One Grave at a Time

Thirty-four

 

 

 

“No,” Bones said, as soon as I walked in the door. He wasn’t on the couch anymore but pacing by the entrance, his eyes flashing green.

 

The tiniest smile tugged at my mouth. Guess Bones decided on a preemptive strike. “No what?”

 

“No, you’re not trading yourself for them,” he replied, striding up to me. “I know you too well, and while I loathe the thought of leaving Francine and Lisa to die, if it’s a choice between you or them, it’s you.”

 

I didn’t say anything to that, just went around the house and began to draw the drapes. Bones had his emotions locked behind an iron wall, but from the sizzle of power in the air, he was ready to fight me tooth and nail.

 

That was fine. I didn’t expect anything less from the man I’d fallen in love with. Once all the drapes were closed against any ghostly prying eyes, I grabbed a pen from the kitchen and began writing on the nearest piece of paper I found, which was a grocery receipt.

 

Kramer’s probably listening, keep arguing.

 

His laugh was short and humorless. “No trouble there, luv, because it’s not happening.”

 

“This is so like you to try and tell me what to do,” I said while writing Kramer doesn’t want a trade, he’s daring me to come out and fight him alone tonight.

 

“You think I’d let you anywhere near that ghost when he’ll have the flesh he needs for his stated intention of raping you, then burning you alive?” He snorted. “Even if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t allow that to happen.”

 

I didn’t have more room on the grocery receipt, so I found a paperback book someone had left on the island in the kitchen and tore off a few of the emptier beginning and end pages.

 

With me, his flesh will be his weakness, not his strength.

 

“I can take care of myself,” I said loudly, just like Kramer would expect me to. “And you don’t get to order me around.”

 

“Are you so foolish you’d rather die than listen to reason?”

 

Anger and frustration flowed around me from his aura, but though his words were cold, he read the page I handed to him. If he truly meant what he said, he wouldn’t bother.

 

Go to Elisabeth’s apartment. Tell her Sarah will meet me at the entrance of Grandview Park in Sioux City at dusk. She can follow us from there, then tell you where Kramer and I will be. I’ll hold him off long enough for you to get there. Then we’ll take him to the trap. Same plan as before, only I’ll lead you to him instead of the women leading him to us.

 

Kramer thought I’d fall victim to my pride and thus agree to facing him alone, but with two other innocent lives at risk, I wanted backup. He wouldn’t fight fair, and I had no intention of being the only one playing by the rules.

 

“There’s too much risk, which you’d see if you weren’t blinded by your own arrogance,” Bones said harshly.

 

I didn’t know if that was him acting or me failing to make a dent in my arguments, so I wrote my answer to the accusation.

 

Kramer didn’t follow Elisabeth to Spade’s. He followed my signal and found us. She’s an expert at evading him. This will work.

 

Out loud I said, “Arrogant? You should talk since you seem to think you can make all my decisions for me! I’m not a child, Bones. You can’t tell me what to do and just expect to be obeyed.”

 

I had to let you go out alone when you were challenged to a duel, I wrote, staring at him once I was finished. It was harder than hell, but I did it.

 

He muttered a curse while running his hand through his hair. “That’s not the same.”

 

My pen flashed across the page. Yes it is, and just like Gregor wouldn’t have stopped if you refused his challenge, Kramer won’t stop either. He never wavers once he picks a target, and no one can hide from the dead forever! What if he attacks me while I’m in a fight with another vampire? I’m in more danger if I DON’T go.

 

“This isn’t the first time I’ve faced death, and I don’t intend for it to be the last,” I said, repeating the same words he’d told me before fighting in that fateful duel. “I’ve chosen to live a dangerous life, but it’s who I am, and that wouldn’t change even if we’d never met.”

 

The barest smile touched his mouth though his aura spiked with dangerous pulses of emotion-driven energy.

 

“Low blow, Kitten.”

 

I held his gaze with a faint smile of my own. “Someone once taught me to take every cheap shot and every low blow in a fight.”

 

His stare was so intense that I half wondered if he could somehow see into my mind. That would be helpful. Then he’d know this wasn’t my pride talking. It was my experience. I wasn’t like all the other women Kramer had singled out over the centuries. No archaic system of law was against me, I wasn’t abandoned by friends and family, and I might be flesh and blood, but I wasn’t human. Just like the Inquisitor hadn’t been human for a long, long time. With me, Kramer would finally be picking on someone his own size.

 

Kramer had only seen me run before. He’d never seen me stand my ground and fight. Tonight, I’d show him why the undead world referred to me as the Red Reaper.

 

Bones suddenly grabbed me, his mouth slamming over mine in a kiss so fierce I tasted blood when he lifted his head. But that didn’t bother me. I licked the blood off my lips with a hunger that matched the fire in his gaze, wanting to throw him to the floor and take him with enough roughness to leave cracks in the wood. I love you, I mouthed, pulling his head down for another blisteringly violent kiss.

 

He pushed my mouth down to his neck, almost forcing my fangs into his skin with the way he ground against me. I took him up on the silent demand and bit, drinking deeply when his blood came, not moaning out of bliss because I didn’t know how closely Kramer might be listening. His hands ran over me in a forceful, possessive caress while I drank, absorbing strength as well as nourishment from that heady liquid. When the crimson flow slowed to a trickle despite my suction and Bones willing it out to me, I stopped, licking his neck free of any lingering traces. I felt heavy and full, my senses buzzing from the excess of my feast. I normally drank about half that much when I fed from him, but I knew why he wanted me to drain him. He could refill, but once he was gone, I couldn’t.

 

He cupped my face when I drew back, staring into my eyes while he dropped his shields and let his aura flood over me, twining into my emotions until I couldn’t tell where my feelings ended and his began. From the frustration, love, lust, and worry pouring off him, I guessed that he wanted to make love to me until neither of us could think . . . and then tie me up and pile heavy boulders on me until after the sun rose. The intensity in all those feelings told me that the absolute last thing he wanted to do was what he did next.

 

“I won’t stand here and listen to any more of your ridiculous notions,” he said, nothing but coldness in his tone. “You want to throw your life away? Fine, but you’ll do it without me. I’m finished with you.”

 

If I wasn’t tied so deeply into his emotions, hearing it would have crushed me. But I smiled, squeezing his hands and feeling my heart overflow. He squeezed back before bringing them to his lips and brushing a soundless, fervent kiss onto them.

 

Then he let go, turned around, and walked out, slamming the back door behind him.

 

Ian came into the house right after Bones stormed out. Kramer must not have been the only one outside listening. He looked at me, raised a brow, then picked up one of the pages with my hastily scribbled words and read it.

 

“Since you and Crispin are now finished and I have a few hours to kill, how about that shag?” he asked with heavy irony.

 

“Bite me,” I sighed, gathering up the pages.

 

He winked. “Of course. My second-favorite thing to do in bed.”

 

I didn’t reply to that because I knew Ian wasn’t serious. He’d read enough to realize our breakup was staged, but trust Ian not to miss a chance to be a jackass. Spade came down the staircase next. His wary expression as he looked at me said he wasn’t aware that what he’d overheard was faked. He’d witnessed a real breakup between me and Bones before and had to talk sense into both of us later, so he was probably thinking, Bugger, not this again.

 

I handed him the pages and gave him a thumbs-up sign. After a few brief moments, his frown cleared, replaced by lethal intentness as he looked up at me. Then he took the pen and wrote three words in the space left on the page.

 

I’m going, too.

 

I didn’t say anything. After what Sarah had done to Denise, not a single argument I made, verbally or otherwise, would talk him out of that.

 

 

 

 

 

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