• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Jean-Claude’s voice drew me back to the coffin. “Drink, Gretchen, drink of my blood. I gave you life once, let it be so again.” Jason was sitting slumped beside the coffin, cradling his bloody wrist with a beatific expression on his face. The dried thing was sitting up with Jean-Claude’s arm behind its shoulders. It looked . . . better, but still not alive, not even quite real. He offered the pale flesh of his wrist to that lipless mouth, still red with Jason’s blood, and it bit down. I heard Jean-Claude sigh, but that was the only sign that it might hurt.

“Blood to blood, flesh to flesh.” Jean-Claude spoke the words, and with each word, with each suck of blood, I felt the power grow, felt it curl in my stomach, shorten my breath. Gretchen’s body began to stretch and fill. The pieces of hair thickened and began to flow around her. The dried things in her eye sockets filled and began to have a hint of blue to them. When Jean-Claude moved his wrist from her mouth, they were full-pouting lips. She had blue eyes and a wealth of yellow hair. She was thin, her bones showing under the near translucent paleness of her skin. Her eyes were filled with fire, nothing human. Her hands were still painfully thin, her body fragile, but she looked almost like the vampire that had tried to kill me years ago.

He picked her up in his arms; her body didn’t fill out the clothes that hung from her frame. “Breath to breath,” he said and leaned in towards her. They kissed, and I felt the power pass between them. I knew that that kiss could have drained her life away again, but it didn’t. When he raised back from her, her face was full and rounded, human looking. It was like Prince Charming waking Sleeping Beauty, except that this beauty’s eyes found me, and the hatred in them was a burning thing.

I sighed. Some people never learn. I met that hateful gaze and said, “Gretchen, I promise you two things, you’ll never have to go back in that box, and if you try to hurt me or mine again, I’ll kill you. And that would be a damn shame since I’m the one who persuaded Jean-Claude to let you out in the first place.”

She just looked at me the way that tigers behind bars watch the visitors, biding their time. Jean-Claude hugged her to him. “If you try and harm my human servant again, I will see you destroyed, Gretal.” Gretal had been her original name, so I’d been told.

“I hear you, Jean-Claude.” Her voice sounded rough, as if the time in the coffin had damaged it.

“Come, Jason, we need to warm this one.” Jason got to his feet like an obedient puppy, still bleeding, still happy.

Jean-Claude paused in the doorway looking, not at me, but at Asher. “I must take this one to the bath, or all the work will be undone. But Damian is a revenant now.”

Asher raised a hand, which had been hidden along his body. He had a gun, a .10-millimeter Browning, the big brother of my own gun. “I will do what needs doing.”

“We are not going to kill Damian,” I said.

Jean-Claude looked at me, then at Micah, and Nathaniel, and Gil, and the other wereleopards, and even the bodyguards. His gaze seemed to take everyone in, then he looked at me again. “I ask again, ma petite, who will you sacrifice for your high ideals?”

“You think he can’t be saved, don’t you?”

“I know that once the madness takes a vampire, even the master who bore him cannot always bring him back to his senses.”

“Is there anything I can do that might bring him back to himself?”

“Let him feed, try to see he does not kill that which he eats, and hope when he tastes your blood, he regains his senses. If your blood does not sate him, then Asher will try to feed him. If that fails . . .” He gave that shrug that meant everything and nothing; even holding Gretchen it looked graceful.

“I don’t want him to die because of me.”

“If he dies, ma petite, it will be because he tried to kill someone in this room.” With that he walked out, Jason trailing behind.

I think, perhaps, I’d used up Jean-Claude’s patience with me, or maybe seeing what he’d done to Gretchen had bothered him that