At Grave's End

That much was true, except it didn’t apply in this case. If Tate ever did try to kill Bones, he’d challenge him to a fair fight. He’d lose, of course, but being underhanded just wasn’t his style.

 

“Mencheres,” I went on, “you said you’d heard of something similar happening to a vampire that happened to Bones? About the withering thing?”

 

Mencheres let his cool appraising eyes meet mine, and in that instant I knew two things. He saw through my apparent lack of distress over Tate, and he also didn’t believe it was him.

 

Weep.

 

The word flashed across my mind like it was spoken in my ear. Mencheres’s steel gaze didn’t waver, and I jerked back in shock even as I complied. It wasn’t hard. I still wasn’t all the way back in control of my emotions.

 

I let some tears fall, big fat drops of duplicity that rolled down my cheeks. Playing weak. Sometimes it was the best offense.

 

“My sire Tenoch had a similar gift,” Mencheres stated. “He could manipulate his body to appear withered in order to convince whoever was around that he was dead. You must have inherited more from me than I realized, Bones, when I shared my power with you. Tenoch took days to recover from its effects; you will be very lucky to have your strength back within a fortnight.”

 

Mencheres rose, all grace and leashed authority. “We will keep the traitor secure. You will need blood and sleep. We will keep the news that you’re alive undisclosed until you are completely healed. Please, take my chamber. It is soundproofed, so you will be less disturbed by the noises of the house.”

 

Bravo! I wanted to clap, but kept my compliment suppressed under a landslide of shields. You devious prick, I might start to like you.

 

To add to the camouflage, I sniffled. “Take me to bed, Bones. I’m very tired.”

 

He lifted himself and me up in the same fluid motion. “Mencheres, if you’ll direct me?”

 

Bones carried me out of the study. When we passed by my mother, who still lingered by the door, Bones stopped to give her an impudent smile.

 

“Thought you were finally rid of me, didn’t you?”

 

She opened her mouth, paused, and then shut it. Then she further surprised me by moving out of the way without having to be shoved aside. For her, that was the equivalent of a gushing welcome.

 

“Filthy animal,” she called out when we were almost out of sight.

 

He snorted in amusement, not slowing his steps. “Nice to see you again, too, Justina.”

 

Mencheres followed us into the large bedchamber with a vague comment about retrieving some of his things.

 

“Just need to get these items before I leave you to your slumber…” he said in a regular voice before shutting the door behind him.

 

“Bones, Cat is correct. It isn’t Tate.”

 

I was surprised Mencheres felt that way, too, but I didn’t question it. “He wouldn’t do this,” I agreed.

 

“Why not?” Bones snarled in low, heated disagreement. “It’s his only chance of ever having you. I know if I were Tate, I’d see me buried if I had to betray everyone around me to do it!”

 

“And you would regret it,” Mencheres said.

 

For a second, I saw pain flash on his face, and wondered if he was thinking of the murder he’d committed all those years ago.

 

“Killing your rival doesn’t guarantee happiness. Sometimes it ruins any chance you have of it instead. Memories of dead men hold far more power than the annoyances of living ones.”

 

I stared at Mencheres. His face was blank again, giving nothing away, but we all knew what he meant.

 

“If I had not shared power with you,” Mencheres went on, “you would have been killed on that train. You must trust me, because someone under this roof is counting on your jealousy to blind you.”

 

Bones paced in short strides. “That would mean one of the people I’ve loved as a brother has plotted against me. It’s only logical that it’s Tate.”

 

“Maybe you’re right.”

 

Bones was so surprised by that, he quit pacing.

 

I came to him, brushing my fingers across his cheekbones. “If you’re right,” I continued, “then the traitor is locked up and can do no more harm. I’ll be grieved that my friend did such a terrible thing, and I’ll kill him. But if you’re wrong…then you have a person here who’s desperate not to get caught. Reeling that you’re alive. Frantic over what you’ll do if you find out who they are. If you’re wrong, we’re all in a heap of shit. So what are you willing to bet that you’re right?”

 

Bones stared at me with a penetrating, hooded gaze.

 

“You know I won’t take the risk. Fine, then. Whoever it is will want to report to Patra posthaste that I’m still alive, and they’ll also likely try to silence Tate before he convinces me of his innocence. We’ll need more than the three of us to stop this.”

 

Mencheres nodded. “In the meantime, let that person feel secure that the blame falls on Tate. We will keep him as he is. Who do you want to include on this?”

 

In other words, who do you trust with everyone’s lives?

 

“Charles, of course. If he’s the rat, I’ll stake myself. Rodney also.”

 

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