"As long as no one opens the drapes." He looked at me for a long moment. "I love you, ma petite, as much as I'm able."
I didn't know what to say. Saying I lusted after him didn't seem appropriate. Saying I loved him would be a lie.
The light grew stronger, a white edge around the curtains. His body slumped back against the bed. He rolled onto his side, one hand outstretched, the other curling the sheets against his chest. He stared at the growing light, and I could taste his fear.
I knelt beside the bed. I almost took his hand but didn't. "What happens now?"
"You want the truth, then watch." I expected his eyes to flutter, his voice to grow sluggish as if he were falling asleep. It didn't happen that way. He closed his eyes all at once. Pain flashed across his face. He whispered, "It hurts." His face went slack. I'd seen people die, watched the light fade from their bodies. Felt their souls slip away. That was what I saw. He died. The light grew against the drapes, and when it was a solid white line, he died. His breath went out of him in a long rattle.
I knelt beside the bed and stared. I knew dead when I saw it, and this was it. Shit.
I put my arms on the bed and propped my chin on them. I watched him, waiting for him to breathe, to twitch, something. But there was nothing. I reached out to his one outstretched arm. My fingers hovered above his skin, then I touched him. The skin was still warm, still human, but he did not move. I checked his wrist, and there was no pulse. No blood moved in this body.
Did he know I was here? Did he feel me touching him? I stared at him for what seemed like a long time. So this answered the question. Vampires were dead. Whatever animated them was like my own power, some sort of necromancy. But I knew death when I saw it. It gave necrophilia a whole new slant.
Had I only imagined that I felt the brush of his soul leave his body? Surely vampires had no souls--that was part of the point--but I'd felt something leave. If not a soul, what? If a soul, where did it go for the daylight hours? Who watched all the vampires' souls while they lay dead?
There was a knock at the door, probably the other boys. I stood up, pulling my robe in tight. I was cold, and wasn't sure why. I went to answer the door. The cut on my tongue had almost stopped bleeding.
Chapter 31
I dreamed. In the dream, someone held me in their lap. Smooth dark arms wrapped around me. I looked up into my mother's laughing face. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. I snuggled against her body, and the clean smell of her skin was there. She'd always smelled of Hypnotique bath powder. She bent and kissed me on the lips. I had forgotten the taste of her lipstick, the way she brushed my mouth with her thumb, and laughed because she'd gotten bright red lipstick on my small mouth.
Her thumb came away with something brighter than lipstick. Blood dripped down her thumb. She'd pricked her skin with a safety pin. It was bleeding. She held her thumb out to me and said, "Kiss it, Anita, make it all better."
But there was too much blood. It ran down her hand. I stared up at her laughing face, and blood ran down it like rain. I woke sitting bolt upright on the velvet couch, gasping for breath. I could still taste her lipstick on my mouth, and the smell of Hypnotique bath powder clung to me.
Larry sat up on the love seat, rubbing at his eyes. "What's wrong? Did we get our wake-up call?"
"No, I had a bad dream."
He nodded, stretching, then frowned. "Do you smell perfume?"
I stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"Perfume or powder or something; do you smell it?"
I swallowed and nearly choked on my own pulse. "Yeah. I smell it."
I flung back the extra blanket and threw the lumpy pillow across the room.
Larry swung his legs off the love seat. "What is wrong with you?"
I went to the window and flung the drapes open. The bedroom door was closed, and Jean-Claude was safely inside. Jason was sleeping in there. I stood in the sunlight and let the heat sink into me. I leaned against the warm glass, and only then realized that I was wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and my undies. Oh, well. I stayed in the sunlight for a few minutes, waiting for my pulse to calm down.
"Serephina sent me a dream. The smell is my mother's perfume."
Larry came to stand beside me. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a green t-shirt. His curly red hair stuck up in all directions. His blue eyes squinted when he stepped into the light. "I thought only a vampire that had a connection with you, a hold on you, could invade your dreams."
"That's what I thought," I said.
"How could I smell perfume from your dream?"
I shook my head, forehead against the glass. "I don't know."
"Has she marked you?"
"I don't know."
He touched my shoulder, squeezing. "It'll be alright."
I stepped away from him to pace the room. "It won't be alright, Larry. Serephina invaded my dreams. No one but Jean-Claude has ever done that." I stopped, because that wasn't true. Nikolaos had done it. But that was after she'd bitten me. I shook my head. Either way, it was a very bad sign.
"What are you going to do?"
"Kill her."
"Murder her, you mean."
If Larry's earnest eyes hadn't been staring at me, I'd have said, "You bet." But it's hard to contemplate murder with someone staring at you like you've kicked their favorite puppy.
"I'll try to get a warrant," I said.
"If you can't?"
"If it's her or me, Larry, then it's her. Okay?"
Larry looked at me sadly. "What I did last night was murder. I know that, but I didn't go in planning to kill someone."
"You stay in this business long enough and you will."
He shook his head. "I don't believe that."
"Believe what you want, but it's still the truth. These things are too dangerous to play fair."
"If you really believe that, then how can you date Jean-Claude? How can you let him touch you?"
I shook my head. "I never said I was consistent."
"You can't defend yourself, can you?"
"Defend which one? Killing Serephina or dating Jean-Claude?"
"Either, both. Hell, Anita, if you're one of the bad guys you can't be one of the good guys."
I opened my mouth and closed it. What could I say? "I am one of the good guys, Larry. But I'm not going to be a martyr. If that means breaking the law, so be it."
"Are you going to get a warrant?" His face was very neutral as he asked. He looked older suddenly. Even with his orangey curls sticking up, he looked solemn.
I was watching Larry grow older before my eyes. Not in age, but in experience. The expression in his eyes was older than it had been a few months ago. Seen too much, done too much. He was still trying to be Sir Galahad, but Galahad had had God on his side. All Larry had was me. It wasn't enough.
"The only way I could get a death warrant is to lie," I said.
"I know," he said.
I stared at him. "Serephina hasn't broken any laws, yet. I won't lie about that."
He smiled. "Good. When do we meet Dorcas Bouvier?"
"Three."
"Have you figured out what you can sacrifice to raise the zombies Stirling wants done?" he asked.
"Nope."
He stared at me. "What are you going to tell Stirling?"
I shook my head. "I don't know yet. I wish I knew why he's so hot and heavy to kill Bouvier."
"He wants the land," Larry said.
"Stirling and Company have been saying the Bouvier family, not Magnus Bouvier. That means he's not the only one suing them. So killing Magnus won't solve their problems."
"So why do it?" Larry asked.
"Exactly," I said.
Larry nodded. "We need to talk to Magnus again."
"Preferably without Serephina around," I said.
"Amen to that," Larry said.
"I'd love to talk to Magnus, but before we tackle Mr. Bouvier again, I'd like to find some fairie ointment."
"Some what?"
"Didn't you take any classes on fairies?"
"It was an elective," he said.
"Fairie ointment makes you proof against glamor. Just in case whatever else Magnus is hiding is nastier than Serephina."
"Nothing's nastier than that," he said.
"True, but just in case, he won't be able to work magic on us. In fact, it's not a bad precaution before we meet Dorrie. She may not be as scary as Magnus, but she shines, and I'd just as soon she didn't shine all over us."