Destined for an Early Grave (Page 23)

"You don’t know what kind of plane," Bones replied intractably. "Make, model, type; these things could be used to trace you. It’s just for a little while, Kitten."

Just for little while if he was wrong. But for how long if he was right?

"Fine. Which is first, the feeding or the cleaning? I don’t know whether to open my mouth or take off my clothes."

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, "I’m sorry."

"Does that mean you’re going to hit me? Last time you apologized, my head got dented."

I clung to flippancy to avoid bursting into tears at the thought that somehow I was the one who’d been tipping Gregor off.

"It’s your preference, and no, I’m not going to hit you."

I wished I could see his eyes. They’d have told me more about what he was really thinking. But all I had was his voice, and Bones was keeping it carefully controlled.

"Then show me the way to the bathroom. Even I can tell that I stink."

However long I’d been out, it wasn’t for only a quick nap. My bladder was squealing, and my mouth tasted filmy. Charming.

His fingers curled around mine. "I’ll show you."

Left with no other choice except to stumble around, I let Bones lead me.

I used the tiny bathroom sink to wash my hair. That was interesting to do while keeping my eyes closed, since I’d insisted the blindfold be removed. Bones stayed in the doorway the entire time, handing me whatever I needed. From the sounds, there were others on the plane with us. Even though none of them would peek, I felt exposed with the door open. When I was finished, he gave me new clothes.

Then I got spoon-fed. With every bite of what tasted like chicken, my sense of despair rose. So much for equality in our relationship. I couldn’t be more useless right now. When Bones handed me the four caplets, I gulped them down eagerly. Better to be knocked out than this.

Bones woke me again after however long, and we repeated the procedure. The sightless rocking and lolling told me we were still on a plane, but it might have been a different one. The engine sounded throatier. Again I snatched at the pills and washed them down, this time refusing to be spoon-fed. I wasn’t going to starve, and keeping hydrated was the only real concern. Bones didn’t argue. He just stroked my head while I waited for them to take effect.

The last thing I heard before blackness claimed me was, "…landing soon, Crispin." It sounded like Spade. Or maybe I was already dreaming.

Chapter Eleven

MY EYES OPENED, ADJUSTING TO THE BRIGHT light of the room. I was still swallowing Bones’s familiar-tasting blood when I became aware that it was from a glass, not a vein.

"If I had to drink that animal’s blood each day, I’d cheerfully starve myself to death."

Oh, dear God. Please let me be dreaming! "Mom?"

She gave me a disapproving frown before setting the glass on a nearby table.

"You’ve lost weight again. Can’t that creature keep you from starving?"

Nope, not dreaming. This was her in the flesh. "What are you doing here? Where’s Bones?"

She held up a hand. "He went out somewhere. Even if I knew where, I wouldn’t be able to say. You know, in case the other vampire would find out. I must say, Catherine, you have deplorable taste in men."

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Any one of the three, help me. "Can we skip the usual Bash Bones game? I’m not in a good mood."

"Nor should you be," she said without sympathy. How typical. "You married the frying pan, and now it looks as though you may have also wed the fire."

What had Bones been thinking, bringing her here? Sure, have my mother spend some time with me. After that, I’d be begging to be drugged.

"Don’t mention Gregor, or I’ll…"

I stopped, and her mouth curled. "You’ll what, Catherine?"

What indeed? She was my mother. I couldn’t threaten to slap, stab, beat, or even name-call her. I tried to think of something to scare her into never mentioning my predicament with the Dreamsnatcher again.

"I’ll become a swinger," I said. Her eyes bugged. Uptight rearing made her uncomfortable with alternate lifestyles. "That’s right. Threesomes, foursomes, more. Bones knows about a thousand chicks who’d love to hop into bed with us. It’ll be kinky, we’ll get our freak on – "

She puffed up in outrage. "Catherine!"

Below us, I heard a feminine laugh. One recognizable and just as unexpected.

"What is it you Americans say? I call shotgun!"

Annette, the first vampire Bones ever created, laughed again. It was the knowing chuckle of someone not kidding.

My mother vaulted to her feet. The bedroom was open and Annette had spoken loud enough for even my mother to hear her.

"The day after never, you voracious English tramp!"

Even though I mentally applauded the insult, I was the one who’d started this. "Mom, don’t call Annette a tramp. It’s none of your business how many people she’s banged."

Okay, so I couldn’t be entirely magnanimous. What had Bones been thinking, having both of them under the same roof with me? Considering her centuries-long, graphic former relationship with Bones, Annette and I didn’t get along very well on the best of days. My mother and I had lots of issues despite her recent softening toward the undead, one ghoul in particular.

"Mom, nice to see you. Now, I’d like to take a real bath."

She rose. "Everyone in the house knows not to mention where we are, so you can do whatever as long as you don’t go outside. I brought some clothes for you. They’re in the closet. Oh, and don’t turn on the television. Or the radio, and needless to say, you can’t use the phone."

With that helpful information, she swept out. I paused for a second, then swung my legs out of bed. At least I’d get to bathe without assistance. Baby steps and all that.

After I was thoroughly bathed, groomed, and dressed, I went downstairs, where I could hear all the other voices. Mission accomplished on me not knowing where the hell I was. All I could surmise was that the house was older, though modernly refurbished, and it was on a steep cliff. The outside window had told me that. Green hills and rocks stretched as far as the eye could see, and the air smelled different. It could have been the northern Rockies, but somehow, it didn’t feel like America. Maybe Canada. Maybe not.

I decided I shouldn’t keep guessing. That would defeat the purpose, after all.

The chatter stopped with almost comical abruptness when I came into the kitchen. Five heads picked up with false nonchalance. In addition to my mother and Annette, Bones’s sire Ian was here, along with Spade and Rodney.

"Hi, everyone," I remarked. "Is this the whole crew? Or are there more of you lurking around?"