Burnt Offerings - Laurell K. Hamilton [32]
Asher didn’t try to get away. He just stared at him. “There is an empty seat on the council for the first time in over four thousand years. Whoever empties that seat takes that seat. That is the law of succession.”
Jean-Claude released Asher, slowly. “I don’t want it.”
“You shouldn’t have killed the Earthmover, then.”
“He would have killed us,” I said.
“Council’s privilege,” Asher said.
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “You’re saying because we didn’t roll over and die, we’re going to be killed now?”
“No one has come here planning to kill anyone,” Asher said. “Believe me, that was my vote, but I was the minority. The council just wants to make sure that Jean-Claude isn’t trying to set up his own little council.”
Jean-Claude and I both looked at him. I had to swing my attention back to the road before I was ready to stop being astonished.
“You are babbling, Asher,” Jean-Claude said.
“Not everyone is happy with the current council’s rules. Some say they are old-fashioned.”
“People have been saying that for four hundred years,” Jean-Claude said.
“Yes, but until now there was no alternative. Some see your refusal of the council seat as a blow for a new order.”
“You know why I did not take it.”
Asher laughed, a low roll that played along my skin. “Whatever do you mean, Jean-Claude?”
“I am not powerful enough to hold a council seat. The first challenger would sense that and kill me, then they would have my council seat. I would be a stalking-horse.”
“Yet you killed a council member. How did you manage that, Jean-Claude?” He leaned on the back of my seat. I could feel him. He picked up a curl of my hair, and I jerked my head away.
“Where the hell are we going? You were supposed to give directions,” I said.
“There is no need for directions,” Jean-Claude said. “They have taken the Circus.”
“What?” I stared at him, and the only thing that kept the Jeep from swerving was luck. “What did you say?”
“Don’t you understand yet? The Traveler, Balthasar’s master, blocked my powers and the powers of my vampires, and kept them from reaching out to me.”
“Your wolves. You should have felt something from your wolves. They’re your animal to call,” I said.
Jean-Claude turned to Asher. “Only one vampire could have kept my wolves from calling out for help. The Master of Beasts.”
Asher rested his chin on the back of my seat. I felt him nod.
“Get off my seat,” I said.
He raised his head but didn’t really move back.
“They must think me powerful indeed to send two council masters,” Jean-Claude said.
Asher made a harsh sound. “Only you, Jean-Claude, would be arrogant enough to believe that two council masters came to this country just for you.”
“If not to teach me a lesson, then why are they here?” Jean-Claude asked.
“Our dark queen wished to know how this legality is working for the vampires in the States. We have traveled from Boston to New Orleans to San Francisco. She chose what cities we would visit, and in what order. Our dark queen left St. Louis, and you, for last.”
“Why would she do that?” Jean-Claude asked.
“The Queen of Nightmares can do anything she likes,” Asher said. “She says go to Boston, we go.”
“If she said, walk out into the sunlight, would you do it?” I asked. I glanced at him. He was close enough that turning my head was enough, no mirror needed.
His face was blank and beautiful, empty. “Perhaps,” he said.
I turned back to the road. “You’re crazy, you’re all crazy.”
“Too true,” Asher said. He sniffed my hair.
“Stop that.”
“You smell of power, Anita Blake. You reek of the dead.” He traced his fingers along my neck.
I swerved the Jeep purposefully, sending him sliding around the backseat. “Don’t touch me.”
“The council thought we would find you stuffed with power. Bloated with new-found abilities, yet you seem much the same. But she is different. She is new. And there is that werewolf. Yes, that Ulfric, Richard Zeeman. You have him bound to you, as well.”
Asher pulled himself back up to