"Serephina says to bring her."
Jean-Claude nodded and stood like he was pulled by strings. He looked fresh and new, if a little bloodstained. How dare he look so good when I felt like shit?
He looked down at Jason and me. His strange good humor had returned. He smiled down at me, and even with blood staining his mouth he was beautiful. His eyes glittered with some amusing secret. He was full of himself in a way I'd never seen before.
"I do not know if my companions are able to walk. They're feeling a little drained." He chuckled at his own joke, putting a hand in front of his eyes, as if it was too funny even for him.
"You are drunk," I said.
He nodded. "I believe I am."
"You can't be drunk on blood."
"I've drunk deep of two mortals, but neither of you are human."
I didn't want to hear this. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Necromancer with a chaser of werewolf; a drink to make any vampire giddy." He giggled. Jean-Claude never giggled.
I ignored him, if you can ignore an intoxicated vampire. "Jason, can you stand?"
"I think so." His voice was thick, heavy but not sleepy, more the languor after sex. Maybe I was glad my bite had hurt.
"Larry?"
Larry walked over to us, glancing at Magnus, gun na**d in his hand. He didn't look happy. "Can we trust him?"
"We're going to," I said. "Help me stand up, and let's get out of here before fangface busts a gut."
Jean-Claude was doubled over with laughter. He seemed to think "fangface" was outrageously funny. Ye gods.
Larry helped me stand, and after a second of dizziness I was okay. He offered a hand to Jason without being asked. Jason swayed on his feet, but stayed standing.
"Can you walk?"
"If you can, I can," he said.
A man after my own heart. I took a step, another, and was on my way across the room. Jason and Larry followed. Jean-Claude staggered to his feet, still laughing softly.
Magnus was standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting for us. He had the jacket slung over one arm. He'd even found the ribbon to tie back his hair.
Jason walked wide around the torn bodies of his two would-be lovers and picked his shirt off the floor. The shirt covered the mess on his chest, but the goo was still on his face, and his hair was stiff and nearly as dark as his pants.
Even the back of Jean-Claude's clothes and hair were thick with congealing blood. I had my own share of blood and goop. Good thing I wore mostly black tonight; didn't show dirt as badly. The crimson blouse was looking a little worse for wear.
Larry was the only one without any blood or gore on him. Here was hoping he could keep up the good work.
The two girls had hidden under the stairs while we discussed things. I was betting it was the brown-haired girl's idea to hide. Lisa seemed too scared to think, let alone do anything smart. Not that I could blame her, but hysteria gets you nowhere but dead.
The brown-haired girl walked over to Larry. The blonde came along for the ride, her hands dug so tightly into the other one's torn blouse it would have taken surgery to remove them.
"We just want to go home now. Can we do that?" Her voice was a little breathy, but for the most part solid. I stared into her brown eyes and nodded.
Larry looked at me.
"Magnus," I said.
He raised his eyebrows, still waiting by the stairs like a tour guide, or a butler ready to escort us up. "You called?"
"I want the girls to leave now, safe."
He glanced at them. "I don't see why not. Serephina had us collect them mostly for your benefit, Anita. They've served their purpose."
I didn't like the way he said that last. "Safe, Magnus, no more harm. Are we clear on what that means?"
He smiled. "They walk out the door, and go home. Is that clear enough for you?"
"Why so cooperative all of a sudden?"
"Would letting them go be apology enough?" Magnus asked.
"Yeah, if they go free, unharmed. I'll accept her apology."
He nodded. "Then consider it done."
"Don't you have to check with your master first?"
"My master whispers sweetly to me, Anita, and I obey." He smiled while he said it, but there was a tightness around his eyes, an involuntary flexing of his hands.
"You don't like being her lap dog."
"Perhaps, but there's not much I can do about it." He started up the stairs. "Shall we go up?"
Jean-Claude paused at the bottom of the stairs. "Do you need some help, ma petite? I have taken quite a bit of your blood. You do not recover as quickly as my wolf."
Truthfully, the stairs looked longer going up than they had coming down. But I shook my head. "I can make it."
"Of that, ma petite, I have no doubt." He stepped close to me, but did not whisper; instead I felt him in my mind. "You are weak, ma petite. Let me help you."
"Stop doing that, dammit."
He smiled and sighed. "As you like, ma petite." He walked up the steps like he could have flown, barely touching them. Larry and the girls went up next; none of them seemed tired. I slogged up after them. Jason brought up the rear. He looked hollow-eyed. It may have felt good, but donating that much blood is still rough, even on the temporarily furry. If Jean-Claude had offered to carry him up the stairs, would he have agreed?
Jason caught me looking, but he didn't smile; he just stared back. Maybe he'd have said no, too. Weren't we all just being uncooperative tonight?
Chapter 27
The silken drapes had been drawn aside. A throne sat in the far right-hand corner. There was no other word for it; "chair" just didn't cover that golden, bejeweled thing. Cushions were scattered on the floor around it, heaped like they should be covered with harem girls, or at least small pampered dogs. Nothing sat on them. It was like an empty stage waiting for the actors to appear.
A small wall-hanging on the back wall had been pushed aside to reveal a door. The door had been wedged open with a triangular piece of wood. The spring air poured through the open door, chasing back the smell of decay. I started to say "Come on, girls," but the wind changed. It blew harder, colder, and I knew it wasn't wind at all. My skin prickled, the fine muscles along my arms and shoulders twitching with it.
"What is that?" Larry asked.
"Ghosts," I said.
"Ghosts? What the hell are ghosts doing here?"
"Serephina can call ghosts," Jean-Claude said. "It is a unique ability among us."
Kissa appeared in the doorway. Her right arm hung loose at her side. Blood dripped down her arm in a slow, heavy line.
"Your handiwork?" I asked.
Larry nodded. "I shot her, but it didn't seem to slow her down much."
"You hurt her."
Larry widened his eyes. "Great." He didn't sound great when he said it. Wounded master vampires get cranky as hell.
"Serephina bids you come outside," Kissa said.
Magnus dropped to the cushions, boneless as a cat. He looked like he'd curled up there before.
"You aren't coming?" I asked.
"I've seen the show," he said.
Jean-Claude walked towards the door. Jason had moved up beside him, but back a couple of steps like a good dog.
The two girls were holding onto Larry's jacket. He had been the one who unchained them. They'd seen him shoot the bad guys. He was a hero. And like all good heroes, he'd get himself killed protecting them.
Jean-Claude was suddenly at my side. "What is wrong, ma petite?"
"Can the girls go out the front?"
"Why?"
"Because whatever's out there is big and bad, and I want them out of it."
"What's wrong?" Jason asked. He stood a little to one side. He was flexing his hands, closed, open, closed, open. He'd seemed a lot more relaxed thirty minutes ago, but then, weren't we all?
Jean-Claude turned to Kissa. "Was this one right?" He motioned to Magnus. "Are the girls free to go?"
"They may go; so says our master."
He turned to the girls. "Go," he said.
They looked at each other, then at Larry. "Alone?" the blonde said.
The brown-haired one shook her head. "Come on, Lisa, they're letting us go. Come on." She looked at Larry. "Thank you."
"Just go home," he said. "Be safe."
She nodded and started for the far door with Lisa clinging to her. They left the door to the room open, and we watched them walk out the front. Nothing swooped down upon them. No screams cut the night. What do you know?