• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Vivian spoke for the first time. “Is he dead?” Her voice was breathy, husky, somewhere between that of a little girl and a seductress. She would be great on the phone. The look in her eyes was neither childish nor seductive; it was frightening. She stared past us to where Fernando lay, and her hatred was a hot, scalding thing.

Not that I blamed her. I went to check on our little rapist. Gideon and Thomas got to him first. I noticed that they hadn’t gone near him until I did. Why did I think that they didn’t like him much better than we did? Fernando just had a way of pissing people off. It seemed to be his only talent.

His bare stomach was a bloody mess where Richard had tried to dig his intestines out, but the wound was healing. Filling itself in like a fast-forward motion picture. You could actually see his body rebuild itself.

“He’ll live,” I said. Even to me, I sounded disappointed.

“Yes,” Thomas said, and that one word sounded as disappointed as I felt. He visibly shook himself, and turned sad brown eyes to me. “If he had died, then Padma would have destroyed the city, seeking you. Make no mistake, Anita, Padma loves his son, but more than that, he is his only son. The only chance he has of having an heir.”

“I wouldn’t think a vampire would sweat that,” I said.

“He comes from a time and a culture where a son is an incredibly important thing. No matter how long we live or what we are in the end, we start out as people. We never quite lose all that we were during life. It haunts us over the centuries, our humanity.”

“You’re human.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Once, perhaps.”

I opened my mouth to ask something, but he held his hand up. “If there is time, Gideon and I would enjoy speaking with you and Richard at length on what a triumvirate can be, but now, you must leave before Fernando awakes. During daylight hours he is in charge of us.”

My eyes widened, and I looked at Gideon. “But he’s not alpha enough to take on Gideon.”

“Padma is a harsh master, Anita. We obey or we suffer.”

“Which is why,” Gideon said, “you must all leave as soon as possible. What the petit bâtard would order us to do to you if he awoke now is best left unsaid.”

He had a point. Gregory screamed, a high shrieking, that ended in whimpering. Richard had said the legs had begun to heal, bent backwards. I suddenly realized what that meant. “If the legs had healed broken, Gregory would have been crippled,” I said.

“Yes,” Gideon said. “It was Padma’s idea of punishment.”

Fernando groaned, eyes still shut. We had to get out of here. “I need my guns back,” I said.

They didn’t even argue. They just gave them all back. Either they trusted me or they figured I wouldn’t shoot Fernando while he was unconscious. They were right, though he’d earned it. I’d killed people for a lot less than what the rat-boy had done, a lot less.

Gregory had mercifully passed out. Richard held him as carefully as he could in his arms. They’d found wood from somewhere and used Richard’s shirt to tie the makeshift splints to Gregory’s legs. Vivian leaned heavily on Zane as if her legs weren’t quite working. She was also trying to cover her lower extremities. So hurt she could barely walk and she was embarrassed about her nudity. We were sort of out of clothes to offer her. The coat I’d brought was in the outer area.

Thomas saved the day by giving her his spiffy red jacket. It was large on her and covered enough. Just making it outside the tent to the midway made my shoulders relax a notch. I picked up the coat and put a gun in each pocket. The machine gun was already across my chest.

Thomas held the door for us. I went through last. “Thank you,” I said. We both knew I didn’t mean the door.

“You are most welcome.” He closed the door behind us, and I heard it lock.

I stood in the hot summer sunlight and felt my body sink into the heat. It was good to be outside in the daylight. But night was coming, and I still didn’t know what price Jean-Claude had bargained