This Side of the Grave (Page 52)

"Oh, they have an answer for that," Dave said dryly. "Scythe’s stating that if anyone kills Cat, then the vampire nation will know ghouls are onto them. Which is why ghouls have to rise up now, while the vampires least expect it and the scales are tipped in our favor. Then, Apollyon’s first act once he wins the war will be to kill Cat publicly. That way, it will have the maximum crushing effect on the surviving vampires’ psyche." Scheming murderouspricks, I thought in disgusted fury, but kept it to myself this time.

A low growl sounded to my right. I turned, surprised to see it was coming from Fabian.

"Not once did the question of what my people would do during all this come up for discussion, did it?" Fabian asked, his voice sharp.

Dave looked as surprised as I felt at that. "Uh, no, no one mentioned ghosts," he answered, sounding both uncomfortable and apologetic.

Fabian’s transparent features were as angry as I had ever seen them. "We might not have the same abilities as the rest of you, but ghosts are not without power, and we. Are. Many," he said, emphasizing the last three words.

"Remnants and wraiths I can see being able to tip the scales in battle, but what can the average spectre do?" Vlad asked, sounding a bit impatient. "Your species can provide valuable intelligence and carry messages before a conflict starts, true, but once the fighting begins, your usefulness ends."

Part of me wanted to chastise Vlad for being so cold in his assessment of ghosts, but the other part guiltily agreed with him. Remnants? Scary. Wraiths? Scary. Ghosts? Not scary, unless maybe you were a human and you happened to glimpse one in a graveyard. Or you were a kid and one screamed, "Boogie woogie woogie!" while popping up from under your bed.

"There are those of my kind that are more powerful than others," Fabian insisted. "Why do you think humans who aren’t psychic have been able to see ghosts? Why some are caught on film or voice recorder? Why some have even attacked people, leaving visible scratches and other injuries? Some ghosts are strong enough to manifest themselves into solid form, sometimes for several hours. Aside from that, when you have enough of my people united in a common purpose, we can manifest enough energy to turn it into an effective weapon." I was startled. Dave pursed his lips in thought. Mencheres’s expression was its usual hooded mask, but Vlad eyed Fabian with open challenge.

"If ghosts can do all that, why do you waste your time haunting old homes and cemeteries, or scaring humans with random strange noises and useless cold spots? You’re squandering your worth."

"Vlad, enough," I said shortly. Whatever his thoughts on ghosts’ peculiar habits, Fabian was still my friend. I wouldn’t just stand there while his whole race was being put down.

Fabian didn’t flinch under Vlad’s harsh analysis. "You have no idea what it’s like, existing between worlds," he said, floating closer instead of backing away. "We are neither the living nor the undead. It takes years to cope with the fact that even though over ninety-nine percent of everyone who dies crosses over to the next place, you are left behind. Years to accept that everything you worked for in your life is gone, and the shell of memory is all that remains.

Years to recover from hopelessly trying to communicate with loved ones, only to fail time and again because no one except the crazed, psychics, the undead, or other ghosts can see you. Years to accept – even if you don’t understand why – that vampires and ghouls will treat you worse than they do vermin, even though they are no more human than you are." Fabian advanced again, until his finger disappeared into Vlad’s chest. "I’d dare the strongest of your race or any other to say that they’ve conquered the same hardships my people have overcome. So think again before you question a ghost’s worth, or judge those younger ones who are still in the process of becoming tougher than anyone tied to flesh will ever be!" Stunned silence filled the air once Fabian was finished. I wanted to break out into apologies and applause all at the same time, but I was still recovering from my shock at how my mild-mannered, Casper-esque friend had just unloaded a truck full of I-dare-yous onto one of the scariest vampires in existence. Damned if I would ever underestimate a ghost’s chutzpah again, or question their fortitude. Being noncorporeal clearly didn’t equate to lacking a pair of balls.

I wasn’t the only one taken aback. Dave’s mouth hung open, and Mencheres gave Fabian a once-over that showed he was considering him in a whole new light. As for Vlad, his expression had changed from bored disdain to speculative interest as he stared at the finger still jabbed half through his chest.

"If there are more ghosts like you who can channel the same impressive anger into something tangible, then you’re right. Ghosts would be a valuable asset to have in a fight," Vlad said, inclining his head.

Fabian acknowledged the gesture with a nod of his own, pulling his finger and then the rest of himself back to float by me. I didn’t give him a high five – that didn’t work very well with ghosts – but I did flash him a discreet thumbs-up. So much for me needing to defend him or his species. I couldn’t have done half as good a job as Fabian had.

"All right. If things go even more south with Apollyon, good to know we can potentially add ghosts to our list of allies, if Fabian can act as ambassador between his people and ours," I said, bringing things back to the original subject. "Dave, where was this fun little rally held, anyway?"

He grimaced. "You’re really not going to like this part. From the bits of conversation I overheard, Apollyon is the owner of a few large chains of funeral homes and cemeteries, using humans as figureheads for investors and board members. The rally was behind a funeral home that bordered a cemetery. Lots of room there, and they had guards around the area to keep anyone away who wasn’t on the guest list."

Damn Apollyon. The short, balding shit was clever. No one would think twice about a large group gathered at a graveyard. They’d just assume someone rich or from a big family was being buried. Most people didn’t visit cemeteries for cheery reasons, so it wasn’t the place where striking up impromptu conversations was the norm. Not to mention it would take a really ballsy person to go up to a group gathered around a gravesite with the opening line of "So what are we talking about, anyway?"

Vlad let out a bark of laughter. "He’s found a way to make money from eating, not to mention have a network of secure locations for meetings."

"Make money from . . . oh," I said as the rest of what Apollyon was doing became clear.

"He’s not burying all the bodies brought to him, but eating some instead?"