THIRTEEN 1 page

Destined for an Early Grave Night Huntress Series, Book 4 Jeaniene Frost

To my sister Jeanne,

who had the courage to walk away

and the strength not to go back.

ONE

IF HE CATCHES ME, I’M DEAD.

I ran as fast as I could, darting around trees, tangled roots, and rocks in the forest. The monster snarled as it chased me, the sound closer than before. I wasn’t able to outrun it. The monster was picking up speed while I was getting tired.

The forest thinned ahead of me to reveal a blond vampire on a hill in the distance. I recognized him at once. Hope surged through me. If I could reach him, I’d be okay. He loved me. He’d protect me from the monster. Yet I was still so far away.

Fog crept up the hill to surround the vampire, making him appear almost ghostly. I screamed his name as the monster’s footsteps got even closer. Panicked, I lunged forward, narrowly avoiding the grasp of bony hands that would pull me down to the grave. With renewed effort, I sprinted toward the vampire. He urged me on, snarling warnings at the monster, which wouldn’t stop chasing me.

“Leave me alone,” I screamed, as I was seized from behind in a merciless grip. “No!”

“Kitten!”

The shout didn’t come from the vampire ahead of me; it came from the monster wrestling me to the ground. I jerked my head toward the vampire in the distance, but his features blurred into nothingness, and the fog covered him. Right before he disappeared, I heard his voice.

“He is not your husband, Catherine.”

A hard shake evaporated the last of the dream, and I woke to find Bones, my vampire lover, hovering over me.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

An odd question, you would think, since it had only been a nightmare. But with the right power and magic, sometimes nightmares could be turned into weapons. A while back, I’d almost been killed by one. This was different, however. No matter how vivid it felt, it had just been a dream.

“I’ll be fine if you quit shaking me.”

Bones dropped his hands and let out a noise of relief. “You didn’t wake up, and you were thrashing on the bed. Brought back rotten memories.”

“I’m okay. It was a…weird dream.”

There was something about the vampire in it that nagged me. Like I should know who he was. That made no sense, however, since he was just a figment of my imagination.

“Odd that I couldn’t catch any of your dream,” Bones went on. “Normally your dreams are like background music to me.”

Bones was a Master vampire, more powerful than most vampires I’d ever met. One of his gifts was the ability to read human minds. Even though I was half‑human, half‑vampire, there was enough humanity in me that Bones could hear my thoughts unless I worked to block him. Still, this was news to me.

“You can hear my dreams ? God, you must never get any quiet. I’d be shooting myself in the head if I were you.”

Which wouldn’t do much to him, actually. Only silver through the heart or decapitation was lethal to a vampire. Getting shot in the head might take care of my ills the permanent way, but it would just give Bones a nasty headache.

He settled himself back onto the pillows. “Don’t fret, luv. I said it’s like background music, so it’s rather soothing. As for quiet, out here on this water, it’s as quiet as I’ve experienced without being half‑shriveled in the process.”

I lay back down, a shiver going through me at the mention of his near miss with death. Bones’s hair had turned white from how close he’d come to dying, but now it was back to its usual, rich brown color.

“Is that why we’re drifting on a boat out in the Atlantic? So you could have some peace and quiet?”

“I wanted some time alone with you, Kitten. We’ve had so little of that lately.”

An understatement. Even though I’d quit my job leading the secret branch of Homeland Security that hunted rogue vampires and ghouls, life hadn’t been dull. First we’d had to deal with our losses from the war with another Master vampire last year. Several of Bones’s friends–and my best friend Denise’s husband, Randy–had been murdered. Then there had been months of hunting down the remaining perpetrators of that war, so they couldn’t live to plot against us another day. Then training my replacement so that my uncle Don had someone else to play bait when his operatives went after the misbehaving members of undead society. Most vampires and ghouls didn’t kill when they fed, but there were those who killed for fun. Or stupidity. My uncle made sure those vampires and ghouls were taken care of–and that ordinary citizens weren’t aware they existed.

So when Bones told me we were taking a boat trip, I’d assumed there must be some search‑and‑destroy reason behind it. Going somewhere just for relaxation hadn’t happened, well, ever in our relationship.

“This is a weekend getaway?” I couldn’t keep the disbelief out of my voice.

He traced his finger on my lower lip. “This is our vacation, Kitten.”

I was still dumbfounded at the notion. “What about my cat?” I’d set him up for enough food for a couple of days, but not for an extended trip.

“No worries. I’ve sent someone to our house to look after him. We can go anywhere in the world and take our time getting there. So tell me, where shall we go?”

“Paris.”

I surprised myself saying it. I’d never had a burning desire to visit there before, but for some reason, I did now. Maybe it was because Paris was supposed to be the city of lovers, although just looking at Bones was usually enough to get me in a romantic mood.

He must have caught my thought because he smiled, making his face more breathtaking, in my opinion. Against the backdrop of the navy sheets, his skin almost glowed with a silky alabaster paleness that was too perfect to be human. The sheets were tangled past his stomach, giving me an uninterrupted view of his lean, taut abdomen and hard, muscled chest. Dark brown eyes began to tinge with emerald, and fangs peeked under the curve of his mouth, letting me know I wasn’t the only one feeling warmer all of a sudden.

“Paris it is, then,” he whispered, and flung the sheets off.

“…we’ll be arriving shortly. Yes, she’s very well, Mencheres. Faith, you’ve rung me nearly every day…right, I’ll see you at the dock.”

Bones hung up and shook his head. “Either my grandsire is concealing something, or he’s developed an unhealthy obsession with your every activity.”

I stretched out in the hammock on the deck. “Let me talk to him next time. I’ll tell him things have never been better.”

The past three weeks had indeed been wonderful. If I’d needed a vacation, Bones had needed it more. As Master of a large line and co‑Master of an even bigger one, Bones was always watched, judged, challenged, or busy protecting his people. All that responsibility had taken its toll. Only in the past few days had he relaxed enough to sleep longer than his usual few hours.

There was just one black spot on this pleasure cruise, but I’d kept it to myself. Why ruin our time off by telling Bones I’d had more of those silly, meaningless dreams?

This time, they went unnoticed by him. Guess I wasn’t kicking in my sleep anymore. I couldn’t remember much of them when I woke. All I knew was they were about the same faceless blond vampire from the first one. The one who called me by my real name, Catherine, and ended with the same cryptic admonition–he is not your husband.

According to human laws, Bones wasn’t my husband. We were blood‑bound and married vampire‑style, though, and the undead didn’t do divorce. They weren’t kidding about the whole “until death do you part” thing. Maybe my dreams represented a subconscious desire to have a traditional wedding. The last time we’d attempted that, our plans were demolished by a war with a vampire who thought unleashing deadly black magic was fair game.

Mencheres met us on the dock. Even though Bones called him grandsire, since Mencheres was the sire of the vampire who’d turned Bones, he looked as young as Bones. They’d probably been similar in human age when they were turned into vampires. Mencheres was also handsome in an exotic way, with a regal bearing, Egyptian features, and long black hair blowing in the breeze.

But what really caught my attention was how Mencheres was flanked by eight Master vampires. Even before I stepped off the boat, I could feel their combined power crackling the air like static electricity. Sure, Mencheres usually traveled with an entourage, but these looked like guards, not undead groupies.

Bones went up to Mencheres and gave him a brief clasp.

“Hallo, grandsire. They can’t be all for show”–he nodded to the waiting vampires–“so I expect there’s trouble.”

Mencheres nodded. “We should leave. This ship is announcement enough of your presence.”

Reaper was painted in scarlet letters across the side of the boat. It was in homage to my nickname, the Red Reaper, which I’d earned because of my hair color and my high undead body count.

Mencheres didn’t speak to me beyond a short, polite hello as we trotted from the pier into a waiting black van. There was another identical van that six of the guards got into. When we sped off, that van followed us at a close distance.

“Tell me about your dreams, Cat,” Mencheres said as soon as we were under way.

I gaped at him. “How do you know about that?”

Bones also looked taken aback. “I didn’t mention it, Kitten.”

Mencheres ignored both of our questions. “What was in your dream? Be very specific.”

“They’re strange,” I began, seeing Bones’s eyebrows shoot up at the plural. “They’re all with the same vampire. During the dreams, I know who he is. I can even hear myself saying his name, but when I wake up, I don’t remember him.”

If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said Mencheres looked alarmed. Of course, I was no expert on him. Mencheres was over four thousand years old and a genius at hiding his emotions, but his mouth might have stiffened a fraction. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“How many of these dreams have you had?” Bones asked. He wasn’t happy. The way his lips thinned was no accident of light.

“Four, and don’t start. You’d have set sail for the nearest fortress if I’d told you about them, then you would have hovered over me day and night. We were having a really nice trip, so I didn’t mention them. No big deal.”

He snorted. “No big deal, she says. Well, luv, let’s find out what the deal really is. With luck, it won’t result in your losing your reckless life.”

Then he turned to Mencheres. “You knew something was wrong. Why the hell didn’t you bring it to my attention at once?”

Mencheres leaned forward. “Cat’s life is in no danger. However, there is a…situation. I’d hoped this conversation would never become necessary.”

“Could you just spit it out without a buildup for once?” Mencheres was famous for taking his time beating around the bush. Guess being as old as he was, he’d learned an obscene amount of patience.

“Have you ever heard of a vampire named Gregor?”

Pain shot through my head for an instant, then it was gone so fast, I actually looked around to see if anyone else was affected. Mencheres stared at me like he was trying to scope out the back of my brain. Beside me, Bones ground out a curse.

“I know a few Gregors, but there’s only one who’s called the bloody Dreamsnatcher.” His fist slammed down, snapping the armrest off. “This is what you consider acceptable standards of safety for my wife?”

“I’m not your wife.”

Bones swung a disbelieving look my way even as my hand flew to my mouth. Where in the hell did that come from?

“What did you just say?” Bones asked incredulously.

Stunned, I stammered.

“I‑I meant…in my dreams, the one thing I can remember is this vampire telling me ‘he is not your husband.’ And I know he means you, Bones. So that’s what I meant.”

Bones looked like I’d just stabbed him, and Mencheres had that cool, hooded expression on his face. Giving nothing away.

“You know, it always seems that when things are going really well between us, you come along to fuck it all up!” I burst at Mencheres.

“You chose to come to Paris, of all places,” Mencheres replied.

“So what? Got something against the French?” I felt a surge of irrational anger toward him. Inside me, a scream built. Why can’t you just leave us alone!

Then I shook it off. What was wrong with me? Was I having a crazy case of PMS or something?

Mencheres rubbed his forehead. Those finely molded features were in profile as he looked away.

“Paris is a beautiful city. Enjoy it. See all the sights. But don’t go anywhere unaccompanied, and if you dream of Gregor again, Cat, do not let him lay hands on you. If you see him in your dreams, run away.”

“Um, no way are you going to get away with that vague, ‘have a nice day’ crap,” I said. “Who is Gregor, why am I dreaming about him, and why is he called the Dreamsnatcher?”

“More importantly, why has he surfaced now to seek her out?” Bones’s voice was cold as ice. “Gregor hasn’t been seen or heard from in over a decade. I thought he might be dead.”

“He’s not dead,” Mencheres said a trifle grimly. “Like me, Gregor has visions of the future. He intended to alter the future based on one of these visions. When I found out about it, I imprisoned him as punishment.”

“And what does he want with my wife ?”

Bones emphasized the words while arching a brow at me, as if daring me to argue. I didn’t.

“He saw Cat in one of his visions and decided he had to have her,” Mencheres stated in a flat tone. “Then he discovered she’d be blood‑bound to you. Around the time of Cat’s sixteenth birthday, Gregor intended to find her and take her away. His plan was very simple–if Cat had never met you, then she’d be his, not yours.”

“Bloody sneaking bastard,” Bones ground out, even as my jaw dropped. “I’ll congratulate him on his cleverness–while I’m ripping silver through his heart.”

“Don’t underestimate Gregor,” Mencheres said. “He managed to escape my prison a month ago, and I still don’t know how. Gregor seems to be more interested in Cat than in getting revenge against me. She’s the only person I know whom Gregor’s contacted through dreams since he’s been out.”

Why do these crazy vampires keep trying to collect me? My being one of the only known half‑breeds had been more of a pain than it was worth. Gregor wasn’t the first vampire who thought it would be neat to keep me as some sort of exotic toy, but he did win points for cooking up the most original plan to do it.

“And you locked Gregor up for a dozen years just to keep him from altering my future with Bones?” I asked, my skepticism plain. “Why? You didn’t do much to stop Bones’s sire, Ian, when he tried the same thing.”

Mencheres’s steel‑colored eyes flicked from me to Bones. “There was more at stake,” he said at last. “If you’d never met Bones, he might have stayed under Ian’s rule longer, not taking Mastership of his own line, and then not being co‑Master of mine when I needed him. I couldn’t risk that.”

So it hadn’t been about preserving true love at all. Figures. Vampires seldom did anything with purely altruistic motives.

“What happens if Gregor touches me in my dreams?” I asked, moving on. “What then?”

Bones answered me, and the burning intensity in his gaze could have seared my face.

“If Gregor takes ahold of you in your dreams, when you wake, you’ll be wherever he is. That’s why he’s called the Dreamsnatcher. He can steal people away in their dreams.”

TWO

I ’D ARGUED, OF COURSE. BOTH MEN GAVE ME looks that said how stupid it was to debate something they knew for a fact. Gregor’s ability normally just worked with humans, since vampires and ghouls had a supernatural mind control that prevented such subconscious kidnappings. But since I was a half‑breed, it was possible that Gregor’s trick would work on me, too.

Wait until I told my uncle that there was a vampire who could do this. He’d shit himself.

“Gregor will attempt to coerce you in your dreams,” Mencheres said in parting. “You would do well to ignore anything he says and to wake yourself up as quickly as possible.”

“You can bet your ass on that,” I muttered. “By the way, what’s the significance of Paris? You said we’d chosen to come to Paris like that was significant.”

“Gregor is French,” was Mencheres’s reply. “You chose to visit his home of nearly nine centuries. I doubt that’s a coincidence.”

I bristled. “What are you implying?”

“The obvious,” Bones said, almost yanking on my arm as we walked up to a picturesque chalet partially concealed by clinging vines. “Gregor told you to come here.”

We were greeted by a lovely French couple, both vampires, who met us at the entrance with welcoming words I didn’t understand. Bones spoke to them in the same language, his accent sounding as authentic as theirs.

“You didn’t tell me you knew French,” I murmured.

“You didn’t tell me you’d had multiple dreams,” he shot back in English.

He was still pissed. I sighed. At least we’d had a couple of peaceful weeks between us.

Introductions in English were made. Sonya and her husband, Noel, were our hosts for our stay in Paris.

“You’re married?” I asked in surprise, then flushed. “I didn’t mean to sound so shocked, I just–”

“You’re the first bonded vampire couple she’s met, mes amis ,” Bones smoothly filled in. “I think she was starting to believe she had a monopoly on the status.”

They both laughed, and the awkward moment passed. Sonya never even batted an eye at the half dozen vampires who took up position around the perimeter of her home.

They showed us to our room, with views of the surrounding gardens. Sonya was a horticulturist. Her gardens could have been used as a blueprint for Eden.

“Diligence and patience, ma chérie ,” she said when I complimented her. “All things can benefit from the proper application of both.”

She eyed Bones in a pointed way after she said it, letting me know she hadn’t missed his earlier curt comment.

“My dear Sonya, I’ll try to remember that,” he replied dryly.

“You’ll want to refresh yourselves and settle in, of course. Cat, there is fruit, cheese, and chilled wine. Bones, should I send someone up for you now, or later?”

“Later. First I must speak with my wife.”

Again, his tone held a note of challenge when he said those two words. Sonya and Noel left. Before their footsteps faded away, Bones started in on me.

“Blast it, Kitten, I believed we were past this, yet once again you’ve decided what I can and cannot handle without discussing it with me.”

Some of my remorse left me at his accusing tone. “I thought it was nothing, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Nothing? That’s a fine way to describe a notorious vampire’s attempts to steal you straight from our bed.”

“I didn’t realize that’s what was happening!”

“You knew something was off, but you hid it from me. I thought you’d learned six years ago that hiding things from me was a mistake.”

That was a low blow. Several months after we met, my inhuman status was blown when I was arrested for killing the governor of Ohio. I didn’t know that Don, the FBI agent who interrogated me, was the brother of my deadbeat vampire father, who’d only impregnated my mother because he’d had sex with her so soon after turning. I also hadn’t known that Don had been aware since my birth that I was a half‑breed. I’d just thought Don was a high‑ranking FBI agent who knew about vampires–and who’d kill Bones if I didn’t take his offer to join Don’s elite secret team.

So I tricked Bones and went away with Don, believing it was the only way to save his life. Bones didn’t take being left behind very well. It took him over four years, but he found me, then he showed me how wrong I had been in thinking it was impossible for us to be together. I still had horrible guilt over what I’d done, and here he’d just shoved a hot poker in that old wound.

“How long are you going to punish me for that? If your last comment is any indicator, I guess I’ll have this thrown up at me for years.”

Some of the anger went out of his face. He ran a hand through his hair, giving me a frustrated–but less damning–look.

“Do you have any idea what I would have gone through, waking up to find you vanished without a trace? It would have driven me mad, Kitten.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If I thought Bones could disappear on me in his sleep, taken by a strange vampire for unknown purposes, I’d lose all semblance of rationality, too. Get it together, Cat. Now’s not the time to keep score on remarks neither of you means.

“Let’s try to get past this, okay? I should have told you about the dreams. If they happen again, I’ll tell you as soon as I wake up. Scout’s honor.”

He came to me, gripping my shoulders. “I couldn’t stand to lose you like that, Kitten.”

I covered his hands with mine. “You won’t. I promise.”

The Palais Garnier Opera house was extravagant in every detail, with an antique, old‑world architecture that only came from being old‑world. Sonya and Noel went with us, as well as our protective entourage. Bones was taking no chances of Gregor’s showing up to crash the fun.

This was my first opera. Usually I didn’t get to wear a pretty dress without someone to kill, but unless the opera was far more graphic than the brochure detailed, that wasn’t happening tonight.

Bones received so many admiring looks on our way to the gilded entrance that my hand tightened on his. Granted, he looked spectacular in his black tuxedo, a white silk scarf draped around his neck, but did women have to stare? Most of the time, I pinched myself over his glittering gorgeousness, not quite believing someone so stunning could belong to me. Sometimes, however, the lustful glances thrown his way made me wish he wasn’t such a damned bowl of eye candy.

“They’re not staring at me, pet,” Bones murmured. “They’re looking at you. As I am.”

I smiled at the leer he gave me. “It’s just the dress,” I teased. “The way it drapes makes my hips and boobs look bigger.”

The vermillion taffeta gown did have extra swaths across my chest, hiding the light boning that held the strapless dress up. Then those swaths gathered at my hips before fanning out in a fishtail at the bottom of the long, narrow skirt. It was the fanciest thing I’d ever worn.

Bones gave a low chuckle. “I can’t stop wondering how I’m going to take you whilst you’re in it. Right now I’ve decided on from behind, although that may change by the end of the opera.”

“Why did we go to this if you’ll just be mentally molesting me and not watching the performance?”

“Because that’s right fun in itself,” he responded with a wicked grin. “I’ll enjoy imagining all the things I’m going to do to you once we’re alone.”

Then he became more serious, and the gleam left his eyes. “Actually, I thought we’d see the opera, have a late supper, then stretch our legs exploring the city. Although we’ll have our escorts following us, they shouldn’t need to be strapped to our backsides, I suspect. Would you like that?”

My mouth dropped. Walking around without full body armor and a highly armed squad at my elbow? Just sightseeing, like normal people?

“Oui, sí, any language the word for yes is in. Please tell me you’re not about to say ‘psyche’.”

“I’m not. The performance is about to start; let’s find our seats.”

“Okay.”

“Very agreeable, aren’t you?” That sly tone was back in his voice. “I’ll take advantage of it later.”

When the curtain came down at intermission, I knew three things: I loved the opera, I wanted a drink, and I had to pee.

“I’m going with you,” Bones announced, when I voiced my bathroom necessity.

I rolled my eyes. “They have rules about that.”

“I have to freshen my lipstick, Cat, would you mind if I accompany you?” Sonya asked. “Bones, you could fetch some champagne, I’d love a glass as well. It’s across from the facilities, so you’ll have no trouble finding us.”

The translation was obvious. Bones would be close in case there was trouble of any kind, be it misguided dream suitor or murderous undead opera buff, and I’d have a bodyguard.

He nodded. “I can escort you. That’s not being overprotective. It’s only mannerly.”

“Sure.” My lips twitched. “Whatever you say.”

There was a long line at the ladies’ room. Bones let out an amused snort when he saw my speculative glance at the empty entrance to the men’s facilities.

“They have rules about that,” he mocked.

“I know all these chicks aren’t waiting to let out their bladders, they should have a separate makeup room so the rest of us can pee,” I grumbled, then turned to Sonya apologetically. “Um, I didn’t mean you. Just ignore everything I say, we’ll both be better off.”

She laughed. “I know what you meant, chérie . Often I’ve thought the same myself, since the latrines have been of no use to me for a long time.”

“Bring me some liquor, Bones, fast, to take my foot out of my mouth.”

He kissed my hand. “I’ll see you back here.”

When he walked away, I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the view of him leaving.

“Mmm hmmm.”

The low exhalation came from a brunette farther up in line. I gave her an arched brow and tapped my engagement ring for effect.

“Taken, honey.”

She was human, or I’d have thrown down at the second lingering look she gave Bones before shrugging at me.

“Nothing lasts forever.”

My teeth ground. “Except death.”

Sonya said something in French that made the woman’s mouth curl sulkily before she turned away with a last parting shot.

“If you can’t stand for your man to be admired, you would do better to keep him at home.”

With her heavy French accent, her h’s were almost silent. You can’t kill her just because she’s a tramp, I reminded myself. Even if you could have her body discreetly disposed of…

“He fucks even better than he looks,” I settled on saying. Several heads turned. I didn’t care; I was pissed. “And that beautiful face is going to be clamped between my legs as soon as we get ooome, don’t you worry.”

From the crowd at the bar, I heard Bones laugh. Sonya chuckled. The woman gave me a venomous glare and stepped out of line.

“Bon, one less person in front of us, we’ll be finished before he has our drinks,” Sonya observed when she quit laughing.

“One down.” I eyed the line of women, most of whom either smiled or avoided my gaze due to that little scene. “About a dozen more to go.”

Ten minutes later when we entered the bathroom, I was trying not to hop on one leg in impatience. It had been all I could do to wait my turn and not have Sonya use vampire mind control to get the other women out of my way, but that wouldn’t have been fair.

When I came out, Sonya was putting her lipstick back in her small clutch bag. I joined her by the mirror to wash my hands.

“Small world,” someone said to my right.

I turned, noticing a cute blonde staring at me. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t remember me?” She shook her head. “It was a while ago. I wasn’t even sure it was you until you snapped at that woman, but your coloring stands out. Plus, you were antsy the first time we met, too.”

From her accent, she was American. And I’d never seen her before in my life.

“I’m sorry, you have the wrong person.” After all, I was good at placing people. Half‑vampire memory skills, and it had come with my old job.

“It was at the Ritz on Place Vendôme, remember?” I still shook my head. She sighed. “No big deal. Sorry it didn’t work out with the other guy, but you seem to have traded up, so good for you.”

“Huh?”

Now I was wondering if she was crazy. Sonya moved closer to me. The girl dabbed powder on her nose before tucking her compact back in her purse.

“You looked way too young to get married anyway, so I don’t blame you–”

“Huh ?” With open incredulity.

She sighed. “Never mind. Nice to see you again.”

She left the bathroom. Sonya started to grab her when I muttered, “Don’t bother. She’s just got the wrong person.”

Pain went off in my head, like little needles were jabbing at my brain. I rubbed my temples.

“Are you well, chérie ?” Sonya asked.

“Fine. She had the wrong person,” I repeated. “After all, this is my first trip to Paris.”

We walked along the Rue de Clichy with our bodyguards trailing several paces behind us. I’d opted against a full dinner and just had a croissant and cappuccino at one of the many charming cafés lining the streets.

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 488