Circus of the Damned - Laurell K. Hamilton [127]
I had come that close to the great beyond. I couldn’t remember any tunnel of light, or soothing voices. I felt cheated. “I don’t remember.”
“You were unconscious; you’re not supposed to remember.”
“Sit down, before I get a crick looking up at you.”
He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed, smiling at me. It was a nice smile.
“So you’re a werewolf.”
He nodded.
“How did it happen?”
He stared down at the floor, then up. His face looked so solemn, I was sorry I’d asked. I was expecting some great tale of a savage attack survived. “I got a bad batch of lycanthropy serum.”
“You what?”
“You heard me.” He seemed embarrassed.
“You got a bad shot?”
“Yes.”
My smile got wider and wider.
“It’s not funny,” he said.
I shook my head. “Not at all.” I knew my eyes were shiny, and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. “You’ve got to admit it’s nicely ironic.”
He sighed. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Go ahead and laugh.”
I did. I laughed until it hurt, and Richard joined in. Laughter is contagious, too.
49
A DOZEN WHITE ROSES came later that day with a note from Jean-Claude. The note read, “You are free of me, if you choose. But I hope you want to see me as much as I want to see you. It is your choice. Jean-Claude.”
I stared at the flowers for a long time. I finally had a nurse give them to someone else, or throw them away, or whatever the hell she wanted to do with them. I just wanted them out of my sight. So I was still attracted to Jean-Claude. I might even, in some dark corner, love him a little. It didn’t matter. Loving the monsters always ends badly for the human. It’s a rule.
That brought me to Richard. He was one of the monsters, but he was alive. That was an improvement over Jean-Claude. And was he any less human than I was: zombie queen, vampire slayer, necromancer? Who was I to complain?
I don’t know where they put all the body parts, but no police ever came asking. Whether I’d saved the city or not, it was still murder. Legally, Oliver had done nothing to deserve death.
I got out of the hospital and went back to work. Larry stayed on. He’s learning how to hunt vampires, God save him.
The lamia was truly immortal. Which I guess means lamias can’t have been extinct. They just must always have been rare. Jean-Claude got the lamia a green card and gave her a job at the Circus of the Damned. I don’t know if he’s letting her breed, or not. I haven’t been near the Circus since I got out of the hospital.
Richard and I finally had that first date. We went for something fairly traditional: dinner and a movie. We’re going caving next week. He promised no underwater tunnels. His lips are the softest I’ve ever kissed. So he gets furry once a month. No one’s perfect.
Jean-Claude hasn’t given up. He keeps sending me gifts. I keep refusing them. I have to keep saying no until he gives up, or until hell freezes over, whichever comes first.
Most women complain that there are no single, straight men left. I’d just like to meet one who’s human.
MOVING THINGS AROUND
WARNING, THIS AFTERWORD IS a spoiler. If you have not read Circus of the Damned, the book in your hands, then stop reading this. Because I’m about to talk about events in the book, plot points in the mystery, and various other things that will spoil the plot for you. Or it would spoil it for me. Okay, I’m assuming that everyone still reading has read the book. The rest of you have been warned!
Circus of the Damned is the third book in Anita’s adventures. In the first and second books, Guilty Pleasures and The Laughing Corpse, I scouted locations around the city and countryside. I used street maps and I drove everywhere I could. I loved driving around St. Louis and deciding where the bodies would be. But a funny thing happened between the time Guilty Pleasures hit the shelves and The Laughing Corpse was delivered to New York: People began telling me that they’d found the house where the freak party had been in Guilty Pleasures. I thought I’d put in enough detail but left some out so you couldn’t find it, because, of course,