Jeaniene Frost - Up From the Grave

“How?” Bones asked calmly.

Madigan gave a cagey look at the hold Bones had on me before replying. “They were killed while trying to take down a vampire nest.”

“Must have been quite the nest.”

Madigan all but shrugged. “As it turned out, yes.”

“I want their bodies.”

Madigan showed more surprise than he had when I lunged at him. “What?”

“Their bodies,” Bones repeated, his tone hardening. “Now.”

“Why? You didn’t even like Tate,” Madigan muttered.

My murderous haze cleared. He was stalling, which meant in all likelihood, he was lying about their deaths. I tapped Bones’s arm. He released me, but one hand remained on my waist.

“My feelings are irrelevant,” Bones answered. “I sired them, so they’re mine, and if they’re dead, then you have no further use for them.”

“What possible use would you have?” Madigan demanded.

A dark brow rose. “Not your concern. I’m waiting.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t age,” Madigan snapped as he rose from his chair. “Their bodies were cremated and their ashes disposed of, so there’s nothing left to give you.”

If Madigan wanted us to believe they were dead, then they must be in serious trouble. Even if Madigan wasn’t behind it, he clearly intended to leave them to their fates.

I wasn’t about to.

Something in my stare must have alarmed him because he glanced left and right before flinging a hand in Bones’s direction.

“If you’re not intending to let her complete her term of service, then both of you can get out. Before I have her jailed for dereliction of duty, desertion, and trying to attack me.”

I expected Bones to tell him where to go, which was why I was stunned when he merely nodded.

“Until next time.”

“What?” I burst out. “We’re not leaving without more answers!”

His hand tightened on my waist.

“We are, Kitten. There’s nothing for us here.”

I glared at Bones before turning my attention to the thin, older man. Madigan’s face had paled, but underneath the heavy scent of cologne, he didn’t smell like fear. Instead, his blue gaze was defiant. Almost . . . daring.

Once more, Bones’s grip tightened. Something else was going on. I didn’t know what, but I trusted Bones enough not to grab Madigan and start biting the truth out of him like I wanted to. Instead, I smiled enough to bare my fangs.

“Sorry, but I don’t think you and I would have a healthy working relationship, so I’ll have to decline the job offer.”

Multiple footsteps sounded in the hall. Moments later, heavily armed, helmeted guards appeared in the doorway. At some point, Madigan must have pushed a silent alarm—an upgrade he’d installed since my previous visit to his office.

“Get out,” Madigan repeated.

I didn’t bother with any threats, but the single look I gave him said that this wasn’t over.

We were followed from the compound all the way back to the tree where Bones had left his cell phone. Once he retrieved it, we launched ourselves into the air. It took an hour of streaking across the sky before we lost the helicopter. Bones could have crashed it, but I didn’t have anything against the pilot aside from annoyance over his maneuverability skills. Once assured that we’d lost our tail, I plummeted down into a nearby field, landing with a skidding thud.

Bones dropped to the ground next to me without so much as a bent stem of grass to show for it. One day I’d master landing that gracefully. For now, I did well not to leave a small crater in my wake.

“Why did we let Madigan go so easily?” were my first words.

Bones dusted some dirt off that I’d kicked up with my impact. “My telekinesis isn’t strong enough to have stopped all the guns.”

My laugh was more disbelieving than amused. “You thought the guards would be faster than you?”

“Not them,” Bones said steadily. “The automated machine guns in the walls on either side of us.”

“What?” I gasped.

Then I remembered how Madigan had glanced to our right and our left when I was about to charge him. I’d thought he was looking about in alarm. Obviously not. No wonder he hadn’t smelled like fear.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“The room smelled of silver and gunpowder though none could be seen, plus the texture of the walls across from his desk had changed. His glancing at them when he felt threatened only confirmed it.”

Here I’d thought the silent alarm had been Madigan’s only addition to his office. Note to self: Pay more attention to surroundings.

“Why didn’t he use them? He’s always considered us a threat, and now that we know he’s lying about the guys, he’s right.”

Bones’s expression was coldly contemplative.

“Perhaps he wasn’t sure those guns would be enough, but more telling was how he tried to compel you to work for him. He wants you for something, Kitten, which means he needs you alive. The new security measures were only if he had no other choice.”

I was silent as I digested this. Since we first met several months ago, Madigan had exhibited an unusual interest in me, and it wasn’t the flattering kind. Whatever he wanted, it would end in my death, of that I had no doubt. The only thing I wasn’t sure of was what he hoped to accomplish before that.

He wouldn’t get a chance to find out. Once I discovered what had happened to my friends, I’d kill Madigan.

“Now what?” I asked, mentally gearing up for the road ahead.

Bones gave me a measured look. “Now we track down your uncle and force him to tell us the secret he’s tried so hard to keep.”

Just my luck that when I didn’t want to talk to Don, I couldn’t get rid of him. Now that I needed to speak with him, he was nowhere to be found.

After two days of waiting for him to show up, I was out of patience. Somewhere out there, my friends were in danger, and every passing second could be bringing them closer to death. Once, I’d been able to summon ghosts from miles away whether they wanted to come or not, but that power, like all the others I had absorbed when I drank undead blood, had faded. In his formless state, I couldn’t call, text, or e-mail my uncle to demand that he show up, but there was another way to get in touch with him although it required a road trip.

Bones and I pulled up to the Washington, D.C., strip mall right as the sun was setting. Lights were still on inside of Helen of Troy’s Garden, illuminating the various floral arrangements the shop sold. More importantly was the African-American man I glimpsed among the flowers, his vermilion shirt tight enough to look painted on.

“Good, he’s here,” I said.

We hadn’t called because I wasn’t sure if Tyler would agree to help us. The last time, it almost got him killed. People tended to hang on to that sort of thing, but a good medium was hard to find.

As we approached the shop, a dog began to bark. Seconds later, a furry, drool-bedecked face pressed against the lower portion of the glass door, his whole butt shaking from how hard he wagged his tail.

“What’s gotten into you, Dexter?” Tyler muttered. Then he came closer and saw Bones and me on the other side of the glass.

Oh HELL no, bolted across his mind.

“Is that any way to greet old friends?” Bones asked dryly.

Tyler drew his shoulders back, further stretching the strained fabric of his shirt.

“That’s not a greeting, sugar. It’s my answer to whatever you’ve come here to ask me to do.”

“Hi, Tyler, you look great,” I said, biting back a grin as I came inside his shop. “Love the shirt. Is that Dolce?”