Unbound

  9

  Bones walked up the street to Becca’s salon. He’d tried her cell earlier, but she didn’t answer. She was probably annoyed with him for what she’d think was his disappearing last night. Or she was busy with customers and hadn’t been able to get to her phone. Either way, he thought a gesture was in order, so he’d picked up a dozen roses on his way.

  And just in case Ralmiel was on a roof sighting down a crossbow on him, Bones was wearing a Kevlar vest underneath his shirt and coat. Let Ralmiel try to shoot an arrow through that. The next time that scurvy bugger pulled a Houdini and popped up, Bones intended to separate his head from his shoulders. If he could kill Delphine and Louis at the same time, he’d consider it a capital evening.

  Bones was a few shops down from the salon when he smelled it. He inhaled just to make sure, then quickened his pace, running the short distance to the salon and flinging open the door.

  The girl behind the counter looked up in surprise. Bones ignored her, stalking through the salon and yanking open every closed door, much to the consternation of a customer getting a massage in the back room.

  “Becca’s not here,” the girl called out.

  Bones stalked over, letting the roses drop to the floor as he grabbed her.

  “When did she leave? Was she alone?”

  “Hey, not so rough,” she protested.

  Bones let her go and asked very precisely, “Where is Becca?”

  “She called in sick. Or she had her new roommate come in earlier to say that Becca wasn’t working today, but when you showed up, to tell you to come over for dinner. So I guess Becca can’t be that sick.”

  Even though he already knew, he had to confirm it. “This girl, what did she look like?”

  Shrug. “Black curly hair, thin, about my age. Had an accent, I think it was French…”

  Bones walked to the door. The girl continued to call after him.

  “Tell Becca she’s in trouble with our manager. It’s Mardi Gras, we can’t afford for her to just decide to take a day off.”

  Delphine hadn’t just run off last night. No, she’d doubled back and found Becca first.

  Once outside, Bones inhaled again, deeply. Even with the scent of countless people trampling through the air, he could still smell Delphine. It was if she’d deliberately rubbed against the side of the shop to make sure he smelled her. Bones walked across the street to stare up at the LaLauries’ old mansion. Then he went to the gate and took in another long breath.

  She’d been here, too. Again, the trail was so strong, it had to be deliberate. Delphine’s scent hadn’t been on it before, the many other times Bones had walked past this house. And now he could hear a heartbeat inside the normally empty mansion.

  Becca. Come over for dinner, Delphine had said, and she was making sure Bones knew where dinner would be held.

  A bitter smile twisted his mouth. No, Delphine. I’m not making it that easy for you. Ghouls are stronger during the day, while vampires are weaker. I’ll wait till after nightfall to accept your invitation. It’s not as if you have any intention of letting Becca go free once I arrive anyway, you murdering bitch.

  Bones turned on heel and walked away, wondering if Delphine or Louis was watching him.

  It was past nine when Bones came back. His coat was lined with several knives, both steel and silver. No telling whether Delphine and Louis might have vampiric help with them, so best to have all bases covered. He was still wearing the Kevlar vest underneath his shirt, even though it would slightly hinder his movements. Still, its benefit outweighed its liability.

  Bones stared at the LaLauries’ old house. Even with all the noise around him from partiers enjoying the last few days of Mardi Gras, if he concentrated, Bones could still faintly make out the heartbeat inside the house. True, that heartbeat might not be Becca’s, but she might yet be alive.

  Now for the last addition to his ensemble.

  Bones turned and walked into the reveling crowd, pulling out the first few people his hands laid on, dragging them from the thick of the merrymakers and hitting them with his gaze. The alcohol they’d consumed helped with that, since none of them could claim exceptional mental willpower at the moment. Bones didn’t care if anyone looking on bothered to wonder why his eyes were glowing green. Let them think it was a special effect from the Phantom of the Opera mask he had on, if they bothered to ponder it at all.

  After giving the three bespelled people their instructions, Bones went back into the crowd and pulled out another three, repeating the process. And then another three, then another, until he had more than a dozen obedient bystanders. Finally, Bones walked back down the street to stand on the corner in front of the house.

  The shadows around it were darker now, throbbing with the memory of suppressed rage from centuries ago. It was almost as if those shadows knew their former tormenters had returned. Bones took off his mask, then rolled his head around on his shoulders.

  “Now,” he told the waiting men and women at his back, and vaulted up into the air.

  Below him, they began walking to the front of the house and hurling things at it. Beer bottles, their shoes, their masks; whatever they could get into their hands, they flung it. Windows broke on the first and second floors, the sound drowned out by the yells and hollers from the people. They didn’t go within a dozen feet of the house, though. No, they stayed just far enough away so that anyone who wanted to stop them would have to come out and get them.

  Drawing out Delphine or Louis wasn’t the point. The racket they made while they smashed up the house was. Hidden behind the chimney on a nearby roof, Bones waited for his chance. When two windows smashed simultaneously, Bones sprang forward, streamlining his body and diving through the second floor windows.

  Bones rolled as soon as he hit the floor, staying low and searching the room, careful not to let any green shine from his eyes. He wasn’t going to make it easier for them to find him, if they’d determined the noise they’d just heard was him instead of more objects being hurled through the windows.

  The room was empty of all but furniture. Bones inhaled, trying to track Becca by scent, and then swore. The room stank of embalming fluid, a noxious scent that masked damn near everything else. Clever bastards, he thought. That was all right; he could still pick up the heartbeat as a beacon, though now that he was inside, it sounded like there were two heartbeats. Both in opposite directions from each other.

  He chose the one that sounded stronger. Since Becca was their most recent victim, it made sense that the other, fainter heartbeat belonged to someone the LaLauries had acquired before her. While Bones felt pity for that unknown person, Becca was his primary concern.

  He crept forward in a low crouch. The lights were off, not that ghouls needed illumination to see. There was no sound inside except for those heartbeats, his own stealthy movements, and the occasional smash from whatever item was still being flung at the windows.

  Yet Bones could feel the energy in the house. Delphine and Louis were here. Waiting. Whatever trap they’d set had been sprung as soon as Bones entered the house. Now all he could do was see it through to the end. Everyone’s got to die one day, Bones mused with grim determination. Come on, you sods. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to make today my day.

  10

  Bones edged down the hallway toward the sound of the heartbeat, careful to watch for any hint of an imminent attack. So far, he didn’t see anyone, but all his internal alarms were ringing. The trap would be where Becca was, true, but he couldn’t just abandon her. After all, it was his fault Delphine took her in the first place.

  The heartbeat was coming from the room at the end of the hall. Four menacing, open doorways stood between him and it. Bones pulled two knives from his coat, one steel, one silver. He gripped one in each hand as he kept low and moved forward. Come out, come out, wherever you are…

  Everything in him tensed as he crept up to the first door, his nerve endings anticipating a sudden slice of pain from a k
nife or other weapon. Bones sprang into the room, braced to counter an assault—but there was nothing. Just more furniture with dust covers over them and that noxious embalming odor that neutered his ability to track anything by scent.

  One down, three to go.

  Bones repeated the same routine with the next door. This time, he was hit in the face by a spiderweb, but nothing more threatening than that. The third room was empty, as was the fourth room, but the fourth room had blood in it. A lot of blood.

  Bones knelt by one of the wide, pooling spots, giving it a deep sniff. Even above the chemical fumes in the room, he knew it was Becca’s blood. Which meant the pieces of bones tossed almost casually in the corner were hers as well.

  He rose, the swell of killing anger in him making him calmer, not crazed. Bones approached the last room with the heartbeat just as slowly and cautiously as he had the others. If the LaLauries had thought the grisly display of their leftovers would have him dashing in with reckless abandon to save her, they were wrong.

  This room was empty of furniture except for one long, dark coffin where the heartbeat came from. Bones waited before entering, his senses tuned for any nuance of noise or movement. Nothing. Then again, a ghoul didn’t breathe, and could hold as still as a statue if need be. Delphine and Louis could both be in there, waiting for him.

  Bones dove into the room, rolling immediately to counter any frontal assault, the blades gripped in his hands seeking flesh to bury themselves into. Nothing. Not even a whisper, except for that steady heartbeat. The closet in the room had no doors, so no one was hiding in there, and unless Delphine or Louis had acquired Ralmiel’s dematerializing trick, they weren’t in this room.

  He approached the coffin, taking in another deep breath. There was the scent of the embalming fluid, Becca’s blood, and something else. Metallic, though too faint to decipher over the stink of the chemicals. Muffled noises consisting of mmph, mmphh! interspersed with ragged breathing from inside the coffin. Someone was alive in there. Gagged, from the sounds of it.

  Bones ran his hand along the coffin’s lid. This was too easy. Was Delphine in there with Becca, waiting to thrust silver in his heart as soon as Bones lifted the lid?

  If she was, she’d soon find out the futility of that.

  He cracked the lid, heard a faint click—and then flung himself away the instant before the blast. Silver fragments from the specialized bomb were embedded all over the back of him. So were the body parts of whichever unfortunate soul had been in that coffin. Only Bones’s Kevlar vest kept the ragged silver pieces from shredding his heart. For a stunned moment, he lay on the ground, mentally calculating his injuries. Then Delphine and Louis burst into the room, swinging away with silver knives.

  Bones staggered to his feet, wincing at the pain in his legs where chunks of flesh had been torn off by the bomb. His head was both ringing and throbbing; some silver must have embedded in his skull. He whirled, making the stab Louis aimed for his heart slice into his shoulder instead. But it was a mistake, since the blade pieced deeply into his skin when it would have only bounced off the Kevlar on his chest. Bones shook his head to clear it, mentally lashing himself. Quit being stupid, or you won’t have long to regret it.

  He’d lost the knives in his hands during the explosion. Bones received two more deep swipes before he could secure a blade and attack back. Louis LaLaurie was quick, dodging the blade and kicking Bones in the thigh, where a particularly large piece of silver was still lodged.

  It cost him a step as he spun again to avoid Delphine’s attack from behind. Her knife cleaved into his upper arm instead of through his neck. It bit deep, though, almost severing the limb. Delphine was strong, and she wasn’t fighting like a novice. She slashed at him while Louis attacked from the front. All the silver in his flesh was using up his strength as his body automatically attempted to heal itself—and heal the new injuries that were being inflicted, one after the other.

  Delphine and Louis forced him back, causing him to almost trip over a piece of rubble. His left arm, hanging by a few ligaments, took a few seconds to repair itself, but those seconds were costly. Bones couldn’t use the arm to fight, and Louis and Delphine were pressing their advantage. More silver hacked at him, until every inch of his body felt like was burning and his blood spattered the ground around them, weakening him further.

  Sensing victory was close, Delphine leaped onto his back, savagely tearing at him with both her teeth and her knives. Bones couldn’t dislodge her and keep Louis at bay. He couldn’t even get more of his knives, since Delphine had managed to rip his coat off in her rabid attack. He couldn’t reach the ones strapped to his legs, either, without Louis taking his head off as soon as Bones bent down.

  Louis smiled, feral and satisfied, as an upward swipe bit deep into Bones’s gut, making him hunch instinctively at the blast of agony. Delphine redoubled her efforts and focused on hacking at his neck, realizing she couldn’t penetrate the Kevlar on his back or chest.

  A blur in the corner of the room made Bones drop down on one knee. Louis let out a triumphant laugh, but Bones wasn’t kneeling in defeat. It was because he’d seen what Louis, with his back turned and his attention fixated on Bones, hadn’t noticed.

  Delphine saw it, too. She started to scream even as Bones sprang back, slamming both of them against the wall behind him—while a long, curved blade arced its way through Louis LaLaurie’s neck.

  Louis’s head turned to the right and kept going. It rolled off his shoulders even as he slumped forward, a dark, viscous hole facing Bones where his head used to be. Ralmiel held a red-smeared blade behind him.

  Delphine screamed again, in a piercing wail of rage and grief. Bones didn’t hesitate. He reached into his boots and pulled out the two oblong canisters they contained, ripping the tops off and stabbing them into her chest.

  The twin flares erupted, lighting her clothes on fire as they burned her from the inside out. Bones held on to them, pitilessly pushing them deeper. A ghoul’s body didn’t have enough blood in it to put them out. Delphine’s screams became frenzied, her legs and arms scissoring madly as she tried to escape. Bones pinned her to the floor, ignoring the licking flames on him as she continued to burn. He’d fed well before tonight; he wouldn’t burn as easily. The fire spread through Delphine’s body, splitting and blackening her skin faster than she could heal.

  Something savage in Bones made him want to prolong this. To keep shoving flares into Delphine and burning her until there was nothing left but ash, except there wasn’t time. Sirens wailed, getting louder. The police would be there soon. That bomb, though relatively small, hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  Bones pulled a long blade from his boot, letting Delphine see the gleam of the metal as he held it above her. Then Bones cut deeply through Delphine’s neck, feeling little satisfaction as her head rolled across the floor to stop at Louis’s decapitated corpse. After all the evil the two had committed, it was too quick and merciful an end for them.

  But Jelani, at last you have your vengeance.

  Ralmiel walked over to him and held out a hand. Bones, after a pause, took it and let the other vampire pull him to his feet.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be trying to kill me?”

  Ralmiel didn’t smile. He glanced at the ceiling and shook his head. “I came in by way of the attic and saw her. She doesn’t have much time.”

  Becca.

  Bones ran out of the room, following the sound of the other, fainter heartbeat. The explosion actually helped in this regard. The chunk it blew out of the hallway revealed a metal staircase inside the walls, Becca’s heartbeat sounding louder in there. Bones pulled back some of the drywall to slip through, then raced up the narrow stairs. He flung back the hatch at the top of the stairs that opened into a small, box-shaped room on top of the house’s roof.

  Becca was lying on a bench. Bones’s face twisted as one glance revealed the extent of her abuse. He knelt beside her, turning her head so she could see him.

  S
he was awake, though in her state, that was a curse instead of a blessing. Bones stared at her, letting the power in his eyes capture her mind. In her condition, it took a few moments. He waited, murmuring, “It’s all right, luv. You’re safe now,” until the horror and terror left her gaze and she quit trying to move or talk.

  She couldn’t do either, though. Her lips were sewn together with what looked like fishing line, and her arms and legs were gone. The only reason she was still alive was that Louis—or Delphine—had used some of their own blood to seal the gaping wounds left where her limbs used to be. What used to be her arms and legs were now hideously smooth stumps.

  Bones closed his eyes. He could save Becca’s life…by taking it. She wouldn’t survive the transition if he tried to turn into a vampire, but he could make her a ghoul. All it required was her drinking some of his blood before she died, and that wouldn’t be long. She was very near death as it was.

  He thought of Jelani. Of the ghoul’s admitted pain over trying to live as someone who would always be helpless compared to even the weakest of their kind. And Becca didn’t know there was another world that existed on the fringe of hers. How could Bones condemn her to wake up trapped in that body, changed into something she didn’t even know existed?

  A slow sigh came out of him, then he forced himself to smile. His gaze brightened while he harnessed all his energy into making Becca believe everything he was about to tell her.

  “It’s all right,” Bones said again, stroking her face. “You’re safe, Becca, and there’s no pain anymore. You’re not injured. You’re not even here. You’re in a beautiful field, flowers all around you. Can you see them, Becca?”

  She nodded, her features slipping into relaxed planes that were completely at odds with the ragged stitches around her mouth.

  “…you’re warm, and you’re lying on the ground looking up at the sky…look at it, Becca. See how blue it is…”