Jeaniene Frost - This Side of the Grave

Blood . That was their remote control. The Remnants had only appeared after Vlad bloodied my lip, just like they’d only appeared after Marie sliced her wrist with that little mini dagger in her ring. She must have cut herself with it again to draw them off when I wasn’t looking. That would have been easy; I’d been staring in horror at Bones more than focusing on her. The fresh blood from my head was enough to get them to stop chewing on Vlad, but it would soon heal like my lip had. I couldn’t let them turn on Vlad again. He couldn’t take much more.

I didn’t bother taking the time to pull out one of my knives, but slammed my hand onto the jagged, sharp remains of the headstone, inflicting another deep laceration.

“All right, you deadly little ghostlings,” I muttered. “Mama says go back to bed !”

I shut the car door, leaning against itfor a second, thinking that if life were fair, I could go upstairs and take the longest, hottest shower on record to help chase away the chill that still permeated every cell of me. Instead, we were back at the town house just so I could quickly change clothes. Couldn’t quite pull off my happy bar hopper disguise if I went out covered in my own blood.

“You two are back early,” a dry voice stated.

I glanced up to see Mencheres framed in the doorway of the town house. Vlad got out, shut his door a little harder than was necessary, and threw the Egyptian vampire a jaded look.

“Car trouble,” he said, in a voice that dared Mencheres to inquire further.

“You’re back a bit early yourself. Did you find anything interesting?” I asked, trying to divert his attention from the obvious fact that I was splattered in blood while the car looked and sounded fine.

“Nothing Dave had not already confirmed,” Mencheres replied, with a slight shrug.

I didn’t sigh, but I felt like it. Guess it was too much to hope that Apollyon’s address would be spray painted graffiti-style on one of the walls as an appeasement gesture from Fate after the night we had—and it was still early, by vampire standards.

“Don’t be disappointed, Cat. I didn’t expect to find anything. That’s not why I went,” Mencheres said, opening the front door for us.

My brows rose, but I went inside, figuring this conversation was best held somewhere other than on the small lawn. Vlad glanced at Mencheres with equal curiosity but also followed me inside. Once the door was shut, I gave a longing glance at the couch but stayed standing.

“Are you going to tell us why you went, then?” I asked.

“Because even if I didn’t expect to find anything new, it would be foolish not to make certain,” Mencheres said. He leaned against the door frame, the picture of nonchalance. “Besides, if I hadn’t left, then you wouldn’t have attempted to exercise your new powers, would you?” he added.

“You knew ?” I blurted, not sure which stunned me more; the fact that Mencheres was obviously aware that I had the ability, or that he’d let me try using it without telling Bones on me. “Did you, um, know because you saw it?” It would be great if his visions were back up to full strength again . . .

The look Mencheres gave me—and Vlad, too, I noticed—was pointed. “No. But I, too, heard you this morning, so I didn’t need a vision to predict what Vlad would do if the two of you were left alone long enough. People’s natures can be far more telling than even visions at times.”

Vlad let out a chuckle. “You sly dog, you set me up! Here I thought I was pulling one over on you, but in reality, you were playing me like a chess piece.”

Mencheres flashed him a grin that was full of mischief. I stared, never having seen the normally reserved mega-Master vampire with such a wicked, teasing expression.

“You forget, Vlad, I’m the one who trained you in deviousness. Maybe in a few more centuries, you’ll be able to outwit me, but not yet.”

Then he focused his attention on me and his expression returned to its normal seriousness. “You were obviously injured trying, but did it work?”

I glanced at Vlad before speaking, noting the curl of his lip that said he’d rather not dwell on how well it had worked.

“Oh yeah. Blood is the key. I should have known, right? It’s always blood with the undead. Vampires need it to feed, and it’s instrumental with ghouls, because a transplanted ghoul heart might be step two in making them, but it’s vampire blood before and after death that’s step one and three.”

And blood was how Marie had gotten her powers in the first place, as a Mambo whose powers became permanent when she was turned into a ghoul. Looking back, it seems obvious that blood should have been the first thing I tried.

Then again , my logic pointed out, Vlad hadn’t thought of it, either, and he has quite a lot more experience with blood than you . Maybe I should quit giving myself a hard time and just accept that only hindsight was twenty-twenty, not foresight.

“We now know I can do it, but I feel like hell,” I went on. “I’m so cold my teeth would chatter if they still could. And I’m hungry enough that both of you are starting to look really, really good.”

Vlad’s lips curled. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to remind you that this is just the leftover power talking and you don’t really want to cheat on Bones?”

“Not that kind of hungry!” I gasped, eyes bulging that Vlad thought I’d just casually thrown out that I wanted him and Mencheres to double-team me. “I meant hungry like drinking you guys’ blood . Not hungry for . . . you know.”

Without thought, my gaze flew to the areas in question before skipping away once I realized what I was doing. Then my cheeks actually tingled with mortification as Vlad let out a long, hearty laugh. Mencheres, more courteous, pretended to suddenly find something fascinating in the door frame, but I saw his lips twitch.

“My dear Reaper,” Vlad said, still laughing. “Did you just check out our—”

“No!” I interrupted at once, almost lunging toward the staircase. “I’m tired and still dazed from the Remnants and . . . fuck it, I’m taking a shower. I mean, not a cold shower, because I don’t need that”—oh Jesus, I was only making this worse—“because I am cold already, and I need to get hot. I mean, warmer. Oh, just shut up!”

This as Vlad continued to laugh the whole time I went up the stairs. At least he seemed in a better mood after his near-death experience, even if his new cheer was at my expense. Arrogant Romanian. But considering I’d been responsible for Vlad’s recent brush with death, maybe he was owed a little masculine mockery. All things considered, his teasing was the least I could bear to make it up to him.

As for Mencheres, well, here’s hoping he chalked that up to equality. He’d seen me in less than my underwear before, so if all things were fair, I was owed that glance.

Besides, it had to be nothing more than a manifestation of the “future twinges” from her power that Marie had warned Bones about. In my right mind, I would never check out Vlad or—God help me!—Mencheres’s packages.

And neither of them was wearing tight pants, so it’s not like I could discern anything specific, anyway.

Once I was in my room, however, I didn’t jump right in to the shower. I pulled out my cell phone, pinpricks of conscience still needling me.

“Bones,” I said as soon as he answered. “I know I just saw you this morning, but wow, do I miss you!”

Three days later, I was on the couch, scratching my cat in his favorite spot behind the ears, when a faint tingle in the air made me look up. I’d gotten better at recognizing the telltale signs that said a ghost who was strong enough to get through my stinky force field of weed and garlic was about to pop up nearby.