Bitter Blood (The Morganville Vampires #13) - Page 17/19

MICHAEL

The anger that had hold of me made me ache allover, especially in my eyeteeth; I'd rarely experienced the urge to bite somebody in pure rage, but damn, I wanted to sink my fangs deep in someone now. Roy Farmer, that little son of a bitch, to start, and then the rest of his murderous little crew.

Eve had looked so broken, lying in that bed. So unlike the bundle of strength and energy I loved. I really hadn't known, deep down, how much she meant to me until I'd seen her like that, and known, really and deeply known, that I could lose her.

Nobody hurt my girl and got away with it.

Shane was angry, too, but-and this was a reversal of our usual roles as friends-he was the cautious one, the one tel ing me to play it smart and not let anger drive the bus. He was right, of course, but right didn't matter so much just now. I wanted blood, and I wanted to taste it and feel the fear spicing it like pepper. I wanted them to know how she'd felt, helpless and terrified and alone.

And yeah, it probably wasn't fair, but I was angry at Claire for leaving her, even for a moment. I knew she'd done the right thing, drawing off the mob, but that had left Eve lying bleeding on a sidewalk. Alone. And I couldn't get that image out of my head. She could have died alone.

I understood how Shane felt when he drove his fist through a wal . Some things, only violence could erase.

"Roy lives over on Col ege Street," Shane said, "but he won't be there. He lives with his parents. He's a punk, but not so much of one that he'd run home to his mommy."

"Where, then?" We were in Eve's hearse, and Shane was driving; I was sitting in the blacked-out back area. Shane had verbally kicked my ass about risking sunburn when I'd wanted to walk; he'd made me stop off and grab a long coat and hat and gloves, too, just in case. "You know the guy, right?"

"Kinda," he said. "Roy's one of those vampire-hunter-wannabe types, came to me a couple of times for pointers on things, and showed me things he was working on as weapons. He hero-worshipped my dad, which tel s you a little bit about how screwed-up he is. I never thought he'd do this, though. Not coming out for Eve, or any of us. Didn't think he'd have the guts."

"It doesn't take guts to kick a girl half to death," I said. Shane said nothing to that, just gave me an uneasy look in the rearview and tightened his grip on the wheel. "Where would he be?"

"Probably at the 'Stro," Shane said. "He has a sick hand-built Cadil ac he likes to show off there. He's probably getting back-slaps from his buddies about how awesome he is."

The Astro was an abandoned old drive-in on the outskirts of Morganville, just barely within its borders; it had a graying movie screen that tilted more toward the desert floor every year, and the pavement had cracked and broken in the sun, letting sage and Joshua bushes push up through the gaps. The concession stand had fal en down a couple of years back, and somebody had touched off a bonfire there for high school graduation.

It went without saying that the place was a favorite of the underage drinking and drugging crew.

Shane drove out there. It was close to twilight now, and sunset had stacked itself in bands of color on the horizon; the leaning timbers of the Astro's screen loomed as the tal est thing around in the flatland, and Shane circled the peeling tin fence until he came to the entrance. The cops made periodic efforts to chain it shut, but that lasted only as long as it took for someone to cut the lock off-and most of those who hung out here had toolboxes built in the beds of their trucks.

Sure enough, the entrance stood gaping, one leaf of it creaking in the fierce, constant wind. Sand rattled the windshield as Shane made the turn, and he slowed down. "Got to watch out for bottles," he said. "The place is land-mined with them."

He was right. My eyes were better in the dark, and I could see the drifts of dark brown bottles, some intact, most broken into shards. The fence line was peppered with shotgun blasts, and I got the feeling that a lot of the empties had been used for target practice. Standard drunken-country-teen behavior; I couldn't say I hadn't done some of that myself, before I'd been forced to adapt to something different.

I didn't miss it, though.

Shane's headlights cut harsh across dusty green sage, the spiked limbs of mesquite pushing up out of the broken pavement, and, in the far corner of the lot, a gleam of metal. Cars, about six of them. Most were pickups, the vehicle of choice out here in Nowhere, Texas, but one was a sharply gleaming Caddy, painted electric blue, with shimmering chrome rims. Shane was right. It was a sick car.

A bunch of kids-about twenty of them-were sitting on the hoods of the vehicles, passing bottles, cigs, pil s, whatever else they had to share.

They watched the slow approach of the hearse with the wary attention of people who might have to run for it at any moment. The only reason they hadn't scurried already was that it wasn't a standard vampire sedan, or a cop car.

Roy Farmer was sitting on the hood of his Caddy with his arm around a plump blond girl. They were both wearing cowboy hats and boots. She must have been cold in her tank top and torn jeans shorts, but from the looks of her, she was too drunk to care. Roy watched as the hearse pulled to a stop, and he took a long pul out of the brown bottle in his hand.

"Mike," Shane said as I reached for the door. "Seriously, man, slow your rol . He wouldn't just be sitting there like this if he didn't have something up his sleeve. He has to know you'd be coming for him. Let me check it first."

I didn't bother to answer. I wasn't letting Shane, or anyone, do this. If Roy had come after Eve, he'd come after me, and I couldn't let him see it any other way. Maybe it was loyalty; maybe it was possessiveness. I don't know; Eve wasn't there to set me straight on the difference. But I knew that it was my job, not Shane's, to make Roy regret it.

Maybe that was part of being married. Or maybe it was just me, discovering for the first time that I really, truly wanted Eve to look up to me and believe that I could-and would-protect her. She'd probably laugh and cal me a Neanderthal, but secretly, deep down, she'd be pleased.

I got out of the hearse and walked over toward the other cars. The teens fel silent, watching me. Nobody ran, nobody reacted overtly, but they were allready; I could see it in the tension of their bodies. Even the stoners put down their drugs of choice to pay attention.

I knew how it was. I'd rarely been one to come hang out here, but I was a Morganville kid. We'd allbeen taught to watch vampires with complete attention when one was in the area.

"You," I said, and nodded at Roy. He stayed where he was, one arm draped over his girlfriend's shoulders. "Just you. Everybody else gets a free pass tonight."

"Hey, look; it's the big man off campus," he said. "I'm busy. Screw you."

I felt a growl building inside me, the beast clawing on its chain. Eve's smile flashed in front of my mind's eye, and I wanted so badly to wipe the grin off his face. "Careful," I said softly. Just that. His girlfriend must have sensed the menace coming off me, because she straightened up and cast Roy a worried look; the others were slipping quietly off the hoods of their own vehicles, stowing their drinks and smokes. No loyalty here. Nobody was wil ing to stand up for Roy, not even the girl he still held clamped under his arm as if he intended to use her as a human shield.

I waited until the other vehicles started their engines and began heading for less hostile places to get high. Once they were allgone, the Morganville night was cold, silent, and very, very heavy around us.

"Why Eve?" I asked him. I was aware of Shane standing somewhere behind me, ready and most likely armed; I didn't need him. Not for this.

"Why did you go after my wife?" Wife still sounded strange in my mouth; she'd been girlfriend or friend for so many years. But it was a heavy word, an important one, and he must have heard it, because his grin got tighter and more predatory.

"'Cause it's evil," he said. "Anybody stupid enough to marry a vampire deserves to die before she contaminates other people."

"She wasn't hurting you."

"Man, it makes me want to vomit just looking at her, knowing you had your hands allover her. She's better off dead." That grin-I kept staring at it, wanting to rip it off his face. "Is she? Dead?"

"No," I said.

"Too bad. Maybe next time. 'Cause you know there's gonna be a next time, fanger. You can't get us all."

"Maybe not," I said, "but I can damn sure get you."

I moved, and he caught it and moved at the same time, shoving his girlfriend into my path. She screamed and rolled off the hood, tripping me, but I landed easily on the other side of her and grabbed Roy by the arm as he tried to jump behind the wheel. His shirt tore as he jerked free, and he backed up, still grinning, but it was more like a snarl now.

He had a spray can in his hand. I didn't need to ask to know it was silver. The downside of allthe weapons that Shane and Eve had developed to help us survive was that now allof the humans of Morganville had the recipes; he'd made his own anti-vamp pepper spray, and if he nailed me with it, it wouldn't just hurt; it might blind me for days. It would certainly put me down hard enough that he could stake me with silver without breaking a sweat.

Except that I heard Shane, still standing behind me, pump a shotgun. Roy's eyes slid past me to focus on him, and his snarl faltered.

"Looks like somebody brought a can to a gunfight," Shane said. "Just to be clear, if you tag my friend, I get to spray you right back. Seems fair."

"You won't shoot me," Roy said. "I'm like you. I'm resistance."

"Then the resistance is scraping the bottom of the DNA barrel," Shane said. "And you're going after my friends. That trumps anything else." I wouldn't have doubted him, in that moment. Eve was like his adopted sister, and I knew how Shane felt about her.

So did Roy. He stepped back, eyes darting side to side. He finally dropped the spray can and held up his hands. "Okay. Okay, fine, you got me. What you gonna do now, vamp? Kil me?"

"I could," I said.

"He's got a card that says he can, and everything," Shane said. "But he's not going to." I sent him a look. Shane shrugged. "You're not, man. I know you. Anyway, it ain't the Roys of this thing you have to worry about. You need to talk to the head man."

"Captain Obvious," I said. Roy's face drained of color. "You're going to tel me where to find him."

"No way."

His girlfriend was getting to her feet behind me. I didn't even look at her, but I grabbed her and pulled her closer, my arm around her neck to hold her still as she struggled. "We'll start with her," I said. "And if she's not important to you, then I'm pretty sure saving your own neck wil do the trick.

You kicked my wife when she was down, Roy. You're not that brave."

"Michael," Shane said, very quietly.

"Shut up," I said, and let my fangs come down. "Captain Obvious. Now."

It took only about a minute for him to give it up, but for me to feel I was done with him, it took four more.

"You have something to say?" I asked Shane. I was in the front now, since it was no longer daylight. He cut his gaze toward me for a second, raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. "Too little or too much?"

"I'm not you, Michael. I don't know. It's really too bad about the car, though. That was a really nice car."

"If it were Claire-"

"It nearly was Claire." He paused for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know. I'd want to kil the little bastard. Hel , I still want to."

"I could," I said. "And nobody would say a thing about it. Do you know how scary that is?"

"Yeah," he said. "And I think it was damn nice of you to just break his arm. But the next vampire, they'd kil somebody for staring at them too long, spil ing their coffee, whatever. That's why it can't be like this, with every vampire getting some kind of free pass to murder. For every Michael, there are three Jasons. Get me?"

I nodded. I understood that better than he did, probably; I'd been around more vampires over the past year or two than he ever had. "We have to fix things," I said. "You're right about that. First Captain Obvious, and then-"

"Then Oliver," Shane said. "Because that crusty old bastard is getting his way, and if he does for much longer, we're not going to have a town left. The only way we're going to survive here is if we make everybody show respect."

The drive-like every drive inside the city limits-was short, and when we pulled to a halt in front of a plain, everyday house-it was a little weather-beaten, a little run-down-Shane and I sat for a moment, assessing it. "What do you think?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"Looks okay," he said. "But if Roy wasn't shining us on, and it is Captain Obvious's place, he's going to be prepared for the vampire apocalypse in there. You walk in there allfangs and red eyes, and you're done."

"You want me to let you go in by yourself."

"Seems safer," Shane said. "After all, I'm the poster child for anti-vamp, right? He's going to hear me out."

"Maybe," I said. "But the point isn't to talk, Shane. It's to kick ass and make sure he never comes after Eve again. Or you. Or Claire. If he wants to nail a target on me, fine, I've earned it along with the thirst for blood. But there's a line, and he's crossed it."

"I know," Shane said. "Believe me, I know."

"No, you don't. You haven't seen Eve yet."

Shane considered that, then nodded, opened his door, and got out. He left the shotgun behind, on the rack behind the seat. "You hear me yell, get in there," he said. "Otherwise, wait here. Promise me."

I didn't, and he didn't insist on it; after a second's hesitation, he shook his head and walked up the cracked steps to the front door. He tried the bel , then knocked, and after a few long moments, the curtains in the front window twitched, and the door swung open.

I sat very still , watching. Listening. And, I realized, I wasn't the only one. There was another vampire in the shadows, almost invisible except for a quick shimmer of red eyes. Vampires had no scent, unless they'd recently fed, and out here in the yard, with allthe smel s of grass, manure, dirt, wood, metal, there was no chance to detect one that way at all. I wondered who it was. No point in a confrontation, anyway; I needed to focus, in case Shane ended up needing me.

The vampire disappeared just seconds after I noticed his presence.

Shane didn't yel for help. He opened the front door and gestured; I got out and walked up toward him.

"Take it slow," he advised me. "Think of it as visiting the Founder's office. He's just about as ready to killyou if you put a foot wrong." I'd defied the hel out of Amelie already, I thought, but Shane didn't necessarily need to know that. I walked up to the door and...stopped, because the house had a barrier. Most Morganville houses didn't, unless they were really old or Founder Houses, but this one was different. And it was strong.

"Come in," Shane said, but that didn't change anything. I was a vampire, and I wasn't getting inside until the house resident altered the rules. Enrique Ramos appeared in the hal behind my friend, and stared at me for a moment before he said, "Yeah, come on in."

I passed a pile of black clothing, a mask, a leather jacket, and paused to look at them. There was also a motorcycle helmet. "Yours?"

"Sure," he said, and threw me a cold smile. "Everybody saw me in them at the rally."

"Then you're not Captain Obvious," I said.

"Why not?"

"Too obvious."

And I was right; he was probably one of three or four decoys out there, playing the captain, leading the vampires around on goose chases. This was his house, and a good place to hold a neutral headquarters, since it had been in his family a long time; his mother had moved to a new place and left it to her son, and he'd made it a kind of secured, fortified meeting place.

The war council of Captain Obvious was in session at the dinner table in the kitchen, and as Enrique and Shane walked me in, I realized just how much trouble we were in. There were several of Morganville's most prominent businessmen at the table, including the owner of the bank, but that wasn't the issue.

There was a vampire sitting at the Captain Obvious table. Naomi. A blood sister to Amelie, she was a pretty, delicate-seeming vampire who looked allof twenty, if that; she had a gentle manner and sweet smile, and it concealed depths that I hadn't understood for a long time. She wasn't just ambitious; she was calculating, backstabbing, and determined to win.

"I thought you were dead," I told her. I'd been informed she'd been kil ed by the draug, in the final battle; there'd been a whisper that it wasn't the draug who'd done it, but Amelie, by proxy, getting rid of a credible rival for leader of Morganville.

Naomi lifted her shoulders in a very French sort of shrug. "I have been before," she said in that lovely, silvery voice, and laughed a little. "As you know, Michael, I am hard to keep that way." She sent me a smile that invited me to share the joke, but I didn't smile back. For allher graces and kind manners, there was an ice-cold core to her that most didn't ever see. "Sit and be welcome."

"You're not Captain Obvious," I said, and stared at each of the human men at the table in turn. Then I turned to the woman seated across from her. "You are."

Hannah Moses nodded. Her scarred face was still and quiet, her dark eyes watchful. "I knew you'd be impossible to fool about this. Sit down, Michael."

I didn't want to sit down at the Captain Obvious table. I was still angry, yeah, but I was also more than a little bit shocked, and betrayed. Hannah had been a friend. An ally. She'd protected allof us, at one time or another; she was a solid, real person, with a solid set of values.

That made it so, so much worse.

But anyway, I sat, because the alternative was to go ful throttle, and I wasn't quite there. Not yet. Shane kept standing, leaning against the wal , arms folded. He was watching Enrique, who was doing the same thing; bodyguards, I guessed, facing off in silence and ready for the other to make a move. There was muttering among the business leaders, and at least one of them got up to leave the room in protest.

"Sit down, Mr. Farmer," I said without looking at him. "We're going to have a conversation about your son and where he gets his funny ideas."

Roy Farmer's dad got an odd look on his face and sank back in his seat. "Is my son alive?"

"Yep," Shane said, with false cheer. I wouldn't have been quite so quick to reassure him. "Hope you don't mind the fix-up on his car. Oh, and his arm."

"You bloodsucking parasite son of a-"

I moved, then, slamming my palm on the table hard enough to leave a crack in the wood. "I didn't kil him," I said. "Shut up and take it as a gift."

He did, looking white around the mouth. Then I looked at Hannah. "You put us in the crosshairs. You put Eve in the crosshairs," I said to Hannah.

"Why would you do that?"

"Why did you have to put her in the middle?" she asked me, in a frighteningly reasonable tone. "You know that the vampires won't let her stay there for long; they'l have her kil ed before they let humans gain power in this town through her status as a legal consort. You knew that when you married her. By putting pressure on her from the human side, we were hoping we could save her life and make her leave you. Get you to understand how dangerous this is for her, and for you. We don't hate you, Michael. But you're in the way."

"Wait," Shane said, turning his head toward her. "You had Roy Farmer beat her up to help? That's what you're tel ing us?"

"It's hardly our fault. Roy was never supposed to do more than frighten her," Naomi said, with that charming little way she had. "I assure you, he was never supposed to harm her badly. He was only to make it clear that she would not be accepted as Michael's wife. As the vampires have also made it clear. I have heard that Oliver sent Pennyfeather to make that same point."

"Eve's not a pawn you can move around the board," I said, spearing Naomi with a glare, then Hannah, then the others. "And neither am I."

"But that is exactly what you are, Michael. You, Shane, Claire, Eve-al of you. You are played for one side or the other at every turn, and you fail to see it." Naomi shook her head in what I was sure was fake sadness, but it was very convincing. "Mistakes have been made, but no one intended permanent harm to your lover. You may take my word for it."

"My wife," I said, pointedly. "Cal her that."

Naomi inclined her head. "D'accord."

I looked at Hannah. She hadn't said much so far, and left Naomi to try to make the justifications. She watched me, and Shane, with calm and careful attention, hands loose and relaxed on the table in front of her.

But she was afraid. I could feel that, hear it in the rapid beat of her heart. allof the humans were afraid. They ought to be, I thought. They were allied now with a traitorous vampire, and they'd just made an enemy of someone who by all rights should have been their friend and supporter.

"You should never have touched Eve," I told Hannah.

"I'm sorry for what happened," she said. "But, Michael, you allmade your choices, and your choices have consequences. If you want Eve to be safe, you should allow her to come back to her own side. With us."

"Why do there have to be sides? We're people, Hannah."

She shook her head. "You were people. You like to think you still are, but you're a kil er at heart. And there are always sides. If you can't give her up just because you love her, then you're selfish, and you're the one putting her more at risk every day-from your own kind."

"So what am I supposed to do?" It burst out of me in anger, and allof a sudden I was on my feet, eyes blazing, rage bringing out my fangs and my fury. "She's my wife! This isn't you, Hannah. It's not like you at all, bringing innocent people into this, getting them hurt, maybe killed!"

Hannah didn't move, and she didn't reach for a weapon. Enrique pushed off the wal , and so did Shane in a match move, but I was the only one showing any threat.

Hannah said, "Gentlemen-could you leave me, Naomi, and Michael alone, please?"

The Morganville businessmen allgot up and left the room without argument. Enrique stuck around.

"I wil if he wil ," Enrique said, and nodded toward Shane, who nodded right back.

"Maybe you guys can go have a stare-off in the other room," I said, and got a chal enging frown from Shane. "If something was going to go sideways, it already would have happened. Right?"

"Probably," Shane said. "But I don't like this."

"It's better if we do this alone," Hannah said. "You, me, and Naomi. There are things we need to keep private, even from our advisers."

I studied them, then jerked my head at Shane. He made an after-you motion to Enrique, then followed the other man out of the room.

The door to the kitchen shut tightly behind them.

From the moment the door closed, Hannah said nothing. It was as if she'd just...powered off. It was Naomi who stood up and walked the perimeter of the kitchen, apparently fascinated by the countertops, the appliances, the drawer pul s.

"The solution to your problem is perfectly commonplace," Naomi said finally. "Let Eve think you have ceased to care for her, and her safety will be assured. Your marriage is the problem, and it's the marriage that must be ended. You may choose the timing of the legal actions, of course, but it's imperative that you make her leave you now."

"I can't do that." The anger wasn't helping me, and alltoo soon, it drained away, leaving me feeling empty and hol ow. "I can't just push her away. Hannah-"

Hannah wasn't looking at me, or at anything. I had a visceral sense of sudden danger, and I turned on Naomi. "Why are you here? You're not Captain Obvious; you can't be. How did you get them to even let you in the door?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask that," she said, and smiled at me from under her long eyelashes. "I can be very persuasive. It's been my strength. Once I realized that Hannah Moses made such an excel ent leader for the human resistance, it was clear I should ally myself to it. How else am I to bring down my sister?"

I glanced at Hannah again, eyes widening, because it wasn't right that she was sitting so quietly, like a dol that had been switched off...or a puppet.

The distraction was allNaomi needed. If my nerves hadn't been strung guitar-tight, I'd never have seen her move; even with that much warning, though I didn't understand what she was going to do. I thought she was going to stake me, and I raised my hands in defense, but she darted past me, behind me, grabbed me, and pulled me off-balance. I felt her hands snaking cold around my chest, then pushing my chin high-

And then she bit me before I could yel for help.

Her fangs slid into my throat, and it felt like being stabbed with ice; allthe warmth began to flood away from me, into her, and in its place I felt a terrible dark influence sliding through my veins. Naomi, like Bishop, her vampire father, had the power to subvert other vampires-and now, she had me. Just as she'd taken control of Hannah, and through Hannah, the entire human resistance.

We were alljust puppets now.

It didn't take long, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to fight it. When she let me go, I col apsed to my hands and knees on the tile, mouth open, fangs extended, and Naomi walked calmly back to take her seat again at the table. She looked at Hannah. "Then that's finished," she said, and tapped her fingers on the wood of the table in a complex, musical rhythm. "Michael. Stand."

I did. I wanted to lunge at her, kil her, rip her apart, but I knew that none of it was showing on my face or in my body language. Just as nothing showed in Hannah's. The reason it hadn't fit for Hannah to have put Eve at such deadly risk was that it hadn't been her choice. It was Naomi's decision-al of it, tracing back to Naomi. And it was way too late for me to do anything about it. I couldn't even try to warn people.

"This is what you wil do, Michael," Naomi said. "You wil go back to see your lovely wife and tel her you've had second thoughts. You'l do whatever is necessary to destroy alltrust between you. And then you wil pack your things and come back here, to me. You'l make an excel ent soldier. Best of all, no one wil suspect you. Amelie's bloodchild? You are a perfect little assassin."

"Yes," I said. No, no, no, I was screaming, but I couldn't do anything at allto stop myself. "What should I do about Shane? And Claire?"

"Shane's of no consequence, and neither is the girl, except as a tool to be used. I've taken Myrnin out of play; without the protection of her black knight, she is no more than a pawn. But..." She tapped pale fingers to her lips, looking momentarily thoughtful. "You make a good point. What of Claire? Even a pawn may take a queen, if played properly...."

She rose to her feet and paced for a moment, arms folded, head down. Hannah and I stared at each other. Her heart was hammering, and I recognized now that it wasn't fear she felt but rage. She was just as trapped as I was. If Myrnin's black knight was off the table, Hannah was Naomi's white castle, hiding secrets. And what was I?

"Ah," Naomi said, and turned back toward me, eyes shining in unholy delight. "I know how to play Claire. So, this is what you wil do, and what you wil tel her...."

I listened. I hated her with every fiber of my being and every tiny bit of my soul.

But I knew I'd do what she said, even though it was going to destroy every good thing in my life.

Because I didn't have a choice.