Home > Lord of Misrule (The Morganville Vampires #5)(69)

Lord of Misrule (The Morganville Vampires #5)(69)
Author: Rachel Caine

Myrnin pulled up Shane's shirt. There, stuffed in his waistband at the back, was the book.

No.

Myrnin pulled it free, let Shane up, and walked to Bishop. I'm about to break that trust most grievously, he'd said to Claire. She hadn't believed him until this moment.

"Wait," Myrnin said, as Bishop reached for it. "The bargain was for Theo Goldman's family."

"Who? Oh, yes." He smiled. "They'll be quite safe."

"And unharmed," Myrnin said.

"Are you putting conditions on our little agreement?" Bishop asked. "Very well. They go free, and unharmed. Let all witness that Theo Goldman and his family will take no harm from me or mine, but they are not welcome in Morganville. I will not have them here."

Myrnin inclined his head. He lowered himself to one knee in front of the throne, and lifted the book in both hands over his head, offering it up.

Bishop's fingers closed on it, and he let out a long, rattling sigh. "At last," he said. "At last."

Myrnin rested his forearms across his knee, but didn't try to rise. "You said you also required Amelie. May I suggest an alternative?"

"You may, as I'm in good humor with you at the moment."

"The girl wears Amelie's sigil," he said. "She's the only one in town who wears it in the old way, by the old laws. That makes her no less than a part of Amelie herself, blood for blood."

Claire stopped breathing. It seemed as if every head turned toward her, every pair of eyes stared. Shane started to come toward her.

He never made it.

Michael darted forward and slammed his friend down on the stones, snarling. He held him there. Myrnin rose and came to Claire, offering her his hand in an antique, courtly gesture.

His eyes were still dark, still mostly sane.

And that was why she knew she could never really forgive him, ever again. This wasn't the disease talking.

It was just Myrnin.

"Come," he said. "Trust me, Claire. Please."

She avoided him and walked on her own to the foot of Bishop's throne, staring up at him.

"Well?" she asked. "What are you waiting for? Kill me."

"Kill you?" he repeated, mystified. "Why on earth would I do such a foolish thing? Myrnin is quite right. There's no point in killing you, none at all. I need you to run the machines of Morganville for me. I have already declared that Richard Morrell will oversee the humans. I will allow Myrnin the honor of ruling those vampires who choose to stay in my kingdom and swear fealty to me."

Myrnin bowed slightly, from the waist. "I am, of course, deeply grateful for your favor, my lord."

"One thing," Bishop said. "I'll need Oliver's head."

This time, Myrnin smiled. "I know just where to find it, my lord."

"Then be about your work."

Myrnin gave a bow, flourished with elaborate arm movements, and to Claire's eyes, it was almost mocking.

Almost.

While he was bowing, she heard him whisper, "Do as he says."

And then he was gone, walking away, as if none of it meant anything to him at all.

Eve tried to kick him, but he laughed and avoided her, wagging a finger at her as he did. They watched him skip away down the hall.

Shane said, "Let me up, Michael, or fang me. One or the other."

"No," Bishop said, and snapped his fingers to call Michael off when he snarled. "I may need the boy to control his father. Put them in a cage together."

Shane was hauled up and marched off, but not before he said, "Claire, I'll find you."

"I'll find you first," she said.

Bishop broke the lock on the book that Myrnin had given him, and opened it to flip the pages, as if looking for something in particular. He ripped out a page and pressed the two ends together to make a circle of paper, thickly filled with minute, dark writing. "Put this on your arm," he said, and tossed it to Claire. She hesitated, and he sighed. "Put it on, or one of the many hostages to your good behavior will suffer. Do you understand? Mother, father, friends, acquaintances, complete strangers. You are not Myrnin. Don't try to play his games."

Claire slipped the paper sleeve over her arm, feeling stupid, but she didn't see any alternatives.

The paper felt odd against her skin, and then it sucked in and clung to her like something alive. She panicked and tried to pull it off, but she couldn't get a grip on it, so closely was it sticking to her arm.

After a moment of searing pain, it loosened and slipped off on its own.

As it fluttered to the floor, she saw that the page was blank. Nothing on it at all. The dense writing that had been on it stayed on her arm--no, under the skin, as if she'd been tattooed with it.

And the symbols were moving. It made her ill to watch. She had no idea what it meant, but she could feel something happening inside, something . . .

Her fear faded away. So did her anger.

"Swear loyalty to me," Bishop said. "In the old tongue."

Claire got on her knees and swore, in a language she didn't even know, and not for one moment did she doubt it was the right thing to do. In fact, it made her happy. Glowingly happy. Some part of her was screaming, He's making you do this! but the other parts really didn't care.

"What shall I do with your friends?" he asked her.

"I don't care." She didn't even care that Eve was crying.

"You will, someday. I'll grant you this much: your friend Eve may go. I have absolutely no use for her. I will show I am merciful." Claire shrugged.

"I don't care."

She did, she knew she did, but she couldn't make herself feel it.

"Go," Bishop said, and smiled chillingly at Eve. "Run away. Find Amelie and tell her this: I have taken her town away, and all that she values. Tell her I have the book. If she wants it back, she'll have to come for it herself."

Eve angrily wiped tears from her face, glaring at him. "She'll come. And I'll come with her. You don't own jack. This is our town, and we're going to kick you out if it's the last thing we do."

The assembled vampires all laughed. Bishop said, "Then come. We'll be waiting. Won't we, Claire?" "Yes," she said, and went to sit down on the steps by his feet. "We'll be waiting."

He snapped his fingers. "Then let's begin our celebration, and in the morning, we'll talk about how Morganville will be run from now on. According to my wishes."

The End

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