Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [122]
“So they’ll kill her, just like that?” Richard asked. He moved closer to me as if he’d touch me, but his hands hesitated above my shoulders.
Without looking at him, I said, “One story about burning people alive and you don’t want to touch me. You prejudiced little werewolf, you.” I tried to keep my voice light but a harsh edge crept in.
His hands gripped my shoulders tightly. “It really bothers you, what you did, doesn’t it?”
I turned to see his face, his hands still on my shoulders. “Of course it bothers me. I didn’t just kill Magnus, I tortured him to death. Ellie Quinlan didn’t deserve to be burned alive.” I shook my head and tried to step away from him. He slid his arms across my back, holding me gently against him.
“I’m sorry you had to do it.” He touched my hair with one hand, the other still against my back. “Your eyes are haunted by it, by what you did. Don’t take this wrong, but it makes me feel better to see that pain in your eyes.”
I pushed away from him. “Did you think I could kill someone by torture and feel nothing?”
He met my eyes but it seemed like it was an effort. “I wasn’t sure.”
I shook my head.
Jean-Claude took my left hand; the other was still holding the Firestar. He turned me to face him. He raised my hand towards his lips as he bowed slowly towards me. He spoke as he moved, “There is nothing that you could ever do that would make me not desire the touch of your body.” He kissed my hand. His lips lingered a little longer than was polite. His tongue licked across my skin, and I pulled away.
“It scares you that I can raise vampires like this.”
“Perhaps, ma petite, but I have frightened you for years and yet you are still here.”
He had a point. I stared at Willie. “Let’s see if we can put everyone back where they belong.” I hoped I could do it. I wanted Willie back, even if it was only a lie. He walked, he talked, it was still Willie. Or maybe, I just wanted it to be Willie. Maybe I needed it to be Willie.
29
* * *
“TAKE me to the coffin room,” I said.
“Why?” Jean-Claude asked. There was something in the way he said that one word that made me stare at him.
“Because I asked.”
“How would my flock feel if I allowed the Executioner to enter their private chamber while they slept helpless?”
“I’m not going to kill anybody today, not on purpose.”
“I do not like the way you said that, ma petite.”
“Uncontrolled power is unpredictable, Jean-Claude. All sorts of unpleasant things can happen. I need to see where the vampires will be resting. I want to try and put them back in a controlled manner.”
“What sorts of unpleasant things?” Richard asked.
It was a good question. Since I was pretty much flying blind, I didn’t have a good answer. “It takes less power to put back than it does to raise. If we just call it up wild and try to will them back . . .” I shook my head.
“You could extinguish their life force,” Cassandra said.
I looked at her. “What did you say?”
“You’re going to put them back in their coffins as you would a zombie, but with a zombie you will it to be dead again, correct?”
I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but she was right.
“If you will the vampires back in their coffins, you’re in effect willing them dead again like a zombie, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But you don’t want them permanently dead.”
My head was beginning to hurt. “No, I don’t want them permanently dead.”
“How do you know so very much about necromancy, Cassandra?” Jean-Claude asked.
“I have a master’s degree in magical theory.”
“That must be useful on a résumé,” I said.
“Not in the least,” she said, “but it might be useful now.”
“Did you know your newest pack member was so well-educated, Richard?” Jean-Claude asked.
“Yes,” he said, “it’s one of the reasons I gave her permission to move here.”
“Permission to move here?” I said, “Why did she need your permission?”
“A werewolf