At Grave's End (Page 47)

"No. Well…no."

He must have read the rest of my response in my mind, because he let out a derisive chuckle. "Acquired a taste for Bones’s, have you? Really, he has more intelligence than I’d credited him, binding himself to you. It sorely hinders his competition."

"He doesn’t have any competition," I answered at once, glancing at Tate.

"That’s where you’re mistaken. I wasn’t talking about your scorned suitor there." Vlad gave a dismissive nod to Tate, who bristled. "I meant me. That’s what you’re going to make me do-envy Bones, a man I have little regard for. How galling."

His self-deprecating tone made me smile. Now Tate really glowered.

"You’ll get over it, Vlad. Give it two weeks, you’ll be sorry you even met me."

"Perhaps. Shall we take our final bows now?"

I stamped my feet to make sure my ankles were back to normal, then gestured toward the exit.

"After you."

"…in front of the Palace Twenty on Montrose Avenue, where terrified spectators are telling an incredible tale. Hugh, can you pan to the right to show the firefighters?…Witnesses report gunshots, flames, and possible occult-related activities during this otherwise quiet Christmas evening…You, yes, you, miss, can you tell us what occurred inside?"

"He flew!" a shaking blond girl gasped, grabbing the microphone away from the reporter. "I think he had wings or something…and then she shot him, and the theater started to burn, oh God, I thought I was gonna die!"

"Okay, clearly we have a distraught observer, let’s see who else we can talk to."

The newswoman tried to keep it professional, but then an impromptu tug-of-war occurred over the microphone as the blonde refused to let go.

"Miss, let me have that back, I’m sure you’ll want to speak to the authorities-"

"There she is," she shrieked, pointing at me. "That’s her. She’s the one who shot that thing. She’ll tell you I’m not crazy!"

The reporter surged forward and the cameraman pointed that large black lens right at me. I gave it one full glance before hurrying into the van under heavy escort. This was live coverage, broadcast nationwide.Hi, Patra. See? I’m on the opposite coast from where the informant is supposed to meet you, and you’d NEVERexpect Bones to be away from my side on a job during Christmas, would you?

"FBI, no one’s allowed past this point," Tate barked, shoving the reporter to the side. He pushed the camera down, cutting off any additional views of me or my entourage. After all, one quick look was all we needed. Any more and Patra might notice that Bones wasn’t shadowing me.

Our hysterical witness kept up a steady stream of shrieking until she was dragged to the side by the local police. Either this would work or it wouldn’t, we’d soon find out. Cooper, playing the informant, was supposed to be meeting Patra’s contact within an hour. With luck, Patra would believe Bones and I were both here in Los Angeles.

Tate appeared in the doorway of the van and slammed it closed. Vlad was seated next to me, and Tick Tock and Zero were also inside. Tate gave the command to leave to Doc, our driver for tonight, and sat across from me.

"All right, Cat. If anyone pokes around there, they’ll see the usual cleanup crew and all the brass. There’d be no reason to think Bones wasn’t with you. I’ll be glad to get out of here, no point in painting a target on your head."

"It went pretty well," I commented, bouncing as the van sped away. We’d change cars two times and then fly the rest of the way. Bones was adamant about that. "I hope his goes off without a hitch."

Tate compressed his mouth and said nothing.

"When will you call the Master?" Zero asked.

It always unnerved me when he called him that. Zero seldom addressed Bones otherwise, no matter how often Bones had urged him to. His milky gray eyes were trained on me expectantly.

"I won’t. He’ll call me when it’s over, maybe in about two hours, maybe more."

My stomach twisted with worry. It was all I could do not to snatch up my cell and ruin everything with a fervent, useless plea for him to be careful.

"We’ll be halfway to Mencheres’s house by then." Vlad stretched his legs. "A good thing, too. I’m hungry."

"We’ll all be better when we reach Mencheres in Colorado," I said. "Vlad, you’ll get your dinner, Tate, you can see Annette, and I’ll see Bones sometime before midnight. At least we’ll have a few minutes of Christmas together. Maybe."

God, how I wanted to be at our own home with no one but Bones around. Not shoved in a van surrounded by five vampires on my way to one of Mencheres’s many houses. Life. You could only make plans for it, not dictate orders to it.

"Doc." I rapped on the metal panel. "Step on it, will you?"

The sounds of a helicopter brought me bolting out of my chair with a glance at the clock. Eleven fifty-one, Colorado Mountain Time. Jeez, Bones had cut it close.

Not bothering to throw on a coat, I went outside in my thin cardigan, shivering as the helicopter landed. Snow flurries were swept away by the churning rotors that whipped hair into my face. They slowed and the side door opened, revealing Spade, Rodney, and Ian.

"Someone get me a bloodygood set of irons, I’m sick of sitting on this sod," Ian spat. His chestnut hair was flying almost as much as mine.

Three of Mencheres’s vampires scurried to obey. The other half dozen went to assist Spade, Rodney, and Ian as they restrained a struggling, cursing figure.

"Angel, fetch your husband and have him give us a hand," Spade sang out. "Where is the lazy sod-?"

He stopped at the look on my face. Ian halted as well, giving a brutal blow to the unknown vampire they carted like so much luggage.

"Where’s the other chopper? We were delayed, so Crispin should have beaten us here."

Ian had never sounded so edgy. As if in slow motion, I raised the cell phone in my hand. I’d been clutching it for the past several hours waiting for his call. Nerveless fingers punched in those ten numbers, and then I waited again for that metallic buzzing that served as a ring.

Mencheres came to stand next to me, but I didn’t look at him. All I could do was stare at the helicopter rotors like I was transfixed. My heartbeat was so loud, I almost couldn’t hear the phone as it rang.

One…two…three…four…

God, please. I’ll do anything, please. Let him be all right. Let him be all right.

Five…six…seven…

He has to answer, he has to!

Eight…nine…ten…

There was a click and then background noise. I didn’t wait for more, but screamed his name.

"Bones! Where are you?" I couldn’t hear his voice, just more residual sounds. "Can you hear me?" I yelled even louder. Maybe we had a bad connection.