them."
"And no, I'm not happy with the hospitality to date. I destroyed most of Colin's vampires for you guys. Verne was pleased as punch, but he still didn't let me have my guns last night. If I'd had my guns last night, then the bad guys wouldn't have nearly killed Jamil and Jason and Zane -¨C hell -¨C and me."
"Verne regretted last night or he would not have offered himself to you."
"Great, fine, but I didn't mean to mark him. I didn't mean to do it. Do you understand, Marianne? I didn't do it on purpose. Just like last night with the munin, this morning I wasn't in control. I was seduced by the scent of blood and warm flesh. It was ... creepy."
She laughed. "Creepy? Is that the best word you can come up with, Anita? Creepy. You are the Executioner and a force to be feared, but you are still so ... young."
I looked up at her. "You mean naive."
"You are not naive in the sense that it is usually meant. I am sure you have seen more blood and death than I have. It stains your power, this violence. You both attract it and pursue it. But there is something about you that stays fresh and somehow perpetually childlike. No matter how jaded you grow, there will always be a part of you that would be more comfortable saying 'golly' than 'goddamn.' "
I wanted to wiggle under the intensity of her gaze, or run. "I am losing control of my life, Marianne, and control is very important to me."
"I would say that control is one of themost important things to you."
I nodded, my hair catching on the peeling paint of the house. I pushed away from the boards to stand in front of her in the dusty yard. "How can I get back control, Marianne? You seem to have all the answers."
She laughed again, that wholesome-bedroom sound. "Not all the answers, but the answers you seek, perhaps. I know that the munin will come for you again. It may be when you least expect it or when you need your precious control the most. It may overwhelm you and cost the lives of people you hold dear as it could have last night. All that saved Richard from having to kill to get to you was Verne's intercession."
"Raina would love that, to drag one of us down to the grave."
"I felt the munin's pleasure in destruction. You are attracted to violence, but only as it serves a greater purpose. It is a tool that you use well. Your old lupa was attracted to violence for its own sake, as a destructive thing. Destroying was what she was about. It is nicely ironic that someone so dedicated to negativity was also a healer."
"Life is just full of little ironies," I said. I didn't try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
"You have a chance to make her munin, her essence, into something positive. In a way, you might help her spirit work through some of its karma."
I frowned at her.
She waved her hands. "My apologies. I'll keep the philosophy to a minimum. I believe I can help you call and tame the munin. I believe that together we can begin to harness all the different kinds of power you are being offered now. I can teach you to ride not just the munin but this master vampire of yours, and even your Ulfric. You are their key to each other, Anita. Their bridge. Their feelings for you are part of the binding that has been wrought between the three. I can make you the rider and not the horse."
There was a fierceness in her face, a force that made my skin react. She meant what she said; she believed it. And strangely, so did I.
"I want to control it, Marianne, all of it. I want that more than almost anything right now. If I can't stop it, I want to control it."
She smiled, and it made her eyes sparkle. "Good; then let's begin with our first lesson."
I frowned at her. "What lesson?"
"Come into the house, Anita. The first lesson is waiting for you if your heart and mind are open to it." She went back inside without waiting for me.
I stood there for a moment in the summer heat. If my heart and mind were open to it. What the hell did that mean? Well, as the cliche goes, only one way to find out. I opened the screen door and walked inside. Lesson number one was waiting for me.
