At Grave's End (Page 18)

I touched his face, wiping away those pink streaks. "It’s not your fault, Tate. No one saw this coming."

He grasped my hand. "I heard Max had gotten to you. I had to see for myself that you were all right."

Tate grabbed me, hugging me so hard, I knew I’d have bruises. He was probably unaware of it, not having had much time to get used to his new strength.

I pushed at him. "Tate…you’re squeezing me too hard."

He let me go so fast I almost staggered. "Oh Christ, I can’t do anything right!"

It hadn’t escaped my notice that my three vampire guards were very close by. Their energies coiled in the air, as if the snow, coal, and Western-themed vampires were just about to strike.

"Ease down, guys," I told them.

"You shouldn’t be so close to a new vampire," Rattler said. "It’s not safe."

Tate’s eyes went green. "Who the f**k are they?"

"Bones’s way of being overprotective. They’re my shadow until he gets here sometime later."

Annette cocked her head. "Is Crispin dealing with Max tonight?"

"Yep. And he thinks I wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing him at his vampy worst. But he had Cooper and my mother go along. He must figure they’re tougher than I am."

"Or more accurately, he doesn’t care what they think of him," Annette replied.

"Figures you’d take his side," I scoffed.

The icily blond Zero moved closer to Tate. I saw it and let out an annoyed sigh.

"For crying out loud, he’s not going to bite me, so back down."

"Your temper and scent are exciting him," Zero responded in a flat tone. "He’s too newly turned to restrain his hunger from such triggers for long."

I cast a glance back at Tate. His eyes were blistering emerald, and if I could see his aura, it would probably be sparking. Oh. Maybe Whitey had a point.

Tate snarled, "I’d never hurt her."

Don, who hadn’t said anything the last several minutes, spoke. "Then go back to the chamber and prove it."

Tate rounded on him before he seemed to catch himself. He took in a long scent of air and blew it out through his nose.

"You’re right. Everyone in this room with a pulse is starting to smell really good. Okay. Back in the box, better safe than sorry."

He brushed by me as he went, taking in another long, lingering breath. "You smell like honey and cream, Cat. I’m going to make myself breathe the rest of the night, just to catch another whiff of you on my skin."

Oh shit. Why did he have to say things like that?

Tick Tock’s hand went to the knife at his belt. Zero moved in front of me, almost stepping on my toes to do it. Rattler just shook his head.

"You’ll be dying twice, boy, if you keep talkin’ that way."

Tate gave him a cold look. "That gets scarier every time I hear it." Then he was gone, heading toward the elevators and the lowest level where his holding cell was.

I cleared my throat. "Well. At least that wasn’t awkward."

Annette’s mouth quirked. "Before I join Tate, might I have a word with you?"

I shrugged. "Sure. What’s up?"

She glanced around. "In private."

"Fine, whatever. Come into my new office."

The three Fangsters didn’t try to follow us. Guess they didn’t feel Annette was a threat. Little did they know she and I were more likely to brawl than anyone else here.

I shut my door more for the illusion of privacy than thinking it would prevent undead eavesdropping. "Okay, what’s up?"

Annette sat in one of the two chairs in the room. "Crispin’s right to keep you away from this, Cat. Even though you’re clearly sore with him about it."

I rolled my eyes. "Don’tyou start."

She stared at me. "I was fourteen when I was forced into an arranged marriage with the meanest, most revolting man I’d ever met…at the time. On the third night, Abbot called one of the chambermaids to join us in bed. I refused, and he beat me. After that, whenever he brought a woman into our bedchamber, I didn’t argue. A few years later, a married duchess named Lady Genevieve invited Abbot and me to her estate when her husband was away at court. She drugged Abbot, and when he slumbered, she told me she had a surprise for me. There was a rap at her door and then a young man walked in. You can guess who it was."

"Do I need to hear this?" I interrupted. "Although on an objective level it’s fascinating, I don’t want to hear you reminisce about having sex with Bones."

She waved a hand. "There’s a point. Crispin and I were both trapped by our circumstances, you see. Divorce only existed for kings then, and a woman was nothing more than a flesh machine for reproduc tion. I did conceive, whose child I don’t know, since I’d been shagging both Crispin and Abbot, but at the time of delivery, Abbot refused to summon a midwife. The baby was breech, I almost bled to death, and my infant son strangled on his cord."

That took away my irritation. Even well over two hundred years later, there was no mistaking the pain in Annette’s voice. "I’m sorry," I said sincerely.

She nodded once. "The stillbirth rendered me sterile and I was ill for months. Crispin snuck to care for me as I convalesced. Then soon after, he was arrested for thievery. Lady Genevieve arranged for me to have a private session with the magistrate. I convinced him not to hang Crispin, but to transport him to the South Wales colonies instead. It was the only thing I could do to repay Crispin for his many kindnesses."

"Thank you."

I’d never said that to Annette before, but over this topic, it was more than due. Yeah, Annette and I had our problems, but without her-and Ian, come to think-Bones wouldn’t have lived beyond the eighteenth century.

"Nineteen miserable years passed. One night there was a knock on our bedchamber door. Abbot opened it, and then was thrown backward through the air. The hood fell back on the intruder and there was Crispin, looking not a day older than when I’d last seen him.

"Crispin told me he hadn’t forgotten me or the misery I’d endured. Then he broke every bone in Abbot’s body. After he’d killed him, Crispin showed me what he’d become, and he gave me a choice. With Abbot dead, I would inherit everything and could live out the rest of my life at court. But to me, that was only exchanging one cage for another, so I chose the other option Crispin offered. He turned me, and he has sheltered me ever since."

She paused to wipe away a tear. "And now to my point. You’re strong, Cat, but you’re not cruel. Nor is Crispin unless he is enraged or forced, and he is both in this instance. You’d be stricken by what you saw, but he would do no less than what was necessary. Crispin blames himself, and in part he’s correct. Vampires respect what they fear. Mercy is considered a weakness. So love him enough to give him this, even if it’s at the price of your pride."