“You know how you told me I should have asked you about what happened in New Orleans, instead of assuming based on appearances? Well, back at you, Bones. If you had asked, I’d have told you I’ve never had sex with Vlad. I’ve never even kissed him. We slept together because we were both lonely and needed a friend. Nothing more.”
From his face, Bones was wrestling with the information. I tapped my foot. If I can believe you picked up girl after girl with Cannelle and only drank them to sleep, then you’d better be able to believe me about Vlad, I thought with a glint.
“All right,” he said at last. “I believe you, and I should have asked.”
“I can’t believe you thought I slept with Vlad, yet you decided not to mention it.”
“Oh, I would have mentioned it, just not until this situation with your mum was resolved.” His voice was rough. “I thought you did it because you believed I’d cast you off and had been shagging multiple women myself. I understood how it could have happened, though I damn sure wasn’t going to let it continue.”
So that was the other reason Bones challenged Vlad to a death match the night he’d taken me from the Impaler’s house. He hadn’t just wanted me away from Vlad out of concern over Vlad sacrificing me instead of his people if ghouls attacked.
“You came to get me even though you thought I was cheating on you?”
Bones cupped my face. “You pulled me out of New Orleans even though you believed I’d left you and humiliated you with several other women. That’s what vampires do, Kitten. We always come for what’s ours, no matter the circumstances.”
I was just thinking I’d never been happier to be a vampire when a withering voice crackled the air.
“Take your hands off my wife.”
My whole body stiffened as I turned in disbelief. The opened door behind me gave a clear view of Gregor striding up.
Bones pushed himself between me and the advancing vampire. I felt rather than saw Mencheres glide over to us.
“You are not welcome here, Dreamsnatcher,” Mencheres said with frightening courtesy.
“Mencheres.” Gregor had a cold curl to his lips. “You thought you’d won, taking her memory away and imprisoning me all those years, but you failed. Everyone now knows that Catherine and I are bound, and our laws state that at any formal gathering where one spouse is present, the other can’t be refused entry.”
Gregor was right. In fact, why hadn’t I thought of that? Why hadn’t the several-thousand-year-old vampire next to me thought of that? Hell, where was one of Mencheres’s famed visions when it would actually be useful?
“I’ve never been called a more degrading insult than your wife,” I ground out. “Where is my mother, Gregor?”
Vlad also moved closer. Between him and Mencheres, if Gregor dared to attack, he’d be immobilized, then deep-fried until crispy.
This might turn out to be a great party after all.
“Your sharp tongue only guarantees you more punishment,” Gregor replied as he swept inside the house.
Unexpectedly, Bones smiled, running his hand down my arm in a slow caress.
“Don’t care for her tongue, do you? How strange. I find it’s one of my favorite parts.”
Gregor started forward in a rage—and then stopped. Gave a cagey look at Mencheres and Bones. Then he let out a rich laugh.
“No,” he said. “I won’t cast the first blow under an all-truce. You and I will have our day, chien, but not today. In fact, I came because I have a present for Catherine.”
Rodney elbowed people out of the way, glaring at Gregor with almost as much hatred as I did. Gregor didn’t mind. He smiled as he looked behind him at the woman making her way to the house. She was dressed in a red gown with a white fur coat. She had a leash in her hand, another vampire crawling behind her at the end of it.
“You’re dead,” I said in disbelief.
The auburn-haired woman laughed. “Oui, Catherine! You should know, as it was you who killed me. But you made a mistake. You fed me vampire blood just before slaying me, and then you sent me back to Gregor with my head attached. Merci for that. He wouldn’t have been able to raise me as a ghoul otherwise.”
Cannelle smirked the whole time she said it. Meanwhile, I wanted to smack myself. Of course. Cannelle had swallowed some of Ian’s blood right before I stabbed her in the heart. Gregor would have known that by filching it from my dreams, same way he’d learned countless other details. Cannelle had wanted to be a vampire, but as it turned out, I’d helped make her a ghoul instead.
Cannelle kicked the vampire near her feet. I glanced down, saw long dark hair hiding a woman’s face…and my blood ran cold.