Destined for an Early Grave (Page 8)

"I’m sorry."

I mumbled it while I looked away from Bones in his bullet-pocked, ruined clothes. All because of you, my conscience mocked.

"Don’t you dare apologize," Bones said at once. "You didn’t ask to be born the way you were, and you didn’t ask Gregor to pursue you so ruthlessly. You owe no one an apology."

I didn’t believe that, but I didn’t argue. It would take up more energy than either one of us had.

Instead, I masked my thoughts behind a wall, something I’d perfected in the past year. "Spade’s right, more blood would be good for you. I’ll take a shower, and you can drink from whatever bar’s open."

Spade gave a nod of approval. "Then it’s settled. Some items that should fit you have already been placed in here, Cat, and for you, Crispin. Mencheres, I’ll show you to your room, then we’ll sort out the rest of this kettle later."

Death chased me. It kept tireless pursuit through the narrow streets and cramped alleys I ran along. With every panting breath, I screamed for help, but I knew with horrible certainty that there was no escape.

There was something familiar about these streets, even deserted as they were. Where had everyone gone? Why wouldn’t anyone help me? And the fog…damn that fog. It had me stumbling on concealed objects and seemed to cling to my feet when I dashed through it.

"Over here…"

I knew that voice. I turned in its direction, doubling my efforts to run toward the sound. Behind me, Death muttered curses, keeping pace. Every so often, claws would swipe into my back, making me scream from fear and pain.

"Just a little farther."

The voice urged me toward a shadow-draped figure that appeared at the end of an alley. As soon as I saw him, Death fell behind, dropping back several paces. With every lengthened stride separating me from the evil that chased me, relief spread through me. Don’t worry, I’m almost there…

The shadows fell from the man. Features solidified, revealing thick brows over gray-green eyes, a crooked patrician nose, full lips, and ash-blond hair. A scar ran zigzag from his eyebrow to his temple, and shoulder-length hair blew in the breeze.

"Come to me, cherie."

A warning clicked in my mind. All at once, the empty cityscape around us disappeared. There was nothing but the two of us and oblivion on all sides.

"Who are you?"

This didn’t feel right. Part of me wanted to fling myself forward, but another piece was cringing back.

"You know me, Catherine."

That voice. Familiar, yet utterly unknown. Catherine. No one called me that anymore…

"Gregor."

As soon as his name came out of my mouth, my confusion was broken. This must be him, and that meant I was dreaming. And if I was dreaming…

I stopped just short of his outstretched hands and backed up. Motherfucker, I’d almost run right into his arms.

His face twisted in frustration, then he took a step toward me. "Come to me, my wife."

"No way. I know what you’re trying to do, Dreamsnatcher."

My voice was my own again. Hard. With every word I retreated, mentally railing at myself to wake up. Open your eyes, Cat! Wakey, wakey!

"You know only what they’ve told you."

His accent was French, no surprise there, and the words were resonating. Even dreaming, I had a sense of his power. Oh, shit, you’re not a weak little hallucination, are you? Stay back, Cat. This puppy bites.

"I know enough."

He laughed in challenge. "Do you, cherie? Did they tell you they stole me from your memory because that was the only way they could keep you from me? Did they tell you they dragged you screaming from my arms, pleading that you didn’t want to leave?"

He kept coming closer, but I kept backing away. Figures – in this dream, I wasn’t armed.

"Something like that. But I’m not your wife."

Gregor stalked nearer. He was a tall man, almost six-five, and there was a beautiful cruelty to his features that was amplified when he smiled.

"Wouldn’t you like to know for yourself instead of being told what to believe?"

I regarded him with more than suspicion. "Sorry, buddy, the trash has already been taken to the curb in my mind. Mencheres can’t pry back the lid to see what’s inside, and it’s only your word that says we’re married."

"They can’t give you back your memories." Gregor stretched out his hands. "I can."

Gregor will attempt to coerce you in your dreams. Mencheres’s admonition rang in my mind. He hadn’t been wrong.

"Liar."

I spun around, sprinting in the opposite direction, only to have Gregor appear in front of me like he’d been magically transposed.

"I’m not lying."

My gaze flicked around, but there was only useless pale fog. I had to wake up. If this guy got his hand on me, I might find myself waking up in a load of trouble.

"Look, Gregor, I know Mencheres locked you up for a long time, and you’re pissed about that, but let’s be reasonable. I’m blood-bound to the man I love, and there are plenty of fish in the sea. Let’s say adieu, then you can go find another girl to dreamsnatch."

His gold head shook sadly. "This isn’t you talking. You didn’t want to be a killer, to spend your whole life looking over your shoulder. I can take it back, Catherine. You had a choice before. You chose me. Take my hand. I’ll return what you’ve lost."

"No." I heard a noise behind me, like a low snarl. Fear tickled up my spine. Death had come for me again.

Gregor’s hands clenched, as if he heard it as well.

"Now, Catherine, you have to come to me now!"

The growls were louder. Death was behind me, Gregor in front of me, and I had to go to one of them. Why couldn’t I wake up? What had woken me the last time? I’d been running, then, too, chased by a monster…

I whirled, ignoring Gregor’s shout, and ran headlong into the horrid figure of Death. Either this would work or –

A slap stung my face, then another. I was being shaken so hard, my teeth should have rattled out. Bones was talking to me, so engrossed in shaking me that it took my third yelp to get his attention.

"Stop it!"

"Kitten?"

He gripped my face, eyes bright green and wild. I batted at his hands, shivering, and realized I was wet. And cold. And sore. With an audience.

"What have you been doing to me?"

I was on the floor, Bones was next to me, and from the soaked carpet, various items nearby, and worried spectators, I’d been out for a while. A glance down told me what I already suspected. I was still as naked as I’d been when we fell asleep.

"God, Bones, why don’t we just invite everyone in the next time we have sex, that way they can stop seeing things piecemeal!"