Crimson Death (32 page)

“It sounds pretty,” I said, “but its meaning isn't.”

Damian looked up at me. “It is the highest compliment for a warrior among my people.”

“And an insult depending on how it was used.”

“How do you know that,
ma petite
?”

“I'm not sure, but I know I'm right.”

“Is she right, Viking?” Jean-Claude asked.

“We used to say of a great leader that the eagles must have cried out on the day he was born, for they knew he would feed them many corpses. The wolves must have howled with joy when you were born, because they knew you would feed them well.”

“So wolf-kissed and beloved by eagles is a way of saying that Anita is a great leader and kills a lot of people?” Nathaniel asked.

“It is a great compliment,” Damian said.

I smiled, almost laughed. “I guess I do rack up the body count.”

“The vampires have given you two honor names, Anita. No other vampire hunter has ever been given two names by us.”

“I've been the Executioner for a long time.”

“But your other nickname among us is fresher,
ma petite
.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“War,” he said.

“And Edward is Death,” Nathaniel said.

“You are traveling to Ireland with two of the horsemen of the apocalypse,” Jean-Claude said.

“Kaazim talked about the fact that there should be a plural for
apocalypse
, because the Harlequin have stopped so many of them,” I said.

“To that, I cannot speak, but I know that you are sharing more memories with Damian, because you understood his compliments before he explained them.”

“We are a triumvirate,” I said.

“I think you are one, at long last in more than just name and metaphysics.”

“What if Nathaniel rolls us again?” I asked.

“I think now that he knows he can, he will work harder not to bespell you. Won't you,
mon minou
?”

“I didn't mean to do it this time.”

Damian said, “That's it. That's what you've done to me. You've bespelled me,” and he wasn't looking at me or Jean-Claude when he said it.

N
ATHANIEL AND
I
were in our bedroom packing when Bobby Lee knocked at the door and asked to come in. He came to stand in the center of the room and was uneasy. That was the only word I had for it. It wasn't like him.

I turned and looked at him. “What's wrong?”

Nathaniel turned with the neatly folded clothes in his hands. I heard him sniff the air, and I was betting Bobby Lee smelled like anxiety. It had a scent, or so I was told by all my wereanimal friends.

“I can't go with you to Ireland.”

“I'm sorry for that. Edward requested you specifically,” I said.

“None of the wererats can go with you.”

“Excuse me. Repeat that, because I could not have heard you right.”

Bobby Lee sighed, then said, “Rafael says that you had an agreement that if you tested positive for rat lycanthropy, he would be your beast half.”

“Yeah. So what?”

“You just tested positive last week. You and he haven't had time to formalize it.”

“We'll worry about that when I come back from Ireland.”

Bobby Lee shook his head. He took off his wire-frame glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose like he was tired. His eyes without the glasses showed the tired more. “In an emergency you reach out to
anyone close to you, Anita. You've tied more animals to call to you accidentally than on purpose, right?”

“I guess.”

He put his glasses back on and looked at Nathaniel. “Help me out here.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “I'm going with Anita to Ireland. You've just told us that some of our best people can't come with us. Since you're potentially endangering both of us, why should I want to help you?”

“There are good people for this job who aren't rats,” Bobby Lee said.

“Like who?” I asked.

“Nicky for one.”

“Nicky was going with us anyway. Name someone else.”

“Wait,” Nathaniel said. “Why can't the wererats go with us?”

“Can we all agree that Anita has tied more of her animal halves to her through metaphysical emergencies than on purpose?” he asked.

Nathaniel and I exchanged a look, and finally we both shrugged. “Sure, I concede that.”

“Okay, then, Rafael says that we can't travel with you just in case you accidentally turn to one of us. He is our king and it's either him as your rat, or no one.”

“I've been carrying hyena lycanthropy for months now and I haven't accidentally made one of them my beastie. I'm even taking Socrates with me and Narcissus is cool with it.”

“You've already made it clear to Narcissus that he has no chance of being your hyena half. You could do worse than Socrates.”

“I'll be sure and tell him you said that.”

“Anita, please, this is an order from my king. I can't disobey it, or him.” He clenched his jaw and looked like he might even be grinding his teeth.

“Fine. Besides Nicky, who else do you trust to replace you?”

“Kaazim and Jake are going,” he said.

“That's a good start,” I said.

“You need guards who can double as food, and none of us qualifies since Rafael dictated that he's the only wererat you feed on.”

“I'm aware of that, which is why Fortune and Echo are going, along with Magda and her master, Giacomo.”

“And you're taking Damian and Nathaniel,” he said.

“Yes, but we're not going as just food,” Nathaniel said.

Bobby Lee looked surprised, before he could stop himself. He went back to a neutral expression, but the damage was done. “I know you're one of Anita's fiancés.”

Nathaniel's energy whispered across my skin like a warm wind.

Bobby Lee must have felt it, too, because he said, “I know you're one of Anita's fiancés, and that makes you more than just food.”

The wind felt hotter, more summer than spring, as Nathaniel said, “I'm Anita's leopard to call, and part of her triumvirate of power.”

“I know that,” Bobby Lee said.

“Do you?” Nathaniel said, and his power didn't just bleed over onto me and whisper sweet nothings to my inner leopard. It spilled out into the room in a way that I'd never felt his power do before; it was closer to how Richard's energy worked when he was upset.

Bobby Lee's hands clenched. I watched the tension in his shoulders and arms as he fought to relax.

Nathaniel's power swirled through the room deeper, warmer, hot and aimed not at me but the wererat. He wasn't attacking him, but he was letting him know to be careful. It was a type of metaphysical posturing, and totally not how Nathaniel usually acted around anyone, let alone Bobby Lee.

The wererat took a deep breath and let it out slow. He was still fighting the tension in his own body, because a display like what Nathaniel was doing could be a precursor to a fight. It was certainly a metaphysical slap in the face to a wereanimal as dominant as Bobby Lee.

I said, “Nathaniel, I don't know what you're trying to prove, but . . .”

“No, Anita, he doesn't get to dismiss me like that.”

“Be careful, Nathaniel. You don't want a new power level to make you forget,” Bobby Lee said.

“Forget what?” Nathaniel said, and his voice held a purring edge to it.

“That I'm dominant to you, and I teach some of the fight classes you take.”

Nathaniel's power flexed; that was the only word I had for the sensation of the heat expanding and contracting as if the energy were trying to wrap around us.

I looked at my calm boy, the one who never made trouble like this. “Don't do this,” I said.

“This is your last warning. I don't care if you are Anita's fiancé.”

“I don't want to fight, Bobby Lee, but I'm beyond tired of everyone discounting me and Damian.”

“You don't want to fight? Ya coulda fooled me,” Bobby Lee said.

“I'm going to have to second that,” I said.

“I've tried just being nice, but that doesn't get you respected by people like him.”

“People like me? What's that supposed to mean?” Bobby Lee asked.

“The big athletic guys who have been big and athletic for most of their lives. The ones who played sports. The natural athletes. Military. Police. All the guy-guys. I can't win points with any of you for cooking, cleaning, because that's wimmin's work.”

I was staring at Nathaniel as if I'd never seen him before, and I hadn't seen this side of him. I knew that guy-guys confused him and he'd never fit into their world, but this level of bitterness was a surprise to me.

“You're a dancer. That's athletic,” Bobby Lee said.

“But it's not football, is it?” Nathaniel shook his head, his power so thick in the room now it was hard to breathe past it. It wasn't calling my inner beasts like most of the wereanimals did when they started doing shit like this; it was almost more like warm vampire power than wereanimal energy. It was too warm, too alive, to be vampire, but it just felt like power. The kind that vamps threw around to impress or attack each other, and to torment the lesser beings.

“Back down, Nathaniel,” I demanded.

“Him first.”

“If you hadn't noticed, Bobby Lee is doing his best not to throw more energy onto this little fire. His control is admirable, which is more than I can say for yours.”

“You heard him, Anita. He doesn't count our triumvirate as important.”

“Until right now, only Anita had gained power, and she's gotten the respect that deserved.”

“And now?” Nathaniel asked, his voice purring along my skin as if his breath had touched me for real. It made me shiver and have to catch my breath. It was something Jean-Claude would do, but not Nathaniel.

“What are you trying to prove, Nathaniel?” I asked, rubbing my hands along my arms.

“Now you're proving that the only reason you've been nice up to now is that you didn't have enough power to be mean,” Bobby Lee said.

The power from Nathaniel faltered as if magic could trip over its own feet.

The door opened without a knock. It was Damian. “What are you doing in here?”

It was while Nathaniel and I looked at the door that Bobby Lee proved that he was as fast as Nicky had been in practice. He went from standing still to being up against Nathaniel with a naked blade against his neck.

We all froze, because any movement could make things worse, so best to think carefully before you act. Honestly, I froze because it was just so damned unexpected that I didn't know what to do. Bobby Lee wasn't a bad guy. He wasn't even one of the guards who were a pain in my ass. Until this moment I'd have trusted him damn near implicitly.

His voice came low and careful. “Power is like strength. It means nothing if you don't know what to do with it.”

“You've made your point, Bobby Lee,” I said.

Damian started walking farther into the room.

“Have I made my point, Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel spoke carefully with the blade against his neck. “Powers down.”

“You powered down because I startled you, not on purpose. It takes time to learn how to use magic, just like muscles.” He started to ease the knife back from Nathaniel, then pushed it in tighter.

“Bobby Lee,” I said.

“Tell your other man to back off.”

I looked at Damian, and he was behind the wererat with a blade in his hand. I'd never seen Damian carry a knife; a sword, but not a knife. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Defending us.”

“I'm not the enemy,” Bobby Lee said.

“You have a knife at my friend's neck.”

“I'm teaching a lesson.”

“What lesson?” Damian asked.

“The next person he throws that kind of power at won't be teaching, or playing; they'll just kill him.”

“We get it; now everyone back down,” I said.

“Tell your vampire to back off first.”

“Damian.”

“Tell him to take the blade away from Nathaniel's neck.”

“Bobby Lee.”

“He backs up first.”

“Damian, put the knife up,” I ordered. He should have just done what I said, but for the first time ever he didn't. What the hell was happening? I tried again. “Damian, put up your knife, now!”

“I don't seem to have to.” He sounded puzzled, as if he wasn't sure what to do with the fact.

The door opened; I had a glimpse of black-and-white curls and knew it was Domino. He held his hands up to show that he meant no harm. His voice sounded more than just regular normal—it was that false cheerful voice you use when trying to de-escalate, rather than push things further. “Who's throwing all the magic around?” he asked.

“Nathaniel,” I said.

He didn't look surprised, just took it in stride. “What's up, Bobby Lee?”

“Nothing much. You?” His voice sounded perfectly ordinary, as if he weren't holding a blade to the neck of someone he was supposed to be protecting.

“You know that Nathaniel wouldn't really hurt you. He's just a little drunk on the new magic,” Domino said.

“He doesn't know how to use it as an offensive weapon yet.”

“Then why are you holding a knife to him?”

“To prove to him that power won't keep him safe from a trained attacker.”

“I think you've made your point,” Domino said; he was walking farther into the room as he talked. He was close enough now that I could see his guns clearly against the black-on-black clothing. Some of the guards carried knives; he didn't like blades, but I knew he had a collapsible baton, an ASP, on him somewhere. I could see his fire-colored eyes; of all the clan tigers, the black and red had the most inhuman-looking eyes. He was part black tiger and his eyes and black curls showed that. The white tiger part of his mixed heritage only showed in the few white curls scattered through the black.

“Now I'm doing it because his friend's behind me with a knife.”

“Damian, would you really stab him?” Domino asked.

“If he hurts Nathaniel, yes.”

“Are you really going to hurt Nathaniel, Bobby Lee?”

“I guess not.”

“Then everyone put their knives up,” Domino said.

“Yeah, what he said,” I said, because I had no idea how things had gotten so out of hand. Normally I'd have picked someone to take out and de-escalate without needing help, but it was Nathaniel and Bobby Lee. One I didn't want to hurt, and the other one I didn't want to throw down on, because I wasn't sure I'd win. They were usually two of my most dependable and reasonable people. Damian was usually reasonable, too, and usually had to obey any direct order I gave him. What the hell was wrong with all of them?

“If Damian puts his knife up, I'll be happy to,” Bobby Lee said.

Domino was standing nearly beside the vampire as he said, “How about it, Damian?”

He stared down at the knife in his hand, as if he'd just seen it. “I don't know why I did that.”

Nathaniel's voice was very careful, and suddenly I could feel the press of the blade against his throat as if it were mine. “I think it was my fault.”

“First, Damian puts his knife away, and then Bobby Lee is going to take the knife away from Nathaniel's throat, and then we're going to
talk about what just happened and try to figure out why,” I said; my voice wasn't as steady as Domino's, but it was clear and understandable.

“I don't have to obey you anymore,” Damian said, and he sounded almost befuddled, not himself.

“I'm not telling you as your master vampire. I'm telling you to put the knife up as your queen, your boss, or your boss's wife. I don't care, but I know that I have more authority in this room than anybody else, and we are not going to be this stupid. Put the fucking knife up, now!” My anger came fresh and hot and my beasts coiled around it as if they were warming their hands on it. They threw little bits of their own frustration, trying to make it blaze higher.
Trapped. We're trapped. We need out. How dare they threaten our mate? How dare they threaten us? How dare they . . .