Jeaniene Frost - Destined for an Early Grave

Spade and I spread the pictures onto a nearby table. The first one was a shot along Bourbon Street. Not very distinct, but yes, it was Bones. He was walking in the middle of the street. Even with the usual throngs of people, he stood out.

Thank God, was my initial thought.

I flipped to the second image. Bones was in front of his house, if I recognized the structure. And there was a woman in his arms.

A low growl escaped me. I flipped to the next page. The third image had me belting out a curse and almost flinging it at Spade.

“Needed some time to himself, huh? Funny how he doesn’t seem to be doing that alone!”

The last image was only a partial of Bones’s face. He was half inside the gate leading to his door. The same tramp was plastered to him, I could tell from her outfit, and his features were blocked because he was kissing her.

“He’s a cheating prick,” Tate said tonelessly. “He hasn’t emerged from his house since that shot, according to the satellite. I don’t need to tell you that soon we’ll have to point it back where it belongs, Cat. Don’s stretching his authority on this one.”

“Mother fucker ,” I spat.

“This doesn’t prove anything,” Spade said, recovering from his astonishment. “We don’t know what’s going on, or who this woman is. She could be a contact and these actions a ruse.”

“Oh, there’s contact, all right.” I wanted to study the photos and destroy them at the same time. “Full frontal, from what I can see!”

“Damn straight,” Tate muttered.

“Quiet,” Spade barked at Tate, easing his pitch when he turned to me. “Crispin wouldn’t betray you that way, no matter how livid he was. There’s an explanation for this. Let Fabian go and find it.”

Underneath my fury, there was also piercing hurt. I wanted to believe that this was all a misunderstanding. And yet deep down inside there was an insinuating, slithering fear. What if it wasn’t?

“Okay.” Forced out while my head started to pound. “Fabian, you get down there and find Bones. Let him explain to you who this chick is. I’ll wait to see what Bones says.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Tate burst. “Didn’t you look at those pictures? What more do you need, live video feed?”

“Sometimes that isn’t right either,” I yelled back. My eyes stung, but I didn’t cry. “I found that out the hard way, and I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

Tate just stared at me with disbelief. Then he said, “You’re a fool,” before walking away in disgust.

“I’ll bring you word,” Fabian promised.

“Please do.” I glanced at the photos again. “No matter what it is.”

JUAN CAME TO PICK FABIAN UP. FROM JUAN’Sfriendly but cautious greeting, I knew he’d seen the pictures.

“How long before he gets there?” I asked Juan when they were about to leave.

He shuffled. “Querida, if I’m specific, it’ll tell you too much.”

“Approximately,” I prodded, hating this necessary secrecy, but Gregor had proved he was still sifting in my dreams. If I somehow fell asleep, damned if I’d give him anything useful.

“Around a day, allowing for contact time and return,” he estimated.

That long? I’d wear holes in the floor pacing.

“Fine.” Years of faking cool when I was an emotional wreck had its advantages. “Take care of my ghost.”

Juan gave a wary glance to his shoulder. Fabian smiled at me, his hand disappearing into Juan’s collarbone.

“Good seeing you, querida ,” Juan said, still giving his shoulder a cagey stare. I waved with a forced smile. Mustn’t look like the worried, jilted wife.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spade rub his temple. Annette was in the doorway, almost leaning on the frame. It had been a long time since any of us had slept.

“Get some sleep, guys. This isn’t a group contest on who can stay awake the longest. Especially you, Spade. You may need to be sharp when we get word, so you don’t have a choice.”

He nodded. “Just a few hours. That should tide me over.”

“If you’re worried that I’ll nod off, don’t. I can safely say there’s enough on my mind to keep me up.”

Spade gave Tate a condemning glare. “For all we know, those images were doctored. His jealousy of Crispin is boundless. It wouldn’t astonish me in the least to have Fabian report back that there was no such woman.”

“Yeah, right,” Tate scoffed. “I wouldn’t do that. Before anything else, I’m Cat’s friend. And if Bones has nothing to hide, then why’s he hiding?”

“Enough, guys.” They were making my head worse.

Spade gave Tate a final glare. “You’ll be proven wrong soon enough. I’ll enjoy informing Crispin about how you needlessly upset Cat in your futile quest to have her, because I think at last he’ll kill you for it.”

Tate squared his shoulders. “I’m upsetting her with the truth because I’ll be damned if I’ll shut up while he runs around behind her back making a fool of her.”

Spade stared at Tate in a way that worried me. He looked like he was fighting not to kill him.

“You’re very lucky Crispin made me swear never to harm you,” Spade settled on. “Else you’d already be missing your head.”

“Sleep tight,” Tate shot back.

“That better be your last word,” I warned Tate. Spade wasn’t all bark and no bite. Didn’t Tate know that?

Spade tensed like all bets were off. I considered tackling him, but then decided on a different tactic.

I swayed with a gasp and put my hand to my head. Spade was at my side in a blink. His chivalrousness went even deeper than his temper.

“What is it, Cat?”

“All this stress and lack of sleep…I feel a little faint.”

With a final threatening glance at Tate, Spade touched my arm. “I’ll get you some water.”

He went inside, and I turned my attention to Tate. “I probably just saved your life,” I said quietly.

Vlad had been watching the whole thing with faint amusement. He’d known I was faking since he would have heard it in my head.

“Young man, one day I suspect you’ll have a terrible accident,” he said to Tate. “Keep provoking people, and it will be one day soon.”

Tate rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know—you’ll kill me something awful. If only I had a dime for every time I heard that.”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be. You should mind your speech so when you do piss someone off past his control, you’ll be strong enough to have a chance at surviving it.”

“Good advice,” I added. “You should listen to him.”

Tate swung his gaze at me. “Fuck, Cat. I’d be jumping at my own shadow if was scared of every threat directed at me. One day I’m gonna die. Everyone will, even our kind. I’ll be damned if I spend what time I have sniveling like a coward, kissing ass so I don’t make people angry. All I’ve got is how I live. How I’ll die? That’s the problem of the guy who kills me.”

“God,” I muttered. He just wouldn’t listen.

Vlad let out a whistle. “I’ve wondered what she saw in you. You seem so pitiful most of the time. At least you have some semblance of courage.”

“You motherfucker—” Tate began.

His feet caught fire. Then his hands. The forward momentum he’d used to charge at Vlad was abruptly changed into an odd stomping dance while Tate tried to douse the flames.

Vlad tutted. “See? Watch your temper.”

“Ahem.” I cleared my throat. “You mind?”

The fire slowly extinguished on Tate. I shook my head. Fabian couldn’t come back fast enough. Who would have thought I’d be so anxious to see a ghost?