Jeaniene Frost - Up From the Grave

“Don’t. Touch. Her.”

Each word hissed out with naked enmity. People around us started to whisper behind their hands. Muscular men with wires taped to their ears began to push through the crowd. Undercover Secret Service agents, no doubt. Trove flashed a smile at them, holding up his hands as much as Bones’s grip would allow.

“Everything’s all right, fellows. As I used to say when I was young, it’s not a party until something gets broken.”

Then lower, to Bones. “If you don’t want me to start killing innocent bystanders, you’ll let go of me.”

Bones smiled back but didn’t loosen the grip he had on Trove’s arms.

“A roomful of politicians? Have at it.”

“Bones.”

I got up, pulling the waiter with me without taking my eyes off the two men. “Don’t.”

Aside from not every politician deserving such a fate, their families were here, too. So were hotel staff, and besides that, reporters. If things took a lethal, supernatural turn, it would be all over the news before we could begin to contain it.

“I think I had too much champagne,” I said in an abashed way, twining my arm through Bones’s. “Darling, take me for some air?”

He was so tense, his flesh felt like steel beneath my touch. I tried to discreetly tug him, but he didn’t budge. The Secret Service agents, who’d started to walk away at Trove’s mollifying statement, turned around. From their thoughts, they were about to take action.

“Not here,” I whispered, when Bones still didn’t move.

Then louder, to Trove, “Won’t you accompany us?”

The demon smiled, showing off teeth so white, he must’ve had them professionally bleached.

“Of course.”

Then he glanced at the grip Bones still had on his arms, raising a single gray brow. At last, Bones released him, his answering flash of teeth too brief to be called a smile.

“After you, mate.”

We went up the stairs to the second level of the Grand Ballroom, where far fewer people were gathered. Trove impatiently waved away a Secret Service escort that tried to accompany him, making my wariness increase. Sure, he had no idea that we knew how to dispatch a demon, but why did he seem almost in a hurry to get us alone?

Only one reason I could think of: He intended to kill us. Ballsy of him to pick a public place to do it. He knew what we were, and vampires only died the messy way, not that I had any intention of dying tonight.

Once we were clear of most prying eyes, Trove’s mask of genial charm slipped, and I caught a glimpse of the real person beneath. To say it was like looking into the eyes of a beast was an insult to animals.

“Hit me with more of that delicious power, would you?” he said to Bones in a sinuous voice. “Felt so good, I almost came.”

“What kind of demon are you?” I asked over Bones’s snarl.

“An Ornias,” Trove replied, surprising me. I hadn’t really expected an answer.

Bones let out a harsh snort.

“That’s why my power doesn’t work on you. Your kind absorbs energy and feeds from it.”

I hadn’t known that power-absorbing demons existed, but then I’d only had experience with a few. The first had branded Denise, the second possessed and nearly killed Bones, and the third had tried to get me to pawn my soul in exchange for information. To say I disliked their kind was an understatement.

Trove shuddered in what looked like blissful remembrance.

“I have to drain the life force from over a dozen humans to absorb one-tenth of what you just doused me with. I want to feel that again, which is one of the reasons why you’re still alive.”

“Think you can kill me?” A dangerous little smile curled Bones’s mouth. “You’re welcome to try.”

Below us, the affluent and the powerful continued to mingle, unaware of how close to death they were. If Trove shed his human act and went for Bones, no one would be safe in the ensuing fight. We didn’t have any demon bone, and Bones’s powers only made the creature stronger, but I wasn’t about to let him harm my husband. From his words and the coiled rage leaking out from Bones’s shields, neither was he about to wave the white flag.

“Why did you back Madigan in his attempts to create tri-species supersoldiers? Normally, our kinds don’t mess in each other’s business.”

My voice was brisk. Either the demon would answer or he wouldn’t, but it cost me nothing to ask.

Trove took his amber gaze off Bones long enough to flick it over me in a way that made me expect a trail of slime where it landed.

“You know how much I hate vampires?” he asked in a conversational tone. “The only things more disgusting are flesh eaters, and though your races came close once or twice, you just won’t go the distance and destroy each other.”

I tried not to show my shock as understanding dawned. Madigan had had no idea what he was risking by blending vampire and ghoul DNA into a human to create a new subspecies. Trove, however, knew exactly what would happen. The resulting war had been his intention all along.

Bones let out a low, mocking laugh. “And you thought you’d found a way to solve our peace problem? Sorry to disappoint.”

“My people were here first. ”

Trove’s voice lost its smooth Texan twang, revealing a guttural intonation and an accent I’d never heard before.

“Then your races came,” he spat. “Humans were easy to dominate, but not your kinds. And how you protected your precious food from us! You drove us nearly to extinction, forcing us to hide for millennia, until neither side could remember how close it had come for my people. The only reason I know what happened is because I was there.”

I wondered why he was telling us this. Demons didn’t care if we understood their motivations. What was he up to?

“Finally, in the fourteen hundreds, ghouls and vampires began rising against each other,” Trove went on. “Such a surprise to realize all it took was a half-breed French girl and the threat of change she posed. Pity Joan was sacrificed so quickly. She nearly caused your races to annihilate each other.”

“And over six hundred years later, another half-breed showed up,” I summarized. “You must’ve thought hell had been granted a Christmas.”

Trove smiled in a way that seemed genuinely amused.

“Along with the advances in science, I did. When I heard that Don had discovered another half-breed, I dropped everything for you, Catherine Crawfield. Poured money into the department your uncle founded and made sure that Madigan was still busy experimenting with your genetic material even after Don fired him. How else was I going to ensure my success if you, like Joan of Arc, died before its fruition?”

His revelations were starting to remind me of the classic movie villain trope: monologuing. From the suspicion edging Bones’s emotions, he was concerned by it, too. Trove had to have an ulterior reason for this. Was he stalling, waiting for demonic reinforcements to arrive?

That’s when I noticed that Bones had maneuvered us next to one of the tall windows with a cityscape view. Our way out if we needed it.

As if reading my thoughts, Trove glanced at the window, then swept out his hand.

“Be my guest, but as I said, I mean you no harm. Vampire or not, I want you alive, Catherine. Otherwise, I would’ve killed you long ago. Do you know how many times one of my people stood over your unconscious body after you came back from one of your uncle’s missions?”

At my narrowing gaze, he grinned, showing those prime-time-ready teeth again.

“Does the name Brad Parker ring a bell?”

It did, but I couldn’t remember who . . . wait!

“The lab assistant who worked for Don,” Bones supplied in a growl. “I killed him years ago, after he betrayed her to her father.”