Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [1093]
“Columbine died. I had to make a replacement, and you were not here to guide me.”
“Then the mask should have been retired, and the name with it. That was my will, and our way, once.” She began to walk toward them. I could almost see her foot, dainty in a slipper edged with white pearls.
Jean-Claude called, “Do not look upon her face. For fear of sanity and life do not meet her eyes, any of you.”
“I am not the Traveller, to need to steal bodies to walk. I did need flesh once, but I am the darkness made flesh, Pantalone. I am she who made you, made you all! Killing the necromancer will not put me back to sleep again. It is too late for that.”
It was Jake who knelt beside me, and Jean-Claude. Jake whispered, “She’s using your energy to manifest, Anita. You have to shut her down before she’s solid here. You do not want her in America in flesh and bone.”
I looked at him, and I knew. “You’re one of them.”
Jake nodded.
“You saved ma petite, when you could have let her die in the bathroom at the Circus,” Jean-Claude said.
“The Mother was always going to wake again, nothing would prevent that. Some of us believe that Anita is our only hope of controlling her. Prove my master right by shutting down the power you’re feeding her.”
“I don’t know…”
“She’s feeding on your anger, your rage.”
“I don’t know how to stop that.”
“If she feeds on Pantalone, one of the oldest of us, she may have enough power to be permanent flesh.”
The black-cloaked figure was standing at his feet. The guards were looking at me. I said the only thing I could think of: “Get away from him.”
Some of the guards hesitated, but most of them glanced toward the dark figure and moved a discreet distance.
“Anita,” Jake said, “help us.”
I turned to Jean-Claude and said, “Help me think of something besides my anger.”
The black figure was spreading into what looked like a piece of the night sky, like some beautiful and frightening cloak of stars and darkness. Pantalone shrieked, as if whatever he saw in that piece of darkness was something terrible to behold.
“Hurry,” I said.
Jean-Claude raised the ardeur, in a breath, in the feel of his mouth on mine. He raised the ardeur and stripped away my sorrow in a rush of skin and hands. I hadn’t fed the ardeur in over twelve hours. I was suddenly starving.
Marmee Noir screamed, “No!” Her rage cut through me, and a sharp pain laced my back. I felt blood a second later. The ardeur was gone in a rush of fear and pain. I turned, and Jean-Claude caught my face, forced my eyes against his velvet jacket. “She is fading, ma petite.”
Her voice came in a rush of rain and wind. “I know who your master is, wolf. You have betrayed me, and I will not forget it.”
When I could no longer smell jasmine or feel rain against my skin like some invisible presence, I asked Jake, “How do I keep her from popping in to see me?”
“There’s a charm for that.”
I gave him a look.
“People used to think she was a demon, but whatever they thought she was, one human witch made a charm a very long time ago, and it works.”
“Is it a holy symbol?” I asked.
He smiled. “No, it’s magic, not faith.”
“Isn’t all magic faith?” I asked.
“No, sometimes it’s just magic.”
The concept was too hard for me. “You got one of those charms on you?”
“Always, but I’ll get one for you. We should be safe for the rest of tonight.”
“I hope those aren’t famous last words,” I said.
“What do we do with them, Anita?” Truth asked.
I looked at Jake. “He broke your laws more than mine.”
“Kill him under your laws, we won’t argue. We suspected one of us was being