“What was it?” No wasted words or questions.
And now I had to find a way around the truth. “It tried to take the shape of a sabertooth cat of some kind. It tried to take Immanuel’s shape. And the shape of a black-haired human. I killed it before it could kill me. I’m guessing Immanuel has been dead for a very long time.” Which was a lot of information, but didn’t answer his question. I hoped he didn’t notice.
“Weeks? Months?” he demanded.
“Years,” I said softly, gently. Knowing I was dumping a lot of bad news on him all at once. “Maybe decades. It was dying, Bruiser.” I tried to find a way of explaining what it was without giving my own dual nature away. “I don’t know how it came to take Immanuel’s place, but I think the melding between vamp genetics and its own wasn’t working, hadn’t been working for a long time. That’s why it needed so much blood and protein. Only massive intakes of blood and tissue kept it looking and smelling like Immanuel.” That’s why it stank so often, I thought.
“In the last weeks it had started needing more, stronger blood. When the blood-master of Clan Arceneau came back to the States, the thing took him prisoner. He was draining him nearly dry. Forcing Grégoire to sign financial papers, using clan monies to buy land for . . . whatever it planned to do. Take over as blood-master of the city, at a guess.” So it could use the city’s vamps for feedings as it wanted? Maybe. . . .
When he said nothing to my observation, I went on. “It imprisoned the rest of Clan Arceneau in silver in their clan home.” I paused. “Tell Leo he needs to find Grégoire and send him to earth. And look for the blood-servants of Clan Arceneau. They’ll need rescuing, if they’re still alive.”
“Was it some kind of were?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” I said. Not lying. Not telling the truth.
“It handled silver?”
I remembered the stench of burning meat when I tracked it at dawn on Aggie’s land. It had taken on some of the vamp characteristics, just as I had taken on some of Beast’s. Black magic. I had done magic as black and foul as the liver-eater. I took a breath and went on. “It could touch silver. It could drink blood. But, though it had a vamp’s reaction to sunlight, it wasn’t a vamp. It was only masquerading as a vamp.”
“I don’t . . . I can’t believe this,” Bruiser said.
“I think if you go into his room, you’ll find some . . . let’s call them fetishes. Leg bones, skulls, big stuff like that, as well as teeth and smaller mementoes, like trinkets from his kills, using the bones to take different forms.” I heard footsteps, sloshing, as if through the blood and goop in the hallway at Leo’s. The tone of the background noise changed, as he entered a smaller room. Then the sounds of things being moved, dropped, shoved. Bruiser was searching a room, with no regard to neatness or care.
“There’s a skull in his room. On the top shelf of the closet.”
“Human?” I asked.
“Yeah. And some . . . looks like femur bones. And other stuff. Not human.”
“The skull is probably Immanuel’s,” I said, even more gently. “Something for Leo to lay to rest.”
George swore, his voice breaking. In the background I heard Leo shout, his voice ringing, full of command and power. “I’ll get back to you if I live through the night,” Bruiser said, echoing my own worries.
“Call the vamp council,” I said. “I can report to them before dawn, before this gets around as something it isn’t. I have to call the cops in too. Tell them what happened.”
“Yeah. Sure.” The phone clicked, the display showing CALL DISCONNECTED.
The next call, to Jodi, went about the same, with a few variations, all of them along the lines of “Why didn’t you call me?” When she interrupted the third time, with the same question, I said, “Jodi, I don’t work for you. I didn’t call you. Get over it.”
She made a little choking sound. “I’m going out to his house,” she said stiffly when she could speak again.
“Leo’s?” I squeaked. “Are you out of your mind? You ever see a vamp lose it? A real honest-to-God vamp rage? As far as he can feel and tell, his son just died. He’s grieving, the way vamps grieve, the way vamps do everything. Think about it. If he’s out of control, and you show up, he’ll rip off your head and drink you dry. George is the only one who might be able to survive the experience. You show up and the balance changes. Stay. Away.”
After a moment, she grunted with agreement. “I don’t like you, Yellowrock.”
“It’s mutual,” I said with a smile in my voice. “I may have to address the vamp council before dawn. Want to come along?”
“Yeah?” She sounded marginally happier. I wondered how many cops had ever seen the members of the vamp council all in one place, let alone ever seen a council in action. “Let me know the details. I’ll be there.”