The Graves of Saints (13 page)

She picked up her duffel bag, gave Cat a kiss on the cheek, and then headed into the house. Watching her go, Cat couldn’t help feeling guilty. She didn’t like to deceive anyone, even
if she had only committed sins of omission, but she couldn’t very well tell the other witches what was going on in the orchard – at least not until they knew for certain themselves.

Cat set off on foot. It was a ten-minute walk from her house on the property to the clearing in the orchard, but she relished the time she spent amongst the trees, the air sweet with the scent
of apples and rich with the smell of earth and growing things. She felt cradled in the embrace of the goddess here, and never wanted to be anywhere else for very long.

When she arrived at the clearing, she saw that Ed, the orchard foreman, had put a mesh covering over the enclosure he’d cobbled together around what Cat and Tori and Ed himself had been
hopefully referring to as ‘the new growth’. There were customers wandering through the rows, picking apples, and as Cat approached the clearing she saw a couple with two precious little
boys pause to try to look over the enclosure, through the mesh. The father had one son on his shoulders.

‘What do you see, Kyle?’ the father asked.

‘A tree, I think,’ the little boy said. ‘But it’s moving.’

‘Dad, come on!’ the older son whined, and then the family headed off into the rows. The mother and father exchanged a smile and Cat thought she heard the mother say ‘moving
trees’, with the amused indulgence particular to mothers.

Cat turned right and worked her way around the enclosure. She heard Tori and Ed speaking before she saw them emerging from a gate that the foreman had included as part of the enclosure. It was a
crude thing, just hinges and plywood, but it did its job and had a hoop for a padlock.

‘What’s going on in there?’ Cat asked.

Tori looked up, a bit startled, but her troubled expression relaxed and she went to give her wife a quick hug and kiss. Ed had been uneasy with their displays of affection once upon a time, but
he’d grown used to it.

‘Everything under control for tonight?’ Tori asked.

‘Yeah, yeah. We’re good,’ Cat said, waving the question away. ‘Except, y’know, for this incredible, impossible thing that we have no idea how to address with our
guests. So . . . talk to me.’

Tori exhaled and smiled at Ed before turning back to Cat. She shrugged.

‘It’s growing. Gotta be two and a half feet high by now,’ she said.

Cat nodded. ‘That little boy said it was moving.’

‘Nah,’ Ed put in. ‘Just the breeze in her hair.’

Tori and Cat both shifted awkwardly. They had been trying to avoid calling the new growth
she
or
her
. It seemed too hopeful, somehow, particularly since they were not at all
certain what they were dealing with. The new growth might have a human shape, but it also had bark in some places and skin like an apple in others, and its features were stiff and unmoving. Roots
thrust deeply into the ground, long thin branches that gave the illusion of hair, there was no doubt that this thing was a plant of some kind.

Yet, loath as they were to say it out loud, the new growth was also somehow Keomany.

‘All right,’ Cat said. ‘What do we do tonight? Do we tell them all what’s going on, and if not, how do we hide this from them?’

‘We can’t tell them. Not yet,’ Tori said. ‘Anything could happen. The new growth could be damaged. We have to protect it.’

‘There’s that space at the end of row forty-six, on the west side of the hill,’ Ed suggested. ‘It ain’t as big as this clearing, but it’d be big enough if you
wanted to do your ceremony there.’

‘I hate hiding this from them,’ Cat said, sighing as she went to the enclosure and peered over the top, looking down through the mesh thanks to her great height. ‘They’re
our sisters, after all . . . tonight more than any other. It just seems wrong.’

Tori edged up beside her and took her hand, squeezing it. ‘I love them, too. Well, most of them. Heather, Vicky, Ella, Jaleesa . . . I want to share this with them. It’s a miracle,
Cat. But I just don’t want to take any risks yet.’

Cat nodded. ‘I know. Me neither.’ She turned to Ed. ‘Row forty-six it is. Can you get the staff to set up some chairs there? Tori and I are going to have to start preparing the
ground for the ceremony.’

She hesitated, then turned to her wife, taking both of Tori’s hands in her own. ‘But we’re going to check in an hour before sunset. It could be that by then she . . . it . . .
will have grown enough that there will be no question about the miracle that’s happening here, and then we can share it with all of them.’

Tori smiled. ‘Deal.’

They started back down the hill together, hand in hand, both of them wearing enormous grins. The earth magic that had blossomed in their orchard was unlike anything either of them had ever
encountered or even heard about.

If –
no, when! –
the new growth reached maturity, would it open its eyes and speak? And if it did, would it speak with Keomany’s voice, or was the thing rooted in
their orchard some new creature entirely, given life by the goddess?

Cat couldn’t wait to find out.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Kuromaku stood in the hotel lobby, letting the ebb and flow of human life wash over him. The colors of their garments might be vivid or drab, but he saw beyond such outward
expressions, felt the heat of their blood and the vibrancy of their aspirations. There were times he thought he could even see the ties that bound them to one another. Octavian had undergone a
metamorphosis years ago that had split his Shadow nature into three parts. Kuromaku had not lived long enough yet for that transition, but he did believe himself to have undergone a slow evolution
over the years, a series of small epiphanies that led to what he considered the beginning of wisdom.

He was still a warrior, of course, and he had always had honor, even when others would have called him a monster. But he had lived long enough first to grow to disdain human fragility and
whimsy, and then to cherish it.

The lobby of the hotel where Nikki Wydra had been murdered held interest for Kuromaku. There had been dozens of so-called journalists outside, along with more than one hundred spectators, many
of whom he surmised were fans of Nikki’s music. The local police were keeping them out, allying themselves with hotel security to determine who were legitimate guests and visitors. Kuromaku
presumed it must be creating havoc for hotel guests, who would undoubtedly want some sort of compensation for the inconvenience.

Nikki’s death, an inconvenience
. He closed his eyes a moment. As much as he had come to find humanity beautiful, he was far from immune to frustration, and other emotions.

When he opened his eyes he saw the police officer who had let him in to the lobby coming toward him, moving around a furious-looking woman who tugged a tow-headed little boy by the hand, even as
a bellhop followed with her luggage. She headed for the front desk, having begun her tirade even before she reached the counter, preparing to check out.

‘Mom? Mom? Mom?’ the boy intoned, yanking her arm to try to get her attention. ‘Are there really vampires in the hotel?’

The boy glanced around, eyes wide with a combination of fear and fascination, as if a vampire might pop out from behind the giant potted fern he had just passed. Kuromaku smiled at the
boy’s expression.
If you only knew
. The mother, however, only hushed him.

‘Excuse me, sir,’ the young cop said, approaching Kuromaku. ‘Can you come this way, please?’

Kuromaku glanced once more at the boy and his angry mother and then nodded to the officer, gesturing for him to lead the way. In the chaos of noise and confusion in the lobby, a more polite
reply would have been lost. Even now, as he followed the officer past two dark-suited security guards, a man near the concierge desk began to shout about the rights of the press, clutching a camera
as he was hustled toward the doors.

‘This is a total mess,’ the cop said, glancing back at Kuromaku. ‘Bad enough you got a celebrity murder case, but throw vamps in and everybody goes bugfuck crazy. It’s
only gonna get worse as word spreads about how she died.’

Kuromaku silently agreed as the officer led him past the entrance to the hotel’s restaurant and toward the opening into a grotto of elevator banks.

Concerned, the officer slowed and looked at him. ‘I didn’t mean any disrespect, y’know? About the victim?’

Now that they were away from the epicenter of the chaos and it was quieter, Kuromaku nodded.

‘Of course. A day like today, I imagine your job becomes difficult.’

‘Exactly!’ the cop said, nodding grimly. ‘It’s a nuthouse in here.’

They entered the elevator grotto to find two people seemingly awaiting their arrival. One was a Chinese man who carried himself like a soldier, while the other was an old friend.

Kuromaku smiled and opened his arms as he went to her. ‘Allison. I’m very happy to see you.’

Allison Vigeant embraced him firmly. ‘And I’m glad you’re here, ’Maku. I just wish it were under different circumstances.’

With a sigh, he released her and stepped back, though he kept one hand on her arm as he met her gaze. In that moment, they had forgotten the other people standing in the grotto with them.

‘So do I. How is he?’

Eyes haunted, Allison lowered her gaze for just a moment before looking up at him again. ‘About how you’d expect. But he’ll be glad you’re here. There’s all kinds
of nasty shit hitting the fan. He’s going to need us, and more besides.’

Kuromaku nodded once, unsmiling, and stood a little straighter. ‘Take me to him.’

When the knock came at his hotel room door, Octavian tore his gaze away from the window. He had been watching the silent tumult of the clouds, his thoughts everywhere and
nowhere, his grief lying in wait for him to begin to think again.

‘Who is it?’ he called from the sturdy, cushioned chair.

‘An old friend.’

Octavian froze halfway through a deep breath, then rose and strode purposefully across the room to open the door.

One of Metzger’s people was there with Allison –
Song
, Octavian reminded himself – but his focus was on the third visitor, the one who had spoken, although now he
stood behind the others. It had been months since they had seen one another, perhaps more than a year, but most days that seemed like no time at all for men such as they were. Today, it seemed far
too long.

‘My brother,’ Octavian said.

Kuromaku smiled. Allison did as well, as she stood aside so that the old friends might be reunited. Kuromaku might not truly be Octavian’s brother – they didn’t share the same
father or mother or the same vampiric progenitor – but they were comrades in arms and had been friends for centuries, and to Octavian’s mind, they were closer than any brothers who
shared the same blood. Their bond had been forged in blood and in bloodshed, their own and that of their enemies.

Octavian pulled him close and clapped him on the back.

‘Thank you for coming,’ he said.

‘It is where I belong today,’ Kuromaku said.

They shared a quiet moment of understanding. Octavian could have said more, but they would have been words he had spoken too many times before. They stood together today and all days, whatever
might come.

He nodded and turned to Allison. ‘Come with me, both of you. Now that Kuromaku’s here, there’s something we all need to see.’

Octavian pulled his door shut behind him and started down the corridor. All three of them made to follow him, but he paused and glanced at Song.

‘Not you.’

‘Commander Metzger instructed me to—’

Octavian held up a hand. ‘Stop. This isn’t an argument, kid. And no offense meant. But these people here? They’re my family, and what happens next is family business. You go
and explain that to Metzger if you want, but if you try to force your way into family business, there’ll be blood, and none of it ours.’

He said it as kindly as he could, though he watched Song’s eyes to make sure the soldier understood he meant it. From Song’s irritation, and the sliver of fear in his gaze, it was
clear he had gotten the message.

‘As you say,’ Song replied, his words clipped, and colored by his accent. ‘I will deliver the message.’

‘You do that,’ Allison said, and she gave him a little wave. ‘Buh-bye.’

Octavian led the way down the corridor, past hotel rooms that were either empty or were occupied by members of Task Force Victor. Metzger had turned this level into a temporary command center
for his team and for the investigation into Nikki’s murder. Allison had a room and there was one waiting for Kuromaku as well. Given the killing that had taken place here, the hotel had
willingly accommodated the request to clear the floor of guests and reinstall them in other rooms. They might not have been happy about it, but Octavian suspected most of the guests were only too
pleased to be away from the police, FBI, and TFV foot traffic.

‘You don’t seem to like Corporal Song,’ Kuromaku said.

Allison sniffed. ‘He’s Task Force Victor. Our disdain is mutual.’

Octavian knew that Kuromaku would want a longer conversation with him. His old friend would want to offer his condolences more formally. But they had stood side by side or back to back in enough
battles and lost enough loved ones down through the years that Kuromaku’s sympathy was understood. To soldiers such as they were, the aftermath of tragedy was nearly always the time for
action.

‘Here,’ Octavian said, stopping in front of Nikki’s hotel room. He was surprised no guard was on duty.

A rap on the door brought a swift reply. With a click, the door swung inward to reveal a thin, fortyish woman in an FBI jacket. The room was a mini-suite, with a little sitting room sort of
foyer and the main bedroom area beyond. Beyond the FBI agent, Octavian could see Barbieri – the TFV forensics specialist – along with a couple of FBI crime scene techs.

‘Can I help you?’ the woman asked, frowning as she gazed at the three of them.