Jeaniene Frost - This Side of the Grave

He stopped, giving a last glare to Winston while mouthing, You. Me. Exorcist , before returning to my side.

I shook my head. Vampire territorialism. It had no sense of appropriate timing.

“As I said, there’s something very important I need you to do. I’m looking for a ghoul who’s trying to start a war among the undead, and he’ll have a lot of other pissed-off, vampire-hating ghouls with him.”

It would be a huge task, but if Marie found Gregor through ghosts with no clue where he was in the world, then I should be able to find Apollyon a lot easier with what I knew.

“Ride the ley lines,” I said, feeling like a warped version of General Patton rallying my troops. “Tell your friends and get them hunting, too. Search all the larger funeral homes that are bordered by cemeteries. Find the short ghoul with the black comb-around that goes by the name of Apollyon, and then come right back and tell me where he is .”

“Not you, luv,” Bones said at once. “Fabian. Have them report to Fabian, who will then relay it to you.”

Good point. I trusted Marie’s power enough to believe that every ghost I personally spoke to wouldn’t betray me, but I was enlisting others who’d never met me. No need to have this plan backfire by leading Apollyon right to me instead of vice versa.

I gestured to the ghost at my side. “Wait. Report back to Fabian, my right-hand man. He’ll stay here so you’ll be able to find him.”

Fabian’s chest puffed out at my declaration, a beaming smile spreading across his face. I rested my hand over where his shoulder would be, meeting the gaze of every ghost who stared at me.

“Now go,” I urged them. “Hurry.”

A silvery blur flitted over the othercars in the parking lot before diving into our black van. We were only a couple miles away from the Lasting Peace cemetery and funeral home in Garland, Texas. It had taken Marie Laveau twelve years of sending out ghosts to find Gregor, but Fabian received information of Apollyon’s whereabouts in six days.

In fairness, the world was a big damn place, and Mencheres had had Gregor in an old, reinforced mine tunnel in Madagascar—hell and gone from Marie’s home base of New Orleans. I, however, had narrowed Apollyon’s location down to only one country and a type of business. Still, they had done an amazing job. No one would disparage ghosts while I was around, that was for sure.

Fabian’s features solidified from the random hazy swirls, but his mouth was turned down in a frown.

“I think you should get more people.”

“How many are there?” Bones asked him.

“At least four score,” Fabian replied. “They’re having a rally in about an hour.”

“Is Apollyon still there?” I pressed.

Fabian nodded. “You could capture him afterward, once the others leave.”

Bones exchanged a glance with me. Or Apollyon could leave with the other ghouls. Then we’d need to have the ghosts hunt him for us all over again.

“The bulk of the ghouls—do they look like visitors for the rally, or guards?” Bones asked, tapping his chin.

Fabian looked confused. “How would I tell?”

“You can tell by how many of them are armed,” Vlad said, with pointed emphasis on the last word.

“Ah.” Fabian’s brow smoothed. “A few of them had large weapons with bullets that crisscrossed around their torsos.”

I made a mental note to familiarize Fabian with modern artillery so he’d be able to give better descriptions.

“Machine guns?” I asked, miming holding one and making a series of rapid staccato noises.

Bones’s mouth twitched, but he dipped his head so I wouldn’t see his clear amusement over my “GI Jane does Pictionary” imitation.

“Yes, those,” Fabian said. “Some of the other people could have knives on them, but those were the only weapons I could see.”

Vlad let out a snort. “I didn’t come this far to run now.”

I felt the same way. Still, I had to assume the machine guns were armed with silver bullets and at least some of the ghouls would have silver knives. Most of them might not be armed, but eight to one was still eight to one.

“Mencheres, use your power to keep any humans from getting hurt. One side of the cemetery borders a business district, and I can’t have Tate send troops to block it off because that would tip Apollyon to our presence. So keeping people out of the way is your top priority.”

“As opposed to restraining Apollyon?” he asked, polite disagreement in his tone.

I met his charcoal gaze. “If you rip his head off, that looks very impressive for you, but it won’t do me much good. You guys keep telling me if I don’t smack people down hard enough when they come after me, then more will follow. Well, I’m the one Apollyon used as a scapegoat all this time, so I’m the one who has to take him down.”

Silence met this pronouncement. I braced for arguments, especially from Bones, so I was surprised when he coolly nodded his head.

“Don’t use your power to restrain the other ghouls, either,” Bones stated. “We’ll take them in a match of strength on strength.”

I looked around at the occupants of the van. In addition to Mencheres, Kira, Vlad, Spade, Denise, Ed, and Scratch, we’d picked up a few new additions in recent days. Bones’s sire, Ian, grinned at the prospect. Gorgon, Mencheres’s old friend, just shrugged, and the blond Law Guardian, Veritas, who was as old as Mencheres even though she looked like Barbie doll’s younger sister, only appeared bored by the topic. No one voiced a word of objection.

Eleven vampires and a shapeshifter against whatever Apollyon had at that complex. That might not sound like good odds, but I knew how deadly this bunch was. Also, if we gathered too many vampires together, we ran the risk of Apollyon getting tipped off.

“All right.” I gave everyone a steady, unblinking glance. “Apollyon wants a war? He’s going to get one, but not between our two species. It’ll be between his best and our best.”

Bones met my gaze, dark brown eyes glinting with green.

“We go in an hour,” he stated, the promise of violence caressing each word. “Gives the rest of them time to arrive.”

And all of them being there meant less chance of any ghouls stumbling across the fight and then summoning backup for Apollyon. I smiled at Bones, feeling the mixture of anticipation and purpose that always filled me before a fight.

“I can’t wait to crash the party.”

His answering smile was edged with the same lethal expectancy.

“Neither can I, Kitten.”

The sharp wind made me squint as I stared down at the cemetery Bones flew us over. The majority was only lit up by residual illumination around the perimeter gates, with two exceptions. One was the funeral home. Exterior lights shone on the LASTING PEACE sign out front, emphasizing the somber yet elegant design of the two-story building. The other area that had lights was on the edge of the southern burial plats, bordering against the unplowed acres set aside for future graves. I looked down at the small, illuminated platform, one ghoul standing in between the two portable floodlights, and couldn’t bite back my scoff.

Apollyon didn’t have those lights set up on either side of him so his followers could get a good view of him gesturing emphatically during his rhetoric about how Cain was really a ghoul and vampires originally derived from flesh-eaters instead of the other way around. Ghouls could see in the dark. How arrogant did Apollyon have to be, to insist on being lit up like a rock star during what was supposed to be a secret undead rally? And was that an Armani suit he had on? In my boringly functional, all-black leotard with multiple weapon holsters, I was clearly underdressed for this shindig.