This Side of the Grave (#5 Night Huntress)

The ghoul’s blue eyes met mine. He might look no older than me in human years, but to be strong enough to keep from babbling out his name,
rank, and serial number as soon as Bones began working on him, he had to be old.
“Majestic did not know our intent,” he said, calling Marie by the ostentatious name she preferred.
Bones cast a look at the sky. “It’ll be dawn soon. If I’m not in bed with my wife by then because I’m still dealing with your worthless arse, I’ll be in a
very foul mood. So you’d best reconsider lying to me. Else I’ll send her inside and do things to you that you’ll be too horrified to want to live through.”
I actually blanched at the coldness in Bones’s tone, not to mention the whole “send her inside” part, but Vlad’s mouth curled in what looked like
grudging appreciation.
“Majestic did not know,” the ghoul repeated, more emphatically this time. “We planned to leave the city afterward to avoid her wrath for striking a
guest without her permission.”
“Oh, she’d be right brassed off at you, if you’re telling the truth,” Bones agreed. Then his grip tightened ominously. “But I’m still not convinced. If
you’re not doing her bidding, who sent you?”
“We sent ourselves,” the ghoul rasped.
“Kitten.” Bones’s voice was so flat it was terrifying. “Go inside.”
“Now wait a minute,” I began, even as the ghoul shouted, “It’s true! We cannot allow Apollyon to incite our species to war!”
My brows rose at that. I’d assumed if Marie hadn’t sent him, he must be one of Apollyon’s ghouls, but it didn’t sound like he was a fan.
“Who’s we?” Bones asked, tracing his fingers almost delicately over the ghoul’s regenerating skin where Vlad had burned him. Even that light
touch generated a harsh gasp from the flesh-eater before he spoke.
“Those like me who know Apollyon seeks war for his own gain, not for any benefit to our species.” The ghoul tossed a hard look my way.
“Apollyon was denied his coup centuries ago when the other half-breed was killed, so now he forbids his supporters from harming her. If we’re to
stop him before his madness infects too many of my people, she must die.”
Bones crashed the ghoul’s skull into the driveway hard enough for a hunk of it to fly off, clattering like a grisly mini Frisbee not far from my feet. I
looked away, rubbing my temple with a sudden weariness that had nothing to do with the approaching dawn. It shouldn’t surprise me that more than
the vampire nation might seek my death to avoid war, but I hadn’t anticipated things to progress this far so soon. I’d also assumed Apollyon wanted
me dead. Silly me should have realized my death didn’t fit into his grand scheme of species dominance. No wonder his ghouls avoided Bones and
me when we were out trolling in Ohio. We were the safest vampires in the state, if Apollyon had forbidden his people from harming me.
“Why is Apollyon so convinced ghouls would win in a war against vampires, anyway?” I asked, still rubbing my temple. “No offense, but from what
I’ve seen, fangers have some distinct advantages over flesh-eaters.”
The ghoul still seemed a little dazed from the recent blow to his head, but he managed to answer me.
“Ghouls are harder to kill than vampires with your fragility to silver. But most importantly, since her sire is dead, Majestic no longer has loyalty to
the vampire world. Should the ghoul nation go to war, she will now side with her people instead of vampires.”
Vlad let out a short laugh. “Your brains must not have fully regenerated if you think one ghoul alone can win the war.”
“I don’t know if Majestic’s aid can cause us to win,” the ghoul replied, sounding as weary as I felt in that moment. “Apollyon believes it can. But my
brethren believe both sides would suffer unimaginable losses if we warred, and after that, how could anyone be considered a winner?”
A part of me empathized with the ghoul. He understood what a lot of people didn’t—that if you had to nearly destroy everyone on both sides to
win a war, then it wasn’t a victory. He wasn’t blindly driven by a lust for power like Apollyon; in fact, in his own twisted way, this ghoul and the others
from the hotel had been trying to save lives. I might not care for their strategy, but their motivations were far better than those of other hit men who’d
been after me.
“Aside from your dead mates back at the hotel, how many others make up this vigilante group of yours?” Bones asked, his expression still hard
as ever. A glance at Vlad revealed equal coldness. Looked like I was the only one feeling sorry for my would-be assassin.
The ghoul smiled. With the still-healing rent in his head, it wasn’t a pretty sight. “We were assigned to small groups, never knowing anyone
outside our immediate division so that if one of us were captured, we couldn’t betray our brothers.”
Great. Someone smart had masterminded this cadre of killers out for my head. Maybe I should add shopping for tombstones to my To Do list.
Was it Kennedy who said if an assassin was willing to give his or her life for a kill, there was no real way to defend against it? If so, he’d sadly had
his own theory proved, too.
“How did you know where we were?” Bones went on.
The ghoul’s gaze slid to me again. “We heard you were meeting with Majestic. We watched the airport, the docks, train station, and bridges.
There are only a limited number of ways into New Orleans. We followed you to the hotel when you rode in. Without your helmet, you were
recognizable, even if she was not.”