Broken Heart 02 Don't Talk Back to Your Vampire (27 page)

I released her chin. To make sure I was in control, I pointed to the curtains that framed the windows on either side of the front door. "Wrap one of those around yourself."

Nefertiti yanked off the pretty gold fabric and created a toga for herself. She looked at me, her eyes glazed.

"Very good. Now take me to Tamara."

We left the house and walked down the curved driveway. The bushes that lined the drive shook, and then Bert bounded out of the shrubbery, barking joyously.

Nefertiti nearly shot out of her skin. She reared back and hissed. Bert paid no attention to her reaction.

Instead he danced around me and barked some more.

Then he poked his cold, wet nose into my crotch. Oh, yuck. I gently pushed him away. "Whoa, there.

I've told you this before, sweetheart. We're just friends."

He sat down and panted. I heard his thought:
Ham bone
.

"Later, Bert." I looked at Nefertiti and pointed to the Great Dane. It was wrong to give in to the childish urge, but I couldn't resist. "Pet the nice doggie."

She walked forward as if pulled by puppet strings. Her palm flattened stiffly against Bert's head. He
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growled and shook her off, backing out of her reach.

"You have good taste," I said to the dog. I looked at Nefertiti. "Let's go get Tamara."

We walked for a long time, down streets, through weed-choked yards, and around the broken and battered grounds of Putt 'Er There, the old mini-golf course. We didn't meet a single soul on our travels.

Had everyone been drawn to the other side of town? I wondered what kind of catastrophe could rally every citizen. Then another thought struck: What if everyone had evacuated to the Consortium compound? What if they'd left me and Faustus to our fates? I couldn't believe that.

We followed the curve of a gravel road to a single, dilapidated house. It had been abandoned long before the vampires took over Broken Heart and started encouraging the humans to leave. Tucked into the embrace of tall trees and surrounded by scraggly hedges, it looked like the house that kids always dared each other to go into on Halloween night.

The flaking paint was so old that the color had faded to gray. Both of the front windows were broken and jagged glass glittered in the bright moonlight. The porch had collapsed and the front steps were missing, but that didn't stop Bert from leaping onto the rickety wood and sniffing around.

"Tamara is in there?"

Nefertiti nodded. I wondered if she was lying. Had she faked being glamoured by me to get me here? I looked at the creepy place, my nerves stringing tight. Why hadn't I thought about the possibility that Nefertiti might very well be leading me away from my daughter and into a trap?
Doofus giganticus
.

Bert started to bark furiously.

"Bert! Get down here!"

He obeyed me, skittering to a stop in front of me before wheeling around and engaging in another bark fest. The door swung inward and the shadowy form of a lycan hovered in the darkness of the house.

I'm Eva LeRoy. Where's my daughter?

The creature growled menacingly. Its snout emerged from the doorway, followed by its big, furry face.

The rest of its body remained in shadow.

My heart leapt into my chest as fear pumped through me. I had no experience with kicking ass. If that thing attacked, Bert and I were lycan chow.

"Now, now. There's no reason to be rude." A tall, thin man emerged from the doorway. His legs were so long he crossed the porch in two strides and leapt over the broken stairs. His eyes sparkled. His brown hair was pulled back into a queue. He wore white from head to toe—a short-sleeved shirt, white dress pants, and shiny white shoes. His face was gaunt, his chin pointy. He looked like a too tall elf. Gold hoops, two each, sparkled from both ears. His thin lips were pulled into a smile, but it wasn't friendly. He looked at Bert for a second too long.

The Great Dane stopped barking and whined instead. He ducked his massive head and scurried behind me. His reaction freaked me out. Animals were very intuitive. If he felt scared of this man, I should probably be terrified.

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"Where's my daughter?" I demanded. My experiences with Faustus and Nefertiti had taught me that I had power. A lot of power. I knew I had barely tapped into it, but I was willing to risk that my intuition was correct if it meant saving my daughter.

"She is alive and well." A Russian accent tinged his words. He looked at Nefertiti. "Though Nefertiti is an excellent prevaricator, she tries harder when she thinks she's double-crossing someone."

"She lied about the beasts kidnapping Tamara," I accused. "She would've brought me here no matter what."

Nefertiti sure was consistent in her evil. I wanted to make her go pet the nasty lycan staring at me from the busted doorway. I searched the house. The front windows were completely dark. Other than the lycan, there were no signs of life.

"I want to see Tamara."

"In due time." He studied me. "I didn't account for your abilities. Your powers are very strong." I half expected him to end the sentence with "young Jedi," because he was seriously putting on an Obi-Wan Kenobi act. Instead, I muttered, "Hooray for me."

His eyes flashed with humor. "It doesn't matter how you got here, only that you did." He looked at Nefertiti and shook his head. "She will not be happy to know that you are capable of controlling her." He snapped his fingers and Nefertiti blinked.

"What's going on?" she asked, plucking at the gold curtain. It didn't take her long to figure it out. "You!"

She rounded on me, her eyes going flat with cold anger. "Never glamour me again, you Turn-blood bitch."

"Threaten me again," I said softly, "and I'll make sure you walk off a cliff."
A short one, so that the fall
would only hurt her
. I didn't value her life all that much, but I liked Johnny and I didn't want to endanger him.

She lunged, hands aimed at my throat. The man grabbed her shoulder. "Calm yourself, Nefertiti. You have been bested. Deal with it."

Her hands flopped to her sides, but her fists clenched as if she might risk punching me. If looks could stake, I'd be one dead vampire.

"Return to your feline form and go to your post."

Nefertiti dropped her makeshift toga, grasped her ankh, and said the spell that turned her into Lucifer.

She sauntered by me, tail whipping, and raked my ankle with her claws.

"Ow!" I tried to kick her, but she took off at a full run. I bent down to look at the wound. Red dotted my skin, but it was already healing from the strike. "She's meaner than Naomi Campbell."

He chuckled. "It seems your dog has abandoned you."

I looked over my shoulder and saw Bert loping away, toward the direction we'd walked from. I was glad he was getting out of danger, but I felt less brave without him.

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"Shall we go inside?"

"I'd rather see my daughter." Fear that I had kept at bay now skittered up my spine.

"Let's have a chat first. You should probably know that I've launched a little attack on Broken Heart.

Everyone will be quite busy for a while." He extended his arm in the direction of the house, as if he were a host instead of a lying kidnapper.

"You managed to regain control of your rebellion?" I asked. "Or there was no rebellion at all?"

"I have the same gifts you do, Eva. What do you think?"

The same gifts as me? I
stared at the house. I did not want to go through that door. "I suppose I have no choice."

"That's not true. You can choose to walk with me into my humble abode or you can choose for me to carry you in there."

"I'll walk." I fell into step next to him. I couldn't begin to describe how nervous I felt. No, "nervous"

wasn't the right word. I was scaling the heights to terror-stricken. "Do you have a name or should I just call you panjandrum?"

"That's very unkind," he responded. Humor laced his tone. "I am neither pompous nor pretentious.

However, better a panjandrum, my dear, than a gobemouche like yourself."

"I am not gullible," I protested weakly. I couldn't help but be impressed with his knowledge of weird vocabulary. If he wasn't a bad guy, we might've had a grand time outwording each other. He helped me over the stairs and the porch, then led me past the guard at the door. Whew. The beast smelled like rotting cabbage.

After creaking down the hallway with its cracked linoleum and peeling wallpaper, we entered a sumptuous room with bright colors and comfy furniture. It was luxury at its finest.

"You didn't answer my question," I said as we settled onto a fluffy blue couch. "Who are you?"

"Please forgive me," he said, his eyes glowing red for a split second. "My name is Koschei."

"You're an Ancient? You're my—" Vampire father? Family chieftain? Evil leader? "Does the council know you're a bad guy?"

"Bad guy?" He laughed heartily. "The council rules its children, not its members. We make the laws. You follow them. Ah, Eva. You really are a gobemouche. Good and evil are a matter of perspective."

"I thought it more a matter of intent."

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"Hmm. What shapes the intention of the act? A thief who steals bread to feed his hungry son is a good man doing a bad thing. A thief who steals bread to make a profit for himself is a bad man doing a bad thing." He waved his hand in dismissal and I saw the length of his fingernails. Who would keep their nails that shiny and sharp if not to use them as weapons?

I turned my attention back to the conversation. He hadn't gone through all the trouble to get me here just so we could have a discussion about ethics.

"So you believe it is not the act but the intention that determines what is good and what is evil?" he asked.

"I think good and evil are straightforward. And usually the people who tout shades-of-gray moral philosophy are trying to justify their own actions. Their
evil
actions."

"Or perhaps people who tout black-and-white moral philosophy have yet to commit an act that is considered evil but comes from good intent."

I sank lower into the couch. My lab coat felt very thin. One wrong cross of the legs and I would reveal just how naked I was under it. I felt vulnerable and uncertain. I couldn't quite believe I was sitting across from the creator of my Family. Had Koschei been a good man when Ruadan Turned him? Had he turned evil—or had he hidden it?

"What do you want from me?" I asked. My voice trembled. I cleared my throat.

"Not what you think, lycan whisperer." He grinned at his joke. He tapped his long nail against his chin. "I find it fascinating that you experience telepathy with humans who can take animal forms, but my little experiments haven't rebelled. Another red herring, I'm afraid."

Stan had said the Wraiths were cloning blood and mutating it even more. I was reminded of Damian's story about rounding up his brethren to create a perfect army. Was Koschei trying to do the same thing with vampires?