Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [518]
“I would say that control is one of the most important things to you.”
I nodded, my hair catching on the peeling paint of the house. I pushed away from the boards to stand in front of her in the dusty yard. “How can I get back control, Marianne? You seem to have all the answers.”
She laughed again, that wholesome-bedroom sound. “Not all the answers, but the answers you seek, perhaps. I know that the munin will come for you again. It may be when you least expect it or when you need your precious control the most. It may overwhelm you and cost the lives of people you hold dear as it could have last night. All that saved Richard from having to kill to get to you was Verne’s intercession.”
“Raina would love that, to drag one of us down to the grave.”
“I felt the munin’s pleasure in destruction. You are attracted to violence, but only as it serves a greater purpose. It is a tool that you use well. Your old lupa was attracted to violence for its own sake, as a destructive thing. Destroying was what she was about. It is nicely ironic that someone so dedicated to negativity was also a healer.”
“Life is just full of little ironies,” I said. I didn’t try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“You have a chance to make her munin, her essence, into something positive. In a way, you might help her spirit work through some of its karma.”
I frowned at her.
She waved her hands. “My apologies. I’ll keep the philosophy to a miniumum. I believe I can help you call and tame the munin. I believe that together we can begin to harness all the different kinds of power you are being offered now. I can teach you to ride not just the munin but this master vampire of yours, and even your Ulfric. You are their key to each other, Anita. Their bridge. Their feelings for you are part of the binding that has been wrought between the three. I can make you the rider and not the horse.”
There was a fierceness in her face, a force that made my skin react. She meant what she said; she believed it. And strangely, so did I.
“I want to control it, Marianne, all of it. I want that more than almost anything right now. If I can’t stop it, I want to control it.”
She smiled, and it made her eyes sparkle. “Good; then let’s begin with our first lesson.”
I frowned at her. “What lesson?”
“Come into the house, Anita. The first lesson is waiting for you if your heart and mind are open to it.” She went back inside without waiting for me.
I stood there for a moment in the summer heat. If my heart and mind were open to it. What the hell did that mean? Well, as the cliché goes, only one way to find out. I opened the screen door and walked inside. Lesson number one was waiting for me.
37
MARIANNE LED ME to the room where she’d settled Nathaniel. It was a large bedroom downstairs. Hours earlier, the room would have been filled with morning light, but now, at nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, the room was dim, almost dark. The window was open, and a breeze had finally found us, spilling the white lacy curtains into the room. A small oscillating fan sat on a kitchen chair so the fan could cool the bed. The wallpaper was off-white with a fine line of pink flowers. There was a large brown water stain in the corner of the ceiling like a giant Rorschach ink blot.
The bed was a brass four-poster that had been painted white. The bedspread was quilted and looked homemade with a lot of purple- and pink-flowered fabric. Marianne had folded the bedspread and placed it on top of a large cedar chest that was under the window. “Too hot for quilts,” she’d said.
Nathaniel lay naked on the pink sheets. Marianne tucked the sheets to the tops of his thighs, patting his shoulder in a motherly sort of way. I would have protested his state of undress, but I could see the wounds clearly for the first time.
Something with claws had swiped him wide and deep, starting about the middle of his back and slashing downward across the right side of