Chapter Thirty--three
I hung up half an hour later, blowing out a sigh. Timmie had taken the information about Nadia well enough, albeit needing to be talked out of seeing her in person so he’d know she was all right. I negotiated it down to a phone call. Timmie had no idea how strong vampire territorialism was. If he showed up reeking of lust and unrequited love for Nadia around the admittedly “old school” Debra, he’d be lucky to walk away without a permanent limp, if he walked away at all.
“ . . . saw them myself several years ago, though Marie only used them to threaten me instead of having them attack me,” Bones was saying.
That perked my ears up. I’d gone in my room and shut the door so my conversation wasn’t distracting to everyone below. Talking Timmie out of doing something dangerously dumb had tuned me out to what they were saying, too. Had the conversation turned to Remnants? Bones never told me he’d seen them before, let alone that Marie had threatened him with them.
I hurried downstairs just as he finished with, “Who’s to say she doesn’t use them often, and most people don’t live long enough to tell the tale?”
“I imagine it takes quite a lot out of her to raise and control them, which would preclude Marie from making Remnants her most common weapon,” Mencheres stated before raising an inquiring brow at me. “You were very tired afterward, as I recall.”
I sat next to Bones with an affirmative grunt. “At least Marie was right and their effect wasn’t as overwhelming as it was the first time.”
I’d still felt tired and cold everywhere for a few hours after raising them with Vlad, but I was able to keep control of myself the whole time. Nothing like when I first drank Marie’s blood and then went nuts for two days.
Bones turned to stare at me. “The first time? You raised them again?”
Oh crap. With everything that happened, I hadn’t had a chance to tell Bones what I’d done in the graveyard that night with Vlad. Now he thought I’d been hiding it from him.
“I did a trial run of raising Remnants a little over a week ago,” I said, raising my hand at the whiplash of disbelief I felt across my subconscious. “Before you get pissed, I didn’t deliberately go behind your back. It just happened. And no, I didn’t have a case of the sluts again.”
“And you neglected to mention this to me why?” he asked, a hint of anger brushing my senses.
“Because the next time I saw you was when Don died,” I replied steadily. “And it hadn’t been the sort of thing I’d wanted to casually mention to you over the phone before that.”
Bones let out a breath in a slow hiss, that anger ebbing to something milder, like disapproval.
“You knew about this?” he asked Mencheres.
An oblique shrug. “Afterward.”
I concealed my snort with the utmost difficulty. Sure, he’d had it confirmed afterward, but Mencheres knew damn well beforehand what Vlad and I would do, as he’d admitted once we got back. Still, Bones wouldn’t be able to pick up the slightest hint of subterfuge in Mencheres’s bland charcoal gaze. Note to self: He tap-dances around giving a straight answer with impressive skill.
“All right,” Bones said at last, sounding resigned but no longer mad or disapproving. “Well, what was it like this time, Kitten?”
“Still very freaky,” I admitted with a shudder. “It took some trial and error, but we found out they’re summoned and controlled by blood. After I sent them back, I felt tired, freezing, and hungry—for food,” I added with a pointed glance at Mencheres, who merely blinked in an innocent way. “Still, nothing as bad as the first time.”
Even though I didn’t want the memory to come, it did anyway. Cold all through me. Such incredible hunger. The smash of voices in my mind, intertwining into a roar of white noise . . .
Except for one voice, oddly enough. It tugged at the edge of my memory, honey-coated and Southern Creole, dancing amidst the chaos that night when I’d first been exposed to the true depths of Marie’s hold over the dead. That’s right, Marie had asked me a question I hadn’t registered at the time because I’d felt like I was suffocating underneath the power I’d absorbed from her. Now, however, her question was as clear as though she were whispering in my ear this very moment.
Haven’t you ever wondered how Gregor escaped Mencheres’s prison?
Such an odd thing for her to ask. Mencheres snatched me away from Gregor, erasing the entire time from my mind and locking Gregor up as punishment. Yet somehow, Gregor had escaped a dozen years later and came after me, claiming I was his wife, not Bones’s. At the time, finding out how Gregor had gotten out hadn’t been first on anyone’s list of priorities. Not with the trouble Gregor caused on the loose.
To be honest, I hadn’t thought about Gregor much since I blew his head off with the pyrokinesis power I’d temporarily absorbed from Vlad. Why, of all things, would Marie ask me if I knew how Gregor got out? She knew I didn’t know how he’d slipped Mencheres’s prison. No one knew, not even Mencheres. Plus, that was the last thing I’d care about, being crazed from the connection to the dead that I’d absorbed from her . . .
“Holy shit!” I burst out, shooting upward so fast that the couch flipped over from my momentum.
Bones was on his feet, gaze darting around and a knife already in his grip. I waved that away with an almost feverish swipe of my hand, stomping over hard enough that I should have left dents in the floor.
“Gregor.” I seized Bones by the shoulders, barely noticing that his eyebrows shot up at that name. “He escaped from Mencheres’s prison, something no one should’ve been able to do with how smart and powerful granddaddy pharaoh is, right? But Gregor got away, leaving no sign how he did it. Don’t you see? We thought he must’ve hatched a clever getaway plan himself, but the fucker didn’t do a thing!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mencheres and Kira exchange a concerned glance with Bones.
“Kitten,” he said, in the same tone I’d heard Bones use on trauma victims when he thought they were only a harsh syllable away from a complete mental breakdown. “You’re upset over everything that’s happened recently. It’s natural to fixate on something from the past when the present feels overwhelming—”
That made me laugh with a maniacal sort of amusement, causing his brow to furrow even more.
“Luv, perhaps—” he tried again.
“No one can hide from death,” I cut him off, deep satisfaction filling me as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Marie said that, but I hadn’t pondered it as promised. For the past several days, I’d been too numb with grief to think about anything but losing Don. Before that, I was busy chasing my tail trying to find leads on Apollyon, plus also trying to mute my new connection with ghosts—and still being so pissed at Marie for what she’d done.
No one, not even our kind, she’d stressed. Death travels the world and passes through even the thickest walls we protect ourselves with . . . When you truly understand what it means, you’ll know how to defeat Apollyon . . . God, she’d given me all the pieces. I just hadn’t put them together.
“Marie said that before she sicced those Remnants on you and blackmailed me into drinking her blood,” I went on, my voice rising. “I thought she was just threatening me in a cryptic way—you know how she loves to be all freaky and mysterious—but she was trying to help us.”
Gregor hadn’t gotten himself out of Mencheres’s prison. Marie had found him by using the one thing that no one could hide from: ghosts. She probably used Remnants to break him out; not even Mencheres’s guards could have protected themselves against those. Marie might have hated Gregor, but her loyalty wouldn’t allow her to abandon her sire.
It fit with her ruthless practicality as well. Marie had wanted to be free from Gregor. That wouldn’t happen as long as he was imprisoned, and Marie had admitted she knew why Mencheres locked him up. So with letting Gregor out—and him coming straight for me—Marie knew Bones would try to kill him. He hadn’t, but I’d done it, accomplishing her objective for her, all without her being in direct violation of her oath to her sire.
The devil’s in the details, I’d told that ghoul at the drive-in. Yes it was, and the clever voodoo queen appeared to be a master at details. The same loyalty that wouldn’t let Marie kill Gregor herself also wouldn’t let her ally herself against her fellow ghouls in a brewing war, but yet again, Marie had found a way around that. She’d forced me to drink her blood, giving me the same power she had. Helping us against Apollyon in a way that couldn’t be traced back to her, considering how we’d been sure to keep quiet about what occurred between Marie and me in the cemetery.
“God, that woman’s a hell of a lot more devious than I gave her credit for!” I exclaimed.
Bones glanced behind me, with just the barest inclination of his head. I walked away from him, muttering, “Don’t worry. You don’t need to have Mencheres break out the invisible straitjacket again. I haven’t gone crazy. I just didn’t understand until now.”
He still looked like he was debating having Mencheres lay the power whammy on me, so I sat down by Kira in a very deliberate manner, folding my hands in my lap. There. Didn’t I look calm and sane?
“Apollyon is as good as caught,” I said, meeting his concerned brown gaze with a purpose that felt like it radiated through me. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”