Incubus Dreams - Laurell K. Hamilton [189]
He gave me a real smile this time, with enough humor to drive out the blankness in his eyes. “I fear you are right.”
“Then we muscle through this, and you guys can drive me back to the club.”
“Where your pomme de sang waits,” he said.
“Yeah.” I wondered if I was going to get back in time to see any of Nathaniel’s dance. I suddenly saw Nathaniel in front of a mirror. He was putting eyeliner around his lavender eyes. He stopped in the middle of it and said, “Anita?”—a question like he wasn’t sure.
Requiem had both my arms now. I’d have gone to my knees, if he hadn’t caught me. “Anita, what happened?”
“I thought about my pomme de sang, and I could see him. He’s getting ready to go on.” I was dizzy, and when Requiem cradled me against him, I didn’t complain. “I’ve had mind-to-mind communication with Richard and Jean-Claude. It’s never been this draining.”
Requiem picked me up, and again I was wishing I’d worn a longer skirt. God knew what he was flashing the graveside with. But I couldn’t stand, the world was swimming. “Jean-Claude is the master of your triumverate with the Ulfric, but you are the master of Nathaniel and Damian. It is your power that makes this partnership move, and that, too, uses energy.”
“Does everyone know what happened between the three of us?”
“No, he told only Asher and myself, among his vampires. Perhaps his own pomme de sang, Jason. He keeps little from him.”
I frowned at him, as the world stopped spinning. “Why you?”
“I am his third, after Asher.”
News to me, though of the vamps I’d met, I couldn’t think of anyone I’d have preferred for the job. The night was solid again. “I think I can walk.”
He looked doubtful.
“Let me try,” I said.
He lowered me to the ground, but kept an arm around me like he expected me to collapse at any minute. I guess I couldn’t blame him, but it bugged me anyway. I didn’t collapse. Great. In fact, I felt pretty good, considering. I kept a hand through his arm, so it looked like he was escorting me the last little bit of the way. Only he and I, and maybe Graham, knew just how shaky I was feeling.
Edwin Alonzo Herman was regaling his audience with a story of how he’d tricked someone into signing away a small fortune. In these modern times it would have been considered swindling, but not back in the late 1800s or even early 1900s. Many of the laws on the books about money and how you can legally aquire it stem from the old robber baron days when almost anything was fair game. Most of the ways that the first millionaires in this country won their fortunes would be illegal today. But Herman had them laughing. He looked positively rosy-cheeked, and very much the center of attention of the group of lawyers and descendants. Everyone was willing to be happy, they’d won, and the man telling the story had helped them win. If someone had saved me millions of dollars, I’d like them, too, I guess.
He finished his story to laughter, and shining faces. “I’m ready to complete the contract gentleman, and ladies,” I said.
Some of them had to shake my hand.
“Splendid job, Ms. Blake, splendid job.”
“Wow, I mean, like wow.”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen you do it.”
Apparently, I was included in the good feelings. Most people get a little uncomfortable when it’s time to put the zombie back, if he looks alive enough.
Requiem stopped the compliments. “Ms. Blake has had a difficult night, gentlemen, if you could allow her to finish her work, then she can rest.”
“Oh, terribly sorry . . . We didn’t know. Thank you . . . worth every penny.” And they began to drift away.
Edwin Alonzo Herman looked down at me, and it wasn’t a friendly look. “I understand that I am supposed to be dead and only your magic gave me life again.”
I shrugged and asked Graham to please get the machete and the salt from the bag.
“I’ve also been told that vampires have rights and are considered citizens. Am I not merely another kind of vampire? If I were declared alive, I would be a very, very wealthy man. I would be willing to share that wealth, Miss Blake.