The Laughing Corpse - Laurell K. Hamilton [129]
“Go back, all of you, go back to your graves. Rest in the quiet earth. Go back, go back.”
They stirred like a wind had blown through them, then one by one they went back to their graves. They lay down on the hard dry earth and the graves just swallowed them whole. It was like magic quicksand. The earth shuddered underfoot like a sleeper moving to a more comfortable position.
Some of the corpses had been as old as Gaynor’s ancestor, which meant that I didn’t need a human death to raise one three-hundred-year-old corpse. Bert was going to be pleased. Human deaths seemed to be cumulative. Two human deaths and I had emptied a cemetery. It wasn’t possible. But I’d done it anyway. Whatta ya know?
False dawn passed like milk on the eastern sky. The wind died with the light. Wanda knelt in the bloody grass, crying. I knelt beside her.
She jerked back at my touch. I guess I couldn’t blame her, but it bothered me anyway.
“We have to get out of here. You need a doctor,” I said.
She stared up at me. “What are you?”
Today for the first time I didn’t know how to answer that question. Human didn’t seem to cover it. “I’m an animator,” I said finally.
She just kept staring at me. I wouldn’t have believed me either. But she let me help her up. I guess that was something.
But she kept looking at me out of the edge of her eyes. Wanda considered me one of the monsters. She may have been right.
Wanda gasped, eyes wide.
I turned, too slowly. Was it the monster?
Jean-Claude stepped out of the shadows.
I didn’t breathe for a moment. It was so unexpected.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Your power called to me, ma petite. No dead in the city could fail to feel your power tonight. And I am the city, so I came to investigate.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I saw you kill the men. I saw you raise the graveyard.”
“Did it ever occur to you to help me?”
“You did not need any help.” He smiled, barely visible in the moonlight. “Besides, would it not have been tempting to rend me to pieces, as well?”
“You can’t possibly be afraid of me,” I said.
He spread his hands wide.
“You’re afraid of your human servant? Little ol’ moi?”
“Not afraid, ma petite, but cautious.”
He was afraid of me. It almost made some of this shit worthwhile.
I carried Wanda down the hill. She wouldn’t let Jean-Claude touch her. A choice of monsters.
40
DOMINGA SALVADOR MISSED her court date. Fancy that. Dolph had searched for me that night, after he discovered that Dominga had made bail. He had found my apartment empty. My answers about where I had gone didn’t satisfy him, but he let it go. What else could he do?
They found Gaynor’s wheelchair, but no trace of him. It’s one of those mysteries to tell around campfires. The empty, blood-coated wheelchair in the middle of the cemetery. They did find body parts in the caretaker’s house: animal and human. Only Dominga’s power had held the thing together. When she died, it died. Thank goodness. Theory was that the monster got Gaynor. Where the monster came from no one seemed to know. I was called in to explain the body parts, that’s how the police knew they’d once been attached.
Irving wanted to know what I really knew about Gaynor’s vanishing act. I just smiled and played inscrutable. Irving didn’t believe me, but all he had were suspicions. Suspicions aren’t a news story.
Wanda is waiting tables downtown. Jean-Claude offered her a job at The Laughing Corpse. She declined, not politely. She’d saved quite a bit of money from her “business.” I don’t know if she’ll make it or not, but with Gaynor gone, she seems free to try. She was a junkie whose drug of choice was dead. It was better than rehab.
By Catherine’s wedding the bullet wound was just a bandage on my arm. The bruises on my face and neck had turned that sickly shade of greenish-yellow. It