This Side of the Grave (#5 Night Huntress)
This Side of the Grave (#5 Night Huntress)
This Side of the Grave (#5 Night Huntress)
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<strong>the</strong>m and changes <strong>the</strong>m. They make good muscle. Got nowhere else to go, can’t talk, can’t write real well, so we know <strong>the</strong>y can’t betray us.”<br />
I thought I’d been furious before, but that didn’t compare to <strong>the</strong> rage filling me now. My hands trembled, <strong>the</strong> knife digging even higher into <strong>the</strong><br />
ghoul’s head. He screamed as much as he could with <strong>the</strong> blade in <strong>the</strong> way.<br />
“Cat.” Vlad’s voice was low but resonant. “Stop. We need him alive.”<br />
I knew <strong>the</strong> wisdom in that. Knew that if I killed <strong>the</strong> ghoul, we wouldn’t find out if he knew where Apollyon was, and that was vitally important<br />
information. But my mind felt frozen with <strong>the</strong> urge to destroy anyone who’d been a part <strong>of</strong> such a horrible practice, and my knife kept on its upward<br />
path into <strong>the</strong> ghoul’s skull. Dermot couldn’t have been more than seventeen when he was tortured, killed, and <strong>the</strong>n forced into this existence. The<br />
ghoul in front <strong>of</strong> me knew that. Allowed it to continue. He had to pay.<br />
“Cat!”<br />
My hand trembled again . . . and <strong>the</strong>n I yanked <strong>the</strong> knife out, twisting it in <strong>the</strong> process, savoring <strong>the</strong> scream <strong>the</strong> ghoul made. I moved away from<br />
him, taking in a deep, long breath to remind myself that I’d made <strong>the</strong> right decision. Information was more important than revenge. I chanted it in my<br />
mind like a litany until I began to feel stable.<br />
“Aren’t you supposed to be burning him to get more details?” I asked Vlad, my voice almost normal despite <strong>the</strong> anger still swelling in me.<br />
Vlad gave me an unfathomable look, <strong>the</strong> faintest smile hovering on his lips. “If you live long enough, Reaper, one day you might scare even me.”<br />
“Girl’s gotta have goals,” I replied shortly. “And he’s still not spilling where Apollyon is.”<br />
“No, he’s not, is he?” Then Vlad made a series <strong>of</strong> odd motions with his hands, but no fire emanated from <strong>the</strong>m.<br />
“Are you having performance issues?” I asked in surprise.<br />
“Bite your tongue,” Vlad said, with a snort. “I was seeing if Dermot understood sign language, but from <strong>the</strong> look on his face, it seems not.”<br />
I glanced at <strong>the</strong> young ghoul, who’d been watching Vlad’s hands with a sort <strong>of</strong> morbid fascination. He picks kids who are young, not too bright . .<br />
. <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r ghoul had said about Apollyon. Did Dermot know that <strong>the</strong>re was an entire language he could learn that required no verbal or written<br />
words? How trapped he must feel, forced into this life, and denied any real means to even communicate.<br />
“You’re going to be okay,” I said to Dermot. “We’re not going to hurt you, and you won’t have to live with those o<strong>the</strong>r people anymore, I promise.”<br />
A little voice inside told me that Bones wasn’t going to like what I intended, but I pushed it back. He might not like it, but he’d understand.<br />
Noise from dozens <strong>of</strong> cars combined with multiple groans as abruptly, <strong>the</strong> dialog from <strong>the</strong> four movies—and <strong>the</strong> exterior lights—cut <strong>of</strong>f. It didn’t<br />
take more than a second <strong>of</strong> dropping my mental shields to catch <strong>the</strong> internal grumbling from <strong>the</strong> moviegoers over <strong>the</strong> sudden power failure at <strong>the</strong><br />
drive-in.<br />
Even if I hadn’t heard that, <strong>the</strong> loud voice <strong>of</strong> someone with a bullhorn began apologizing for <strong>the</strong> inconvenience, promising rain check tickets for<br />
<strong>the</strong> next night. Must be <strong>the</strong> manager. From how calm he sounded, I guessed that Mencheres had had a little talk with him using <strong>the</strong> power in his<br />
gaze. O<strong>the</strong>rwise, I’d expect him to be far more glum about all <strong>the</strong> money driving out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ater and <strong>the</strong> promise <strong>of</strong> refunds later.<br />
Maybe I’d make an anonymous donation to this <strong>the</strong>ater. The manager shouldn’t have to take a financial hit just because warmongering,<br />
murderous ghouls had chosen this place to hold <strong>the</strong>ir get-toge<strong>the</strong>r.<br />
“Someone’s coming, and it’s not Mencheres,” Vlad said, jerking his head.<br />
I drew out ano<strong>the</strong>r knife as I headed in <strong>the</strong> direction he’d indicated, ducking to use <strong>the</strong> bushes as camouflage again. But when I was about twenty<br />
yards away, I caught familiar scents on <strong>the</strong> air, and my tenseness eased.<br />
The sight <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> vampires, one with gray streaks in his hair, <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r so skinny that <strong>the</strong> bones <strong>of</strong> his shoulders all but jutted through his shirt, only<br />
confirmed who <strong>the</strong>y were.<br />
“Ed. Scratch,” I called out, not raising my voice. “Over here.”<br />
I turned back around without waiting for <strong>the</strong>m, not wanting to leave Vlad alone for long with <strong>the</strong> ghouls. Granted, <strong>the</strong> odds <strong>of</strong> Vlad being overcome<br />
were about nil, but <strong>the</strong> odds that he might decide to torch one—or both—<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m in my absence were much higher.<br />
To my relief, both Dermot and <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r ghoul were still alive when I jogged back to Vlad, though in <strong>the</strong> few minutes that I’d been gone, <strong>the</strong><br />
scarred ghoul looked like he’d passed through a volcano. Mencheres must have dropped his power from him, because he was on <strong>the</strong> ground,<br />
Vlad’s booted foot over his mouth. Must be why I hadn’t heard any yelling even though he’d obviously been burned.<br />
“He doesn’t appear to know where Apollyon is,” Vlad stated. “I’m not surprised. Apollyon would have to be an idiot to tell where he was to anyone<br />
in a group such as this. They report in and receive instructions by e-mail. I have <strong>the</strong> address and passwords.”<br />
Ed and Scratch appeared behind me in <strong>the</strong> next moment, one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m letting out a slow whistle as <strong>the</strong>y took in <strong>the</strong> slain bodies that were still held<br />
upright, plus <strong>the</strong> still-alive, burnt ghoul under Vlad’s foot.