Cerulean Sins - Laurell K. Hamilton [170]
His eyes were very wide. I wasn’t actually sure if he could let me have the gun. But he did, and I threaded my way carefully back through the crowd to the front lines.
The gun was invisible, held in the folds of my full black skirt. “What did they say, Jean-Claude?”
“They don’t believe anyone here can hurt them. They say that they are invincible.”
“How long have they been asleep?”
Jean-Claude asked them. “They don’t know for certain.”
“How do they know they’re invincible?” I asked.
He asked, and they drew swords from under their white coats. Short swords, forged of something darker and heavier than steel. Was it bronze? I wasn’t sure. I just knew it wasn’t steel.
We all stepped back from the drawn blades, whatever they were made of. “They say that no weapon born of man can harm them,” Jean Claude said.
Musette laughed. “They are the finest warriors ever created. You will not touch me with them as my protectors.”
I stepped back, put myself in as balanced a stance as I could get with the high heels, and raised the gun. I aimed for a headshot, and got it. The vampire’s head exploded in a wash of blood and brains. The sound of the shot seemed to echo forever, and I couldn’t hear the yell I saw on the lips of the second warrior as he charged me. His head exploded like the first one had. All the hand-to-hand combat training in the world is useless if your enemy doesn’t let you get close enough to use it.
Musette stood blinking, too shocked to move, I think. She was covered in blood and gore. Her blond hair and pale face were a red mask, out of which her blue eyes blinked. Her white dress was half crimson.
I aimed the gun at her startled face. I thought about it, God knows, I thought about it. But I didn’t need Jean-Claude’s frightened, “Ma petite, please, for all our sakes, do not do this,” to make me hesitate. I couldn’t kill Musette, because of what Belle Morte might do in retaliation. But I let Musette see in my eyes, my face, my body, that I would kill her, that I wanted to kill her, and that, given the right excuse, I might forget Belle’s vengeance for the second it would take me to pull a trigger.
Musette’s eyes filled with glistening tears. She was a fool, but not so big a fool as all that. But I had to be certain, so we didn’t have these misunderstandings again. “What do you see in my face, Musette?” My voice was low, almost a whisper, because I was afraid of what my hand would do if I yelled.
She swallowed and, it was loud to my ringing ears. “I see my death upon your face.”
“Yes,” I said, “yes, you do. Never forget this moment, Musette, because if it happens again, it will be your last moment.”
She let out a shaking breath. “I understand.”
“I hope so, Musette, I really, truly, hope so.” I lowered the gun, slowly. “Now, Merle can you oversee Musette and Angelito going to their rooms, right now.”
Merle stepped forward, and a small army of werehyenas moved with him. “My Nimir-Ra speaks, and I obey.” I’d heard him say things like that to Micah before, but never to me, or at least not like he meant it.
Merle stepped over the bodies of the dead vampires to take Musette’s arm. The wereheynas looked pale, but happier. I’d just made all the muscle in the room happy, because things were simple now. We could kill them if they messed up again.
I caught Jean-Claude’s expression. He was not happy. I’d made the soldiers’ job easier, but not the politicians’. No, I think I’d just complicated the hell out of the political side of things.
Merle led Musette, none too gently over the bodies. She stumbled, and only a mass of werehyenas kept Angelito from grabbing her. Musette regained her balance, and the room suddenly smelled like roses.
I thought I’d choke on my own pulse as Musette raised her head and showed eyes the color of dark honey.
46
BELLE MORTE LOOKED at me, out of Musette’s face, and I think I stopped breathing. All I could hear for a moment was the hammering of my own heart in my head. Sound returned with a rush, and Belle Morte’s voice slid out of Musette’s mouth.
“I am vexed