Shadow Rites - Page 77/117

A bat flitted down between the crypts, did a little ungraceful, unballetic pirouette and flew back out. If I had felt a little more alive, I might have laughed again. Instead I let the Gray Between go, rolled to the side, and vomited. More blood fell from the spots in my neck, and this time when I put my fingers there, I felt small slits, the kind that fangs might leave if vamp blood didn’t constrict the pierced blood vessels and close off bite wounds.

I pulled my cell, which was working again, and called Leo. His new secretary answered and I said, “Hey, Scrappy. Tell Leo to send help to the Lafayette Cemetery Number One. My new primo has been staked and I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out.” She tried to say something, but I interrupted, gave the mausoleum family name, and ended the call. Then I reached again for my powers and Beast shoved through me in a blinding rage. It was a tearing, stabbing, slicing, flesh-being-flayed-from-my-bones shift. I rolled away from the vampire, hearing my own rough scream in the night. And I was gone.

* * *

Claws tore through Jane clothes. Pushed out of Jane shoes. Pawpawpaw to darker shadow. Gathered paws beneath body, tight. Curled tail around body. Panting for breath. Heart racing away from big predator Beast could not see.

Beast was safe in space between human-dead-places. But felt wrong. Cold. Hungered.

Looked at vampire. Edmund. Was dead. Did not breathe. Heart did not beat.

Beast stretched out neck and sniffed vampire. Blood smelled fresh. Meat smelled good. But cold. Like meat from white box refrigerator. Sniffed again, lips pulled back to show killing teeth. Sucking in air over tongue and scent sacs in roof of mouth. Scree of sound. What Jane called flehmen response. Smells rushed in. Mouth watered. Smelled good.

Was hungry.

But . . . was wrong to eat Edmund.

But Edmund was dead. Was good to eat dead. But not all dead. Jane would be mad if Beast ate Edmund. But Beast was cold. Felt wrong. Breath did not feel right. Heart did not feel right. Coldcoldcold. Heart rushing like rabbit into hole, with Beast chasing after.

Looked up at sky. Did not know what to do.

Bat flew into small space, chasing small biting things, too small to eat. Mosquitoes. Hate mosquitoes. Edmund smelled good to eat.

Pawed closer to Edmund body. Sniffed in small bursts of breath. Smelled so good. Could . . . just taste . . .

Thought about taste. About taste of vampire blood. Jane ate vampire blood. Made her well when she was sick. Made her strong when she was weak. Beast should be able to taste vampire blood too. But not eat meat. Thought about tasting and not eating. Was human way to think. Was hard to think human. Thoughts of right and wrong for humans. For Jane, though Jane was not human. Was confusing.

Pawed closer, until Beast side touched vampire side. Cold meat vampire. Cold Beast body. Stretched out neck and sniffed blood. Goodgoodgood blood. Cold, strong blood could fix cold Beast. Touched edge of lips to blood. And licked. Blood so good. Licked and licked. Licked all blood from wound. Tongue found tip of stake. Stopped. Thinking again. Wood in vampire blood stopped vampire from being . . . alive. Undead. But wood did not kill old vampires, only young vampires. Old vampires could live if wood came out.

Thought. Licked wound, pressing deep with tongue, until all blood was gone. Stake was still there. Rose on haunches and pressed jaw to Edmund belly. Gripped stake in killing teeth. Pulled stake. Dead flesh made sucking sound, as if trying to hold stake. Stake came free and Beast backed away, teeth in wood. Stake had Edmund blood on it. Good blood. Sat and held bloody stake in paws, licked. Was good. Beast shivered and was no longer cold. Licked all blood off stake.

Looked up at new smell of vampires. Shadows walked and stopped at opening between human-dead-place-buildings. Knew shadows of vampires. Snarled. My stake!

“Allors,” Leo said. “Jusqu’à present. Je ne le crois pas.”

“Is that a stake?” Grégoire asked, pointing killing claw, what Jane called sword, at Beast.

Beast snarled again and let stake fall. But did not attack vampires. Felt good. Felt warm.

“Indeed it is,” Leo said. “Was she eating him?”

Grégoire waved tip of sword at Beast and walked nearer.

Beast showed killing teeth. Growled. But vampire was not afraid. Laughed at Beast. Was bigger predator. Pressed Beast belly to ground. Beast backed slowly into darkness. Stayed down, smelling blood. Was blood on paws and pelt. When vampires did not follow, Beast stopped. Groomed paws with tongue. Was good blood. Beast felt warmer and warmer.

Watched as small, paler vampire knelt at side of Edmund, dead vampire. Deader vampire. Beast chuffed with amusement. Deader vampire.

“This shall be an interesting story, no doubt,” said Grégoire.

Beast chuffed again. Felt good. Liked good vampire blood. Wanted more.

“We need to feed him, my friend.”

“His master should feed him.”

“His master is a puma.” Grégoire made sound like laughter. “I fear she is more inclined to eat him than to save him.”

Good vampire blood. Dead vampire meat.

Jane came awake inside Beast, beta to Beast’s alpha. Holy crap, Jane thought. Are you . . . drunk?

Am warm. Can eat vampire meat?

No!

Snarled. Jane is not good to Beast. Will not let Beast hunt cow in Edmund car. Will not let Beast eat Edmund.

What? Never mind. Back away.

Beast snorted in disgust. Backed deep into darker shadows.

“Merci, Jane,” Leo said.

Not Jane. Beast. Like vampire blood. Made Beast warm.

You were cold?