Guilty Pleasures - Laurell K. Hamilton [118]
They stood in front of us but not too close. “Up against the wall, animator,” Burchard said. “If the man moves, Zachary, shoot him.”
Burchard shoved me into the wall and frisked me very thoroughly. He didn’t check my teeth or have me drop my pants, but that was about it. He found everything I was carrying. Even the derringer. He shoved my cross into his pocket. Maybe I could tattoo one on my arm? Probably wouldn’t work.
I went out to stand with Zachary, and Edward got his turn. I stared at Zachary. “Does she know?” I asked.
“Shut up.”
I smiled. “She doesn’t, does she?”
“Shut up!”
Edward came back, and we stood there with our hands on top of our heads, weapons gone. It was not a pretty sight.
Adrenaline was bubbling like champagne, and my pulse was threatening to jump out of my throat. I wasn’t afraid of the guns, not really. I was afraid of Nikolaos. What would she do to us? To me? If I had a choice, I’d force them to shoot me. It had to be better than anything Nikolaos had in her evil little mind.
“They are unarmed, Mistress,” Burchard said.
“Good,” she said. “Do you know what we were doing while you destroyed my people?”
I didn’t think she wanted an answer, so I didn’t give her one.
“We were preparing a friend of yours, animator.”
My stomach jerked. I had a wild image of Catherine, but she was out of town. My god, Ronnie. Did they have Ronnie?
It must have showed on my face because Nikolaos laughed, high and wild, an excited tittering.
“I really hate that laugh,” I said.
“Silence,” Burchard said.
“Oh, Anita, you are so amusing. I will enjoy making you one of my people.” Her voice started high and childlike and ended low enough to crawl down my spine.
She called out in a clear voice, “Enter this room now.”
I heard shuffling footsteps; then Phillip walked into the room. The horrible wound at his throat was thick, white scar tissue. He stared around the room as if he didn’t really see it.
I whispered, “Dear God.”
They had raised him from the dead.
47
NIKOLAOS DANCED AROUND him. The skirt of her pastel pink dress swirled around her. The large, pink bow in her hair bobbed as she twirled, arms outstretched. Her slender legs were covered in white leotards. The shoes were white with pink bows.
She stopped, laughing and breathless. A healthy pink flush on her cheeks, eyes sparkling. How did she do that?
“He looks very alive, doesn’t he?” She stalked around him, hand brushing his arm. He drew away from her, eyes following her every move, afraid. He remembered her. God help us. He remembered her.
“Do you want to see him put through his paces?” she asked.
I hoped I didn’t understand her. I fought to keep my face blank. I must have succeeded because she stomped over to me, hands on hips.
“Well,” she said, “do you want to watch your lover perform?”
I swallowed bile, hard. Maybe I should just throw up on her. That would teach her. “With you?” I asked.
She sidled up to me, hands clasped behind her back. “It could be you. Your choice.”
Her face was almost touching mine. Eyes so damned wide and innocent that it seemed sacrilegious. “Neither sounds very appealing,” I said.
“Pity.” She half-skipped back to Phillip. He was naked, and his tanned body was still handsome. What were a few more scars?
“You didn’t know I was going to be here, so why raise Phillip from the dead?” I asked.
She turned on the heels of her little shoes. “We raised him so he could try to kill Aubrey. Murdered zombies can be so much fun, while they try to kill their murderers. We thought we’d give him a chance while Aubrey was asleep. Aubrey can move if you disturb him.” She glanced at Edward. “But then you know that.”
“You were going to let Aubrey kill him again,” I said.
She nodded, head bobbing. “Mmm-uh.”
“You bitch,” I said.
Burchard shoved the rifle butt into my stomach, and I dropped