Destined for an Early Grave (Page 63)

I was looking forward to that. Right now, slicing through Gregor’s guards sounded more fulfilling than anything else I could imagine.

But what if I couldn’t slice through his guards? I could be as weak as any new vampire now. There hadn’t been time to test my physical strength in the past few days. Only my mental fortitude as I got over the hunger insanity.

"Bones. We need to fight."

To my profound relief, I discovered my strength had not been reduced to that of an average new vampire. In fact, Bones had been stunned in our first fight when I’d taken advantage of his restrained attack and beaten him. He’d gaped in shock at the knife in his chest – steel, not silver – then tossed back his head and laughed before engaging me in a no-holds-barred assault that left me feeling like I’d been dropped off a cliff – and then run over by a train.

My recovery period was now lightning fast in comparison to what it had been as a half-breed, but there was a price to pay for those upgrades. Everything felt more intense. This was great when it came to bedroom activities, but not when it came to brawling. A broken bone or knife wound might heal in seconds, but those seconds hurt with a mind-numbing intensity. Bones explained it was because my body no longer went into shock. No, it just went right from scorching pain into complete healing, assuming I was fast enough to not get any new injuries before the old ones cleared up.

The other thing I discovered was how different it felt to be cut with silver versus another metal. Never before had I realized how strong vampiric aversion was to silver, or how much my being half-human had shielded me from it. When injured by silver, I had all the blasting pain of my nerve endings going into shock, plus an added burning agony that made a steel-inflicted wound feel like bliss in comparison.

I’d have to learn how to control my instinctive reaction to the new, amped-up levels of pain. Right now, they stumbled me and cost me time. Time I couldn’t afford with the looming battle to get my mom back.

Four days passed with no word about my mother. I spent them in constant activity – when I wasn’t immobilized from dawn’s power over me. I found that the more blood I drank from Bones, the more I could force myself to stay awake as the sun crept over the horizon. I was up to being awake for an hour after dawn. Granted, that hour consisted of being in a state of near paralysis, but it was progress, though there was no meter for me to compare my progress to. I wasn’t the world’s only known half-breed, but apparently, I was the only one who’d been turned into a vampire. No one knew how long a typical new vampire’s weakness to dawn would affect me. I could be doing cartwheels at sunrise in a week – or it might take me a year.

The fifth night was my coming-out party. I was in no mood to stand there, smile, and greet a bunch of people who might have been screaming for my head recently, but that’s what I’d be doing. If it prevented more tensions between vampires and ghouls, as well as helping my chances of getting my mother back, I’d do it naked if I had to. Since this was a formal undead gathering, there would be food – all kinds – drinks, dancing, and festivities, while those in power pondered whether or not to slaughter half the people around them.

In other words, like a high-school prom.

I had just finished drying my hair when I heard the downstairs front door slam, then rapid footsteps on the stairs. Bones was back. He’d gone to get me a dress, since for whatever reason, he didn’t feel anything in the house was good enough. He came through the door with a garment bag in hand.

"Just in time," I said. "I’m about to curl my hair. So, let’s see the dress."

Bones zipped the bag open to reveal a long black dress, spaghetti-strapped, narrowing to a nonde-fined waist but with crystals embedded in the fabric around the bodice. Those crystals would mold around my br**sts, I could tell from the cut, and even in the low light in the room, they sparkled and threw off dazzling colors.

"Beautiful," I said, then smiled wryly. "Can’t wear a bra with it, though. I’m sure that was accidental on your part."

He grinned. "Of course."

It really was a beautiful dress. Simple, gothic, yet sparkly. Very appropriate for a vampire coming-out party.

"This’ll go great with my fangs," I said, trying for flippancy to cover my nervousness. Even still, I could smell it on me. It was sickly sweet, like an overripe peach. If only there was a way I could cover my tension with the scent of eau de brass balls instead.

Bones kissed my bare shoulder, easy to do since I was still only wearing a towel. "It will be fine, Kitten."

I smiled, ignoring the squeeze in my gut that didn’t agree. "Of course it will."

The last receiving line I’d stood in had been at Randy’s funeral. This one was almost as cheerful. For one, my conversation with Bones was mostly limited to him saying, "This is so-and-so. So-and-so, may I present Cat, the newest member of my line," and I would shake hands with someone who might just as soon roast me over hot coals.

Rodney was here, looking as grim-faced as I felt. He blamed himself for not waking my mother when Gregor stalked her in her sleep. I’d tried to tell Rodney there was no way he could have known what was happening, but my reassurances fell on deaf ears.

Fabian floated around like a transparent maitre d’, reporting in when the drinks or hors d’oeuvres ran low. Spade and Ian paid their formal respects in line. About thirty introductions later, Annette was next. She wore a strapless dress that looked poured onto her voluptuous figure. Long black gloves added a classy touch to the gown’s sexiness. Next to her, I felt like Carrot Top in drag.

She put her arms around me. Taken aback, I froze. Annette squeezed me once, and whispered, "You made the right decision," and then let me go with a smile.

"Don’t you look lovely, Cat? It would seem death becomes you indeed."

I hadn’t expected such a warm greeting from her. "Thank you," I managed. "I heard it was all the rage this season."

She laughed, her chuckle holding a sinful undercurrent. "Dare I hope your heterosexual exclusivity has been buried along with your pulse?"

Now there was the Annette I knew. A voracious shark disguised behind a beautiful woman.

"That hasn’t changed," I told her dryly. "Kind of you to inquire, though."

Her eyes sparkled. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say. Ah, well, must move along. Frightful lot of blokes here to watch you not breathe, after all."

I saw a familiar frame lingering near the front entryway. Dark straight hair with its pronounced widow’s peak framed an angular face while coppery green eyes met mine.

"Vlad!"

The tenseness of the past hour had taken its toll on me, making me so glad to see someone I trusted that I left my place to greet him. He smells like cinnamon and smoke, I thought when I hugged him. What an interesting combination of scents.