Black Dog(109)
Natividad thought that maybe, in a little while, she would be able to understand that. At the moment, she just felt sort of hollow. She realized she was trembling, but couldn’t stop. She whispered, “But what did she do to me?”
“I don’t know,” Miguel said. “Things she thought were important – things she thought would help us survive and defeat Vonhausel. But I’m not Pure and I don’t know.”
Neither did Natividad. She was supposed to know, but she didn’t. She needed to remember, only she couldn’t. She caught her breath against a shout or a scream or a sob and pressed a hand hard over her mouth.
DeAnn, frowning in sympathy, suddenly stood up and left her husband’s side to stand behind Natividad, setting her strong hands on Natividad’s shoulders. It wasn’t the same as if Mamá had stood there like that, but Natividad leaned gratefully back against the other woman’s support. She was trembling.
Her twin faced Grayson again. “Sir, I’m guessing, alright? But I think what Vonhausel really didn’t want was an alliance between Dimilioc and anybody related to Mamá. Or maybe taught by her. Or both. That’s why he came after us – only he didn’t know soon enough we’d gotten away, and Natividad’s tangle-you-up spell probably got in his way when he followed us. It’s a really good spell.”
Grayson, gazing at Miguel, said absolutely nothing. It occurred to Natividad, with sudden force, that if they hadn’t run north – if they hadn’t come to Dimilioc – then Vonhausel wouldn’t have come after them and everything would be different. Sheriff Pearson’s daughter wouldn’t have been bitten, the town wouldn’t have been attacked – most of all, no more of the Dimilioc wolves would have been killed. Zachariah and Harrison would still be alive.
She could tell that Grayson was thinking about that, too.
Ezekiel said smoothly, “If Vonhausel had caught you outside of Dimilioc territory, you’d be dead. Then he’d have come here anyway, as we are indeed his strongest remaining enemy, and we’d have had no warning at all. And no daughter of your mother’s would belong to Dimilioc.” He raised an eyebrow at Natividad. “What can you do for us, Natividad Toland? What did your mother give you?”
Natividad only shook her head helplessly. Whatever Mamá had done, Natividad couldn’t remember or hadn’t understood… She’d been too slow a student, she hadn’t figured things out fast enough, and now she didn’t know anything and Mamá was gone, dead, and couldn’t help her…
“You all saw Malvern Vonhausel fight me,” Ezekiel said. He glanced coolly around the room. “He didn’t need to shift from one form to another in order to dismiss his injuries. You all must have seen that. That is not something a black dog can do. That is a power possessed only by the true undead.”
“I think Vonhausel destroyed the church in Lewis because he’s worked out a new way to work dark magic, a way to kind of blend black dog magic with vampire magic,” Miguel said, his tone careful. He kept his eyes on Ezekiel, probably, Natividad thought, because he was afraid to look at Grayson. He said, “I mean, vampires couldn’t approach hallowed ground, and black dogs may not like to, but they can. So that’s what I think Vonhausel might be doing – making, you know, weird zombie undead black dogs.” He glanced at Grayson and stopped, swallowing.
“You suggest this only now,” the Dimilioc Master said grimly. “Indeed, it seems you have a great deal to say, now. Sit down, Alejandro.”
Alejandro was indeed on his feet. He turned his head aside and hunched his shoulders as against a blow, but, though he wouldn’t look at Grayson, he didn’t sit down again, either.
Without moving, the Dimilioc Master seemed to settle more deeply into his chair. Though she wasn’t a black dog, Natividad could almost see his shadow gathering beneath him, pressing against the light, trying to rise. She caught DeAnn’s hand and held it hard, laid her other hand flat against the wall and wished silently and fervently for peace, peace, peace in this house. DeAnn returned her grip, undoubtedly doing the same.
Miguel dropped to his knees, sensibly trying to calm everything down. He made urgent patting gestures toward Alejandro. “It’s alright, it’s alright!”
“It certainly is not alright,” the Master said harshly. And, to Alejandro, “Down.”
The Master hadn’t let his shadow up, though he stared at Alejandro with a black dog’s fire-ridden eyes. Ezekiel had straightened and now stood tensely by the Master’s side. He was barely watching Alejandro: his attention was on the room and everyone in it. Natividad glanced quickly around, too, to see what he was watching.