The Killing Dance - Laurell K. Hamilton [127]
A strange expression crossed Jean-Claude’s face. “You, asking for help, ma petite? That is unusual.”
I drew away from both of them. We could get the power back, I was pretty certain of that. I looked at Willie’s empty face and the fuzzy dice hanging from his coffin. “If I make a mistake, Willie’s gone. I want him back.”
There were times when I thought that it wasn’t Jean-Claude who had convinced me that vampires weren’t always monsters. It was Willie and Dead Dave, ex-cop and bar owner. It was a host of lesser vampires that seemed, occasionally, like nice guys. Jean-Claude was a lot of things; nice was not one of them.
31
* * *
DOMINIC Dumare showed up wearing a pair of black dress slacks and a black leather jacket unzipped over a grey silk T-shirt. He looked more relaxed without Sabin looking on, like an employee on his day off. Even the neatly trimmed Vandyke beard and mustache seemed less formal.
Dominic walked around the three vampires I’d raised. We’d moved back out into the rubble-strewn main area, so he could see the zombies and the vampires all at once. He paced around the vampires, touching them here and there. He grinned at me, teeth flashing in his dark beard. “This is marvelous, truly marvelous.”
I fought the urge to frown at him. “Forgive me if I don’t share your enthusiasm. Can you help me put them back the way they were?”
“Theoretically, yes.”
“When people start using the word theoretically, it means they don’t know how to do something. You can’t help me, can you?”
“Now, now,” Dominic said. He knelt by Willie, staring up at him, studying him like a bug under a bioscope. “I didn’t say I couldn’t help. It’s true that I’ve never seen this done. And you say you’ve done this before.” He stood up, brushing off the knees of his pants.
“Once.”
“That time was without the triumvirate?” Dominic asked.
I’d had to tell him. I understood enough about ritual magic to know that if we withheld how we’d gotten this much power, anything Dominic helped us come up with wouldn’t work. It would be like telling the police it was a burglary when it was really a murder. They’d be trying to solve the wrong crime.
“Yeah, the first time was just me.”
“But both times in daylight hours?” he asked.
I nodded.
“That makes sense. We can only raise zombies after the souls have flown. It would make sense that vampires can only be raised during the day. When darkness falls, their souls return.”
I wasn’t even going to try and argue about whether or not vampires had souls. I wasn’t as sure of the answer as I used to be.
“I can’t raise zombies during daylight hours. Let alone vampires,” I said.
Dominic motioned at all the waiting dead of both kinds. “But you did it.”
I shook my head. “That’s not the point. I’m not supposed to be able to do it.”
“Have you ever tried to raise normal zombies during daylight hours?”
“Well, no. The man who trained me said it wasn’t possible.”
“So you never tried,” Dominic said.
I hesitated before answering.
“You have tried,” he said.
“I can’t do it. I can’t even call the power under the light of the sun.”
“Only because you believe you can’t,” Dominic said.
“Run that by me again.”
“Belief is one of the most important aspects of magic.”
“You mean, if I don’t believe I can raise zombies during the day, I can’t.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Richard said. He leaned against one of the intact walls. He’d been very quiet while I talked magic with Dominic. Jason, still in wolf form, lay at his feet. Stephen had cleared some of the broken stones and sat beside the wolf.
“Actually,” I said, “it does. I’ve seen people with a lot of raw talent that couldn’t raise anything. One guy was convinced it was a mortal sin so he just blocked it out. But he shone with power whether he wanted to accept it or not.”
“A shapeshifter can deny his power all he wants, but that doesn’t keep him from changing,” Richard