Faith Hunter - Skinwalker

“Enough,” the priestess said. “I saw the creature when it attacked me. I inhaled its scent. It was not of our blood, and yet it was. I was unable to identify the species of the creature, but it intended to kill me. And now it is dead. The spirit of the contract has been fulfilled. Pay her.”

The table fell silent, that total could-have-been-statues vamp stillness. Seconds ticked by. There were no other objections. Eventually Desmarais opened a thin file on the table in front of him and removed an envelope. He slid it across the table. “Your payment and bonus. Certified check, as per the contract.”

I kept the victory off my face, took the check, folded it over , and slid it into the waistband of my jeans. The priestess said, “Jane Yellowrock, it is hoped you will remain in New Orleans for a time.” My mouth opened in surprise and I halted in mid-money-stuff.

Rousseau took over the invitation. “Perhaps for several weeks, until Katherine is recovered and returned to us. We have an additional problem that needs your”—she paused, as if picking her words carefully—“your talents.”

Ungraciously, Desmarais said, “Some low-level Mithran is making scions and leaving them at the untender mercies of the human world.”

I remembered the two young vamps killed in the public housing area. To me, it had looked more like the human world had been left at the merciless fangs of untender vamps. I didn’t say it aloud, however. I figured I had pushed the limits of the council’s own untender mercies as far as I could. Besides, I needed another job. Might as well be here. “I’ll consider it.”

“You will be contacted with details and our offer, after the funeral for Pellissier’s heir,” Bettina Rousseau said. She focused on Jodi before I could reply. “You are commended,” she said. “Your subordinate and undercover officer did well. Richard LaFleur was not detected until a blood-servant at the hospital informed us. We will reimburse the city for his medical bills.”

Jodi blanched at hearing her officer outed. I looked at the toes of my boots and hid a grin. Vamps were sneak attackers.

Desmarais took up from Bettina. “In appreciation for his services and yours, we have placed official commendations in your files, and arranged for the psychometer on loan to your department to become your equipment permanently.”

Jodi looked like she would rather chew through shoe leather than accept the compliment or the device from the people outing Rick, but she knew it was a coup, and logic overrode pique. She managed a simple, “Thank you.”

“You are dismissed,” Desmarais said.

At the dismissal, Jodi looked like she wanted to choke, but I just turned and went to the door. A bouncer unlocked and opened it with an ear-popping change of air pressure and a little swish of air. Airtight, soundproofed. If they had wanted to snack on us, no one would ever have known. I went out, my knees releasing the clench I’d held to keep them from knocking. The relieved breath that whooshed out was more noisy than I’d have liked, but Jodi didn’t comment as she followed. Silently, we traipsed through the house to the front door, followed and led by the bouncers, our muscle-bound escorts. We didn’t see Bruiser.

Outside, the air was moist and heavy from the storm. I blinked at the cloudy sky, seeing a sudden overlay of the death of the liver-eater and Antoine. My breath went unsteady. For the first time I let myself react to the fact that it could have been me on Leo’s floor, dead. Or me on the floor of the vamp council, dead. I’d come close to being dead several times tonight. Real close, real dead.

Jodi’s cop shoes followed me to my motorcycle, little clip-taps of sound. “Looks like you’ll be sticking around for a while,” she said to my back. “Give me a call. We can do coffee.”

Hiding my surprise, schooling my face, I picked up my helmet, thinking as I straddled the bike. I faced her, studying her expression, which was a little belligerent, as if she expected to be rebuffed and maybe thought she should be. “You just want to know everything I know about vamps,” I said, giving a half smile to take the edge off.

“Yeah. You got a problem with that?” When I shrugged, she added, “I like you. I’m not asking to do a spa day together or a sleepover or anything. Coffee. Maybe some beignets.”

“That would be nice,” I said, carefully. “My friend Molly may be coming to town. You got anything against earth witches?”

“Nope.” She turned and walked down the curving drive. Over her shoulder she said, “My mother is a witch. So are two of my sisters. Later, Jane Yellowrock. I’ll call.”

I made it back to my freebie house just before dawn, left Bitsa in the yard, her engine pinging, and climbed the steps to the back door. I was so tired my teeth ached with each footfall. As I rattled the key in the lock, all I could think about was the bed. Without turning on the lights, I entered and tossed the keys on the table next to the weapons I’d left piled there. And stopped like I’d been punched.

My crosses were faintly glowing—all of them—not with the brightness of the full moon, but the soft greenish phosphorescence of minerals in a cave, in the deeps of jungle pools, a pale warning of distant danger. My heart tripped and sped. I went still, breathing in, Beast rising in me, sending out her senses, questing. The house felt empty, as if nothing else alive was present. But that didn’t mean I was alone. Too tired to notice when I entered, I now scented anise and papyrus and the peppery taint of vamp on the air. Leo was here. Somewhere.

He didn’t know what I was, didn’t know I could smell him. Or he didn’t care, which was infinitely worse. Beast drew in tight, quivering through my veins and nerves. Predator in my den , she thought, a snarl in the words.

Silently, I picked up two stakes, holding them left-handed, one sharpened end forward, the other pointing back, and pulled two crosses over my head to dangle on their chains. There wasn’t time to better outfit myself for a fight; without my jacket and gear there was nothing to shield me from vamp fangs and talons. Remembering Katie’s grief, I knew it sometimes took their sanity away. It wasn’t enough to protect me in a hand-to-fang battle against an aged, deadly powerful vamp—even assuming he was still sane.

Lastly, I picked up my favorite vamp-killer, its blade eighteen inches of heavily silvered steel. The blade brought me luck, but I felt nothing when I gripped the elkhorn hilt except my own slick sweat.

I had no doubt that Leo knew exactly where I was; vamps could see in pitch-black dark, better night vision than Beast, and for once Beast didn’t contradict me, just growled low in my mind. I took a steadying breath and spoke to my silent house. “I didn’t kill Immanuel, Leo. What I killed wasn’t your son.” I heard a breath drawn . . . in the living room? Before he could use the air, I stepped to the opening, cursing my booted feet on the wood floor.

“I saw him,” Leo said, his voice gravelly, as if his vocal cords had been damaged by a knife wound . . . or screaming. “I saw his face.” He took a breath; it sounded wet, torn, and came from a different spot—the bedroom doorway. Beast quivered, knowing we were stalked. My skin rose to tight, icy peaks. The crosses around my neck brightened with his nearness, allowing me to pick out a shadow across the room. A hunched shadow with wide black pupils in bloodred eyes. “You destroyed him,” Leo said, hissing his anguish. “And you will pay the blood debt.”

My throat went dry as stone dust. The urge to run settled into me like claws. “I destroyed a creature, yes, but not a vampire,” I said, with grave politeness, holding on to my runaway fear, praying to keep from being attacked alone, in the dark, by the blood-master of the city. “If the thing masquerading as your son had been a vampire, he would still be alive.”