This Side of the Grave (Page 35)

Those Remnants are just . . . like huge gaping holes of need that gravitate toward whatever energy source they’re pointed at. They couldn’t help what they did to you – "

"Sweet bleedin’ Christ," Bones interrupted. "Try not to let this turn you into a Ghost Whisperer, hmm? Adopting Fabian is one thing, but we’re already turning away spooks by the dozen. If you want another pet, we’ll get you more cats."

"Speaking of my cat," I began.

"He’s here," Bones said, rising from the bed. "Not in this room, for obvious reasons, but Ed dropped him off yesterday."

I let my gaze travel over his nudity because, one, who wouldn’t? And two, it was almost habit for me to admire him every time he rose from the bed. But something caught my eye when I lingered over his muscled thighs, making disbelief snake through me. A glance at the dampness under me as I scooted aside only confirmed it, not to mention the matching pink smudges on my own thighs.

"Bones, are you serious?" I gasped. "You couldn’t wait to have sex with me until I was conscious?" Sure, he was a very sexual person. Almost insatiable, some might claim, and I’d be tempted to agree, but this was crossing a line –

He began to laugh in a way that was more ironic than amused. "You may not want to have this conversation until you’re a bit less . . . agitated," he said, seeming to choose his words with care.

I crossed my arms over my chest, not tapping my foot only because it was still on the bed.

"You’re not going to try that whole lame male ‘I had to do it or I’d explode’ excuse, are you? Because it’s bullshit for humans, but even more so for a vampire, especially one as old as you."

His brow arched in challenge. "Really think I’d shag you if you were out cold? Didn’t we cover this a long time ago, before we even started dating?" I gave a pointed glance down at the pink stains on the bed, evidence of his climax due to the blood-to-water ratio in vampire bodies. "So you made those . . . by yourself?" And rubbed some on me for good measure? I mentally added, but didn’t say out loud.

"No, luv, you were most definitely part of those, but you weren’t unconscious," he replied evenly. "You were crazed with hunger from the effects of Marie’s blood, and I don’t mean hunger in the nutritional sense."

Oh. My cheeks actually tingled with the urge to blush. That hadn’t occurred to me, even though one of the last things I remembered with clarity was a feeling of incredible hunger. Guess I’d misjudged what kind of hunger.

I strained my mind more, trying to think past that moment in the graveyard. After a short wait, a scattershot of images danced across my memory. Bones’s pale body rising over mine, his mouth open in a moan . . . crimson drops of blood on his skin that I licked away before biting him again . . . his hair, so dark against my thighs when he lowered his head between them . . . the restraintsdigging into my wrists while waves of pleasure and need crested within me . . .

Yeah, I’d been involved, all right. And bitey, too, it seemed. "Well, um . . . sorry for accusing you of, ah . . ."

"Taking advantage of my own wife while she was out cold?" he supplied.

I winced. "I’m starting to get little glimpses of what happened – though why’d you chain me to a wall? Don’t tell me that Marie’s blood temporarily turned me into a bondage junkie, too."

If so, that begged the question of what exactly the voodoo queen was into for kicks, if I’d absorbed that from her, too . . .

Bones actually took in a breath before he spoke. "Kitten, let it alone for now. It’ll only upset you, and it wasn’t your fault."

"What?" I burst out, dread replacing the lingering warmth those sensual images had evoked.

He sat down, taking my hand, his fingers stroking over my knuckles. The fact that he was being comforting made me even more nervous about what he was about to say.

"In the rituals Marie was famous for back in the eighteen hundreds, she’d take her followers into the woods off Lake Pontchartrain," he said, still sounding like he was cherry-picking his words. "There they’d chant, watch Marie do tricks with a pet snake, and drink from a vat of wine sprinkled with her blood. Due to Marie’s position as priestess of the voodoo god Zombi, her blood was supposed to give the participants some of Zombi’s power over the dead, a side effect being uncontrollable lust, if you consider all the orgies that took place." Relief surged in me. "But that’s great news! Then I don’t have the ability to siphon ghoul powers like I do vampire ones, because Marie’s blood could affect anyone that way – "

"Those rituals were a sham," he cut me off. "They gave people the excuse to pretend any depravities they indulged in weren’t their own doing, but none of them ever really received Zombi’s power over the dead from her blood. What happened with you was the real thing, however. Marie said she’d never seen it before, except very rarely with other voodoo priestesses."

"Mambos," I supplied glumly, my relief turning to ashes as I remembered Marie’s earlier words. I am black magic, she’d said about turning from a Mambo into a ghoul, so it stood to reason that her blood was potent magic, too. "So is that why you had to chain me up? Because absorbing Marie’s powers turned me into a violent tramp? No wonder you said you’d earned that smoke."

It made even the powers I’d absorbed from Vlad and Mencheres seem like a mild inconvenience by comparison. Shoot a little fire from my hands when I was upset? No big deal, and hey, came in handy at times. Accidentally smash several pieces of furniture in our house through telekinesis? Well, we’d needed a new couch and TV anyway, and that also had helped out against the bad guys at a critical time. But this? Not useful at all, unless Bones had a deep sadomasochist streak.

"The good news is, she said this sort of blind hunger shouldn’t happen to you again," Bones responded. "That it was just the initial, overwhelming response to the gate opening between you and the dead. Similar to the blood craze new vampires experience, but that you’d be able to control future twinges once you were yourself, as you clearly are." That was good news, but he’d avoided answering my question, I noticed. "Chains?" I prodded, my voice hardening so he’d know I wasn’t about to drop the subject.

"All right, luv, if you won’t let it go," he drew out. "As I said, you were crazed with hunger, and a lot bloody stronger than you normally are. Didn’t seem to recognize anyone, either, which meant you weren’t being particular about who you sought to assuage that hunger with. Had to chain you up because otherwise, you tried to find someone else to ease your needs if I wasn’t servicing you, and I did have to pause to feed a few times." My jaw dropped at "weren’t being particular" and hung lower at each subsequent word, until I was vaguely surprised it wasn’t resting in my lap by the time he finished. I grabbed the sheet, pulling it around myself in a sudden rush of scalding shame.