At Grave's End (Page 62)

"I’ll tend to her."

With Rattler bound, Bones came to me, pressing his lips against the wound in my crown.

"You could have cracked your skull like an egg smashing into that wall, let alone the risk of getting shot. Mule-headed woman, at least it appears your stubbornness is well protected by a thick layer of bone. Have I thanked you yet for your reckless disregard of my directive to stay upstairs?"

"No," I said with a small smile.

Bones set me back, pulling a knife from his pants. "I will. Promise."

He cut his palm and placed it over my head. The tingling sensation was almost instant as my flesh healed. With a last brush of his lips, he let me go, and turned to the vampire who was the center of attention.

"Why?"

It was asked with the threat of punishment and the pain of betrayal combined. Rattler dropped his gaze.

Spade rammed his elbow so hard into Rattler’s rib cage that half his arm disappeared from sight.

"You were asked a question, Walter!"

Walter, a.k.a. Rattler, gave a gasp of pain even as Bones laid a hand on Spade.

"It’s all right, mate. We’ll give him a chance to confess without bloodying him first." Then to Rattler, with a much harder tone.

"You know how this will go down. No matter how brave you fancy yourself, everyone breaks eventually. So you will either detail exactly when, why, and how you threw your lot in with Patra with all your limbs and skin attached…or with new parts growing as fast as we can tear them off."

For once, such a grim pronouncement didn’t fill me with the slightest bit of compassion. It was all I could do not to fling myself on Rattler and start ripping him to pieces just for the sheer enjoyment of it.

"Was it for money?" I hissed. "All that gold and glory she promised? Is that it, were you just greedy?"

"I don’t care about money." Whether it was spoken to me or Bones was a toss-up; Rattler glanced at both of us. "I did what I had to do for love."

"For love?" I repeated. "You’re in love with Patra? Then you’re stupid as well as a backstabbing ass**le."

"Not Patra. For Vivienne."

"Patra killed Vivienne, why would you-" Bones began, and then stopped. He shook his head with a sound that was much too callous to be laughter.

"Ah, I see. All this time, then? You told me Vivi enne had been slain months ago. I grieved with you, you sod, and all the while you were waiting for your chance!"

It clicked then. I remembered the explosion at Mencheres’s house caused by vampires who’d turned themselves into walking bombs all for the sake of whoever Patra had kidnapped beforehand. Seems Patra had done the same with Rattler by kidnapping someone he loved to get him to betray Bones. What a truly vile person Patra was. If possible, I hated her even more.

"How do you even know Vivienne’s still alive?" Bones asked.

Rattler looked even more pained than he did right after Spade had elbowed him out the other side.

"Because every week Patra calls me…and lets me hear her scream."

Bones began to pace in limited, impotent strides.

"I only told her about the train," Rattler went on. "I had nothing to do with the attacks on your wife. Earlier, I was going to snatch Cat and threaten to kill her unless you slew yourself in my sight, but Doc saw me, and I knew he’d shoot me before I could grab her. So I came to where you were holding the only other person the Reaper would endanger herself for, but I failed. I know you’ll punish me as an example, yet I ask one thing…"

"You’d dare ask me for anything?" Harshly.

"I don’t plead for lenience. I know you’ll put me with the other one, but before you do…Bones, my sire, I ask that you forgive me."

Bones quit pacing. There was a loaded silence. Then he came to stand in front of Rattler.

"In 1867, I befriended you. Five years later, I changed you, and what did I say was the worst thing you could ever do as a vampire?"

Rattler looked away. "To betray your sire."

"Right. You have committed the worst act you could in the eyes of our people, yet you ask my forgiveness. Do you know what I have to say to that, Walter Tannenbaum?"

Bones was completely still, and that should have been my warning. Maybe it was the aftereffects of slamming my head through solid concrete that slowed me, or it could have been that he moved too fast, outdistancing even Spade and Vlad as they tried to block him.

"You have it."

The knife he’d used to cut his palm was still in his hand. It buried with a fierce twist into Rattler’s heart even as he uttered those words.

There was a split second as their eyes met, me yanking futilely on Bones’s arm and shouts of protest coming from the onlookers, when I would swear I saw Rattler smile. It died in the next instant along with him. His body slumped, and before my eyes, his skin started to wither.

"Bones, why?"

Now I was the one who directed that ringing question to him. He swung around to face me.

"Because I would have done the same thing if I were him, so he has my forgiveness."

In the uncomfortable moment of silence I spoke up. "He didn’t have mine."

Only the pain in his voice kept me from screaming at him. Instead, in a manner very like his, I grew more still.

"I heard that bitch laugh when she told me she’d killed you. Then saw her face when she thanked me for it being all my fault. Aren’tI deserving of any retribution? Doesn’tmy injury measure up next to Rattler’s? This might have been merciful but it waswrong, Bones. You taught me that. No matter how much you empathized with Rattler, you shouldn’t have killed him. I let you have Max. You should have given me Rattler."

And with that, I left the small room, the other vampires clearing a path to let me pass.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SINCE BONES HAD BEEN PRETENDING TO BE weak prior to finding out who the traitor was, he hadn’t spent much time with the prisoner he’d helped capture from the train ambush-Anubus, Patra’s second-in-command. In fact, Anubus had almost been neglected in the furor over Bones’s return, though I’m sure he didn’t complain over his lack of attention. In fact, he almost seemed surprised to see someone in his cell.

This was really the first I’d seen him as well, since I didn’t count that initial time when Ian, Rodney, and Spade had returned with him and without Bones. Anubus was tall for an Egyptian, well over six-three, and he had the long straight hair and pronounced features to brag of his heritage. His bearing was far from that of a prisoner awaiting a grim sentence, too. He almost appeared relaxed, even though he was welded into the steel wall he hung from.