Bones closed his eyes. He could save Becca’s life… by taking it. She wouldn’t survive the transition if he tried to turn into a vampire, but he could make her a ghoul. All it required was her drinking some of his blood before she died, and that wouldn’t be long. She was very near death as it was.
He thought of Jelani. Of the ghoul’s admitted pain over trying to live as someone who would always be helpless compared to even the weakest of their kind. And Becca didn’t know there was another world that existed on the fringe of hers. How could Bones condemn her to wake up trapped in that body, changed into something she didn’t even know existed?
A slow sigh came out of him, then he forced himself to smile. His gaze brightened while he harnessed all his energy into making Becca believe everything he was about to tell her.
“It’s all right,” Bones said again, stroking her face. “You’re safe, Becca, and there’s no pain anymore. You’re not injured. You’re not even here. You’re in a beautiful field, flowers all around you. Can you see them, Becca?”
She nodded, her features slipping into relaxed planes that were completely at odds with the ragged stitches around her mouth.
“… you’re warm, and you’re lying on the ground looking up at the sky… look at it, Becca. See how blue it is…”
Her stare became more fixed. Bones leaned forward, his mouth settling on her throat. Her pulse was so faint, he could barely feel it against his lips.
“Sleep now, Becca,” Bones whispered, and bit deeply into her neck.
11
Ralmiel met him at the front of the salon where Becca worked. From there, they had a clear view of the police swarming over the LaLauries’ old house and the bomb unit being called in. Blokes didn’t want to chance that anything else might explode in the place, not that Bones could blame them.
After a few minutes of silence, Bones turned to Ralmiel. “Why did you come there tonight?”
Ralmiel shrugged. “Jelani offered to pay me double the highest bounty on your corpse, if I let you live instead. So I thought to help you kill the scum fouling my city. It was easy to know where you were, mon ami, once the house went boom.”
Bones couldn’t contain his snort. “Mate, I’ve got some bad news for you. Jelani’s skint broke, and Marie hasn’t authorized any of what he’s done the past several days, so don’t expect her to reimburse you, either.”
Ralmiel stared at him. “There’s no money?”
“’Fraid not.”
“He lied to me. I will kill him,” Ralmiel said in outrage, pulling a pouch from his pocket and squeezing it.
Nothing happened. Ralmiel looked down in surprise, then squeezed again. And again.
A slow smile spread across Bones’s face. “Having some difficulty, are you?”
Understanding bloomed on Ralmiel’s face. “You found Georgette,” he murmured.
“Never underestimate your opponent,” Bones replied. “You know you’re not to be trifling with magic, and if anything happens to Georgette for coming to her senses and refusing to participate in your crimes again, I’ll be forced to make them public.”
Ralmiel said nothing for a long moment. Bones waited, wondering if now that Ralmiel knew he wouldn’t be collecting any quid for “letting” Bones live, he’d dare to take him on in a fair fight, without the chance of one of his magic escapes.
Finally, a faint smile creased Ralmiel’s mouth. “Non, mon ami. That time is past. Money is not everything, oui? One day, perhaps, you might assist me.”
Bones inclined his head. “I hope you’re not lying. I rather like you, but if I ever see you on the other side of a silver weapon again, I’ll shrivel you.”
Ralmiel shrugged. “Understood.” Then he nodded at the mass of people in the street. “Thirsty?”
Another snort escaped Bones. Did he want to plunge into that crowd and glut himself on the throats of nameless, countless people who’d never know they’d been bitten by the time he was done with them? No. He wanted to take Becca to his townhouse, clean her body up, and then bury her in his courtyard so no more indignities could be committed upon her.
But he couldn’t do that. Becca’s family had the right to bury her, not him. The best thing Bones could do was leave Becca where she was. The police would do their investigation, tie it into the other murders, and perhaps decide they had a copycat killer who’d taken his obsession with the LaLauries’ dark history too far. Since Delphine and Louis’s bodies, in death, would have regressed back to their true ages, the police might reckon they were old victims unearthed in that hidden room from the bombing. They’d never realize they were looking at the killers themselves.
So, in truth, he had nothing to do but throw himself into the crowd that had no idea of the horrors committed just a block away. Besides, Marie might just try to make this his last Mardi Gras. The scale of her retribution had yet to be determined. Eat and drink, for tomorrow we die, Bones thought sardonically.
He swept out a hand to Ralmiel. “Lead the way, mate.”
12