This Side of the Grave (Night Huntress, #5)(2)

“Rested enough, luv?” Bones asked.

“Um hmm,” I murmured, stretching. I’d fallen asleep shortly after dawn, but it hadn’t been the instant unconsciousness that had plagued me for my first weeks as a vampire. I’d grown out of that, to my relief.

“We’d best get moving, then,” he said.

Right. We had places to be, as usual.

“The only thing I regret about stopping to catch some sleep here is the lack of a normal shower,” I sighed.

Bones snorted in amusement. “Come now, the river’s very refreshing.”

At forty degrees, “refreshing” was a kind way to describe the cave’s version of indoor plumbing. Bones moved the stone slab out of the way so we could exit the alcove, putting it back before my kitty could leap out, too.

“The trick is to jump in,” he went on. “Taking it slow doesn’t make it any easier.”

I swallowed a laugh. That advice could also apply to navigating the undead world. All right. One leap into a freezing river, coming up.

Then it was time to get to the real reason why we’d come to Ohio. With luck, nothing was going on in my old home state except for a few random cases of fang-on-fang violence.

I doubted it, but I could still hope.

The afternoon sun was still high in the sky by the time Bones and I arrived at the fountain of the Easton mall. Well, a street away from it. We had to make sure that this wasn’t a trap. Bones and I had a lot of enemies. Two recent vampire wars will do that, not to mention our former professions.

I didn’t sense any excessive supernatural energy except a smaller tingle of power in the air that denoted one, maybe two younger vampires mixed in with the crowd. Still, neither Bones nor I moved until a hazy, indistinct form flew across the parking lot and into our rental car.

“Two vampires are at the fountain,” Fabian, the ghost I’d sort of adopted, stated. His outline solidified until he looked more like a person and less like a thick particle cloud. “They didn’t notice me.”

Even though that was the goal, Fabian sounded almost sad at that last part. Unlike humans, vampires could see ghosts, but by and large they ignored them. Being dead didn’t mean people automatically got along.

“Thanks, mate,” Bones said. “Keep a lookout to make certain they don’t have any unpleasant surprises waiting for us.”

Fabian’s features blurred until his entire body disappeared.

“We were only supposed to meet with one vampire,” I mused. “What do you think of our contact having a buddy with him?”

Bones shrugged. “I think he’d better have a bloody good reason for it.”

He got out of the car. I followed suit, giving the silver knives concealed by my sleeves a slight, reassuring pat. Never leave home without them was my motto. True, vampires were keen on protecting the secrecy of their race and this was a crowded, public place, but that didn’t guarantee safety. The knives didn’t, either, but they sure tipped the odds in our favor. So did the other two vampires parked farther down the street, ready to jump into action if this turned out to be something other than a fact-gathering chat.

Scents assailed me as I approached the courtyard fountain. Perfumes, body odor, and various chemicals were the strongest, but underneath was another layer I’d gotten better at deciphering: emotions. Fear, greed, desire, anger, love, sadness . . . all those manifested in scents that ranged from sweetly aromatic to bitterly rancid. Not surprisingly, unpleasant emotions had the harsher aromas. Case in point: The vampires seated on the concrete bench both had the rotten-fruit smell of fear emanating from them, even before Bones gave them a quelling glare.

“Which one of you is Scratch?” he asked in a crisp voice.

The one with gray streaks in his hair stood up. “I am.”

“Then you can stay, but he”—Bones paused to give a short jerk of his head at the other, skinny vampire—“can leave.”

“Wait!” Scratch’s voice lowered and he moved closer to Bones. “That thing you’re here to talk to me about? He might have some information on it.”

Bones glanced at me. I lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “May as well hear what our unexpected guest has to say,” I commented.

“I’m Ed,” the vampire spoke up, with a nervous look over Bones’s shoulder at me. “Scratch didn’t tell me he was meeting you guys here.”

From Ed’s expression, I guessed that between my crimson hair, the large red diamond on my finger, Bones’s English accent, and the tingling aura of power he emanated, Ed had figured out who we were.

“That’s because he didn’t know,” Bones answered coolly. His emotions, accessible to me ever since the day Bones changed me, were now locked down behind the impenetrable wall he used in public. Still, anyone could pick up on the edge to his voice as he went on.

“I take it introductions aren’t necessary?”

Scratch’s gaze slid to me and then skipped away. “No,” he muttered. “You’re Bones, and that’s the Reaper.”

Bones’s expression didn’t soften, but I smiled in my best “I’m not going to kill you” way.

“Call me Cat, and why don’t we find some shade where we can talk?”

The sun’s rays weren’t lethal to vampires as mythology claimed, but we were easily sunburned. Expending some of our supernatural energy just to heal from the strong summer rays was pointless. A French restaurant with outdoor seating was nearby, so the four of us found a table under an umbrella and sat down as if we were old friends catching up.