This Side of the Grave (Night Huntress, #5)(26)

Chapter Eleven

An hour and a half later, I sat on the sofa in the living room, petting a mastiff that thought he belonged on my lap instead of by my feet. If the dog weighed fifty pounds less, I would’ve let him, but he was bigger than I was.

Kira came into the room after a few minutes, her amber hair still wet from what had probably been a hasty shower. As a new vampire, she didn’t blush at what had obviously kept them from greeting us when we first arrived, but she was almost effusive in her offers to get us something to drink. Bones took a whiskey but I politely declined while hiding a smile. Good to know I wasn’t the only one who lacked the blasé attitude most vampires seemed to have about their sexual activities.

“Mencheres will be right down,” Kira said for the second time, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she glanced up at the staircase.

“How’s the Enforcer training going?” I asked her.

She brightened. The process that would eventually turn her into the vampiric version of a cop was Kira’s favorite subject.

“Good.” Then she laughed. “Though it would go better if Mencheres didn’t keep telekinetically flinging people across the room every time they punched me a little too hard. He says it’s an accidental slip of his power, but I’ll have to ban him from my combat practice, or I’ll never get past the first stage.”

Those poor bastards are lucky they still have their heads, I thought, even as I returned her smile. Mencheres batting them around a room was almost a love tap compared to what he’d do if he really thought Kira was being roughed up too much by her trainers.

“Bones, Cat. My apologies for keeping you waiting.”

Mencheres came into the room, his black hair also damp. He had on a long white garment that on a woman I’d call a shapeless dress, but on him somehow looked like a masculine form of leisure wear. He actually managed to sound sincere about keeping us waiting, too, even though I knew he wasn’t sorry in the least. Not that I minded. In fact, I was pretty happy about their earlier delay, considering what it resulted in.

“Grandsire.”

Bones rose, giving Mencheres a hug in greeting. I did, too, though with less affection than my husband. Recent events had Bones forgiving Mencheres for his sins of omission regarding my past, but I hadn’t quite gotten over all my grudge against him.

Though if I were honest, I’d admit that even if I had, Mencheres would still creep me out a bit. Despite Bones calling him Grandsire because Mencheres changed over the vampire who later turned Bones, appearance-wise, Mencheres looked like he was only in his early twenties. Appearances, however, were deceiving. Mencheres had been around longer than most civilizations existed, and his abilities were truly scary. I should know; I’d briefly absorbed some of those abilities after drinking his blood to aid my friends in a fight. It had knocked me out for a week straight afterward, my body fried from power overload. So some residual wariness around Mencheres wasn’t too unreasonable, in my opinion.

“Please, sit.” Mencheres gestured to the couch we’d recently vacated, playing the part of gracious host. His dog scooted closer as soon as I sat back down, putting his head in my lap for easier scratching access. Mencheres took a seat next to Kira, trailing his hand over her arm before returning his attention to us.

“I assume you’re here because you have new information regarding Apollyon?”

Some part of me was amused at how staid and proper all of us must look right now, perched on our opposing couches with our very somber expressions. Just a group of vampires discussing a supernaturally dangerous situation with all the solemnity and gothic dignity it deserved, recent sexual indulgences notwithstanding.

“Only thing new is there is nothing new,” Bones growled, taking a long swallow of his whiskey before continuing. “We’re on our way to New Orleans to speak with Marie. With luck, we’ll be able to convince her that Apollyon is as much of a threat to rational members of the ghoul nation as he is to us.”

Mencheres nodded thoughtfully. “Marie Laveau would indeed be a powerful ally for whoever can sway her loyalties.”

That was an understatement. The voodoo queen wasn’t just the master of a large line of ghouls; she also ruled over an entire city, a feat no other undead person I knew of had accomplished. Therefore, the thought of anyone “swaying” her allegiances made me let out a snort.

“Marie’s first loyalty is to herself, and if I were a betting woman, I’d say she’s already made up her mind whether she’s backing Apollyon or not. Our only shot is the fact that war would be bad for everyone involved, not just vampires. If Marie didn’t always insist on face-to-face meetings, we could save time by just asking her over the phone. Or texting her.”

Then the mental image of potentially getting a text from Marie reading “i kill u” made me laugh. Marie didn’t mince words once she’d determined a course of action, so I wouldn’t put such a thing past her.

Bones gave me an inquiring look, but I waved a hand.

“Never mind. Just my warped sense of humor. So, Mencheres, I don’t suppose you’ve had any recent visions about where Apollyon’s base of operations is, hmm? Or whether he’ll whip the ghouls into the same hysterical frenzy as last time?”

He opened his mouth, but Kira beat him to it, her aura sparking and eyes flashing green. “Don’t pressure him. He already feels guilty that he can’t see anything about this.”