Twice Dead (10 page)

Stop. Do not move. Do not speak.

I flinched as Tatius’s words cut through my brain. I had the urge to throw my hands over my ears, but the action wouldn’t have accomplished anything. Well, anything but pissing Tatius off more.

“Is your companion unwell?” Elizabeth asked, managing to sound both concerned and offended simultaneously.

“Elizabeth,” the Collector said, but her voice was empty, no warning or emotion left in it. She turned to Tatius. “Puppet Master, what is the meaning of this?”

“I would call it an interesting development,” he said, hooking his thumbs in his studded belt. “Kita, continue,” he commanded without looking at me, then followed the words with his voice slicing into my mind again.
You better have
something to follow that little announcement. Keep it simple
and short. Lives are on the line. Quite definitely yours.

Well, crap.

“It’s the scent,” I said, staring at the woven belt at the Collector’s waist. “Someone is carrying the base scent of the harlequin under their skin. That only happens when blood is exchanged.”

Someone?
Tatius’s voice asked inside my head, his annoyance clear in the mental touch though his expression never changed. Aloud he said, “Most intriguing, wouldn’t you say, Collector?”

“Are you making an accusation?” Her voice was low again, the edge of anger cutting the end of her sentence. “I remind you, Puppet Master, my human was killed after we’d been granted safe passage in your city.” The implied fact that it was
his
honor being called into question went unsaid.

Tatius rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Not one vampire I’ve questioned saw the woman alive. Knowing who saw her last could be helpful.”

And that actually sounded reasonable.

The Collector tilted her head, but didn’t turn to face her people. “Did one of you drink from Luna tonight?” No one answered and a smile spread like creeping frost across her face. “As I thought.”

Tatius’s eye flicked toward me, only a momentary glance.

You’re sure?

Was I seriously supposed to answer a question only I had heard?

I took a step forward, trying to catch the victim’s scent again, and the two bodyguards moved to intercept me. They were fast, faster than I’d ever seen Nathanial move. One moment they were standing off to one side, and the next they were in my personal space, blocking my path.

I stumbled back. The bulkier of the two crossed arms thicker than my thighs over his chest—right at my eye level and not a foot from my nose. The other man was smaller, wiry, and all sharp angles with little squinty eyes. He wasn’t much taller than me, and I was short. He sneered, his lip curling, the gleam of fang escaping a cruel mouth. He took another step closer, exaggerating the two or so inches of height he had on me.

I flashed him a little of my own teeth then froze. This close, his scent lifted off him with the heat of his body. And I knew that scent.

I backpedaled, my shoulders slamming into Tatius’s chest.

When had he moved behind me?
It didn’t matter. His hand slipped around my waist and I pointed at the wiry guard.

“Him.”

Pressed as close to Tatius as I was, I felt the stillness overtake his body. Felt the exaggerated moment as no one spoke. His fingertips ground against my hip. Finally Tatius’s chest rose as he drew in breath.

“Well?” he asked, his voice betraying none of the strain I felt in his body.

“Jomar?” The name resounded around room, as if the stillness of every vampire present gave the Collector’s voice buoyancy. The short guard jerked. Then he turned and bowed in one swift motion.

“Mistress,” he said without looking up.

“Who did you feed from tonight?”

“Selene. I swear to you.”

The Collector nodded, and the giant turned. Addressing one of the vampires on the wall, he said, “Summon Selene and Chandra.”

Tatius’s grip on my hip tightened. I looked up at him, hoping my eyes conveyed my absolute certainty. He searched my face, searing my flesh, but I didn’t dare look away. I was right. I knew I was. My nose wasn’t as strong as it used to be, but it didn’t lie.

You’d better be correct.
His hand loosened.

The Collector sank back into her chair, crossing her leg over her knee. Then she leaned forward. “I had not heard you sired a companion, Puppet Master. She is very young.” Her gaze swept idly over me before returning to Tatius. “But then you are very old. What ability is this she is manifesting?”

Tatius shrugged, but the movement wasn’t completely smooth. “A rather unusual one.”

“I have observed that. I assume it has been formally tested?”

“Of course,” Tatius said without pause, and I worked hard at keeping my face blank. What I wouldn’t give to have the control Nathanial had over his face.

“While we wait for… corroboration, why don’t we take care of the true purpose of this impromptu gathering.” She didn’t wait for Tatius to agree, but twitched a finger at the doll-like vampire by the giant’s feet. “Elizabeth.”

The giant leaned down, touching the top of the woman’s pile of dark hair. She smiled at him, and then drew herself up, rising in a foam of silk and lace as if something other than muscle and bone were under the dress. She curtseyed before the Collector, the movement so deep the lacy dress collar fell forward, brushing the stone floor.

“Child, come forward,” the Collector said, looking at me once more.

I didn’t want to. I really, really didn’t want another vampire biting me tonight—or ever.

Offer your wrist,
Tatius’s voice demanded.

No. No, no, no…
I lifted my arm, realized my fist was clinched. I sucked in more air, letting the pressure of filling my lungs travel down my body, flow into the soles of my feet.

One by one, I coaxed my fingers to uncurl from the knot of my hand. Another deep breath, and I extended my wrist.

Elizabeth smelled of old cloth and a flowery scent I didn’t recognize, but was so sweet, it made me think of poisonous plants. As for the giant beside her—I froze.

What now?
Annoyance shined through Tatius’s projected thought.

My gaze traveled up, and up, until my neck hinged at a ninety degree angle and I could see the giant’s face. My senses were sharper now that I’d fed, but I couldn’t believe I’d failed to notice such a bizarre thing when I’d first met the giant at the party. “He has no scent,” I whispered.

Which wasn’t possible. Everything had a scent. I wasn’t aware of Tatius’s scent currently because we’d swapped blood, but I could still smell the chemicals his clothing had been washed with, the astringent scent of his hair dye.

Elizabeth had a variety of smells beyond her base scent, but from the giant I smelled nothing. Not his scent, not his clothing, not wind caught in his hair—nothing.
It’s like he’s
not here at all.

“He’s not,” the Collector said, and I realized I’d spoken the last thought aloud. She was standing again, those cold, calculating eyes on me. “This is my second in command. He is known as the Traveler due to his ability to project a corporeal body from a distance.” She turned to Tatius, her hands moving to her hips. “Your companion most assuredly demonstrates an… unusual talent. It is a shame she doesn’t also demonstrate any discipline. Or are all the least significant members of your city allowed to speak out of turn? No wonder your guarantee of safe passage was so easily disregarded.”

The room went as silent as if I’d been sucked into the void between worlds again. I stiffened, expecting an explosive response from Tatius. She’d just insulted not only him, but also his ability to run his city. But instead of a roar of anger, laughter escaped Tatius’s chest.

“We all show favoritism from time to time, do we not?” he said aloud, but in my mind he warned,
No more outbursts or
I’ll cut your wagging tongue free of your pretty little mouth.

Every night. For a year. Now concentrate on the memory of
finding that damned harlequin and get this over with.

Right. I bit my lips together. I’d rather keep my tongue in my head. I nodded, catching the motion mid-movement and freezing, which probably brought even more attention to the fact I’d responded to a command not given out loud.

Swallowing another breath of air oddly not scented with the Traveler’s presence, I held out my wrist.

Elizabeth’s fingers slipped around my arm. She stepped forward, her fangs flashing. My breath caught, but not in fear.

Damn Tiffany and her vampire-bite addiction.
I shoved the reaction away just in time for Elizabeth’s fangs to break skin.

Warmth rushed up my arm, the blaze filling my body, my mind. On my other side, Tatius’s hand on my arm was like a cool oasis. I groped for his fingers, locking mine around his, pressing the long side of my body along his, and the fire in my body calmed enough I could still see, still think.

Cool.

Leaning against Tatius’s shoulder, I focused on the memory of the party, of seeing the open couch and escaping to it. Of smelling the blood. I tried not to think about the head spilling forward, but of course by not thinking about it, the memory sharpened.

Elizabeth pulled back. Her pupils had filled her eyes, not even a trace of blue left. A drop of my blood filled the crease of her lips, and her small tongue darted out as she blinked at me.

“Well?” the Collector asked, tapping her fingers on the chair arm.

“Everything happened as she described,” Elizabeth said.

“But she’s…” Elizabeth glanced at the Traveler then back to the Collector. “…odd. Not human. Never human.”

Crap. So much for the idea that concentrating on the memory would keep her out of my secrets. The Collector looked at me again. No, not again. She’d looked in my direction a few times before, but this was the first time she was actually
looking
at me. Her evaluating glance trailed over my tri-colored hair, my more-yellow-than-green eyes, and then lingered on the wound in my throat.

“What is your companion, Puppet Master?” Her voice made it sound like an idle question, but her eyes… her eyes betrayed her.

“Vampire, of course.” Tatius’s arm slid around my waist, drawing me closer even as he rocked onto one hip, striking a pose of nonchalance.

Games. All of it. Both of them. And little ol’ me, I didn’t even rank as high as a pawn. A pawn, sacrificial as it might be, could at least take another piece.

“Come here child, I wish a peek into your mind.” The Collector held out her open palm, beckoning me forward.

Tatius’s grip around my waist tightened.

“I granted you a chance to view what she saw of your human, not free reign in the memories of my people. You have what I promised you. Be satisfied with it.”

“Of course.” She smiled, the demure gesture looking too genuine to be true. “I believe Selene has arrived.”

She held up her hand, summoning the two women standing in the doorway. Their heads hung as they trudged across the room. Identical falls of pure white hair covered their downcast faces like veils. They shuffled around the chair, stopping directly beside me before dipping simultaneously into curtsies. They straightened slowly as if every upward inch stung.

I expected them to be old, but young faces were revealed when they looked up. Young, colorless faces. I’d never seen skin so pale—the only color was a glimpse of snaking veins under their skin. Both wore sunglasses as if the flickering candlelight were too much for their eyes.

Albinos. And twins at that. Identical.

I blinked at them. Twins with terribly familiar scents. They had to be related to the dead woman.

Triplet albinos?

I inhaled slowly, tasting their scents. I was well fed, but they were human, and my pulse picked up from being so close, from my nearly intimate dissection of their scents.

Theirs were similar, oh so similar, to the harlequin. More alive, of course, fresher, but the same combination of damp darkness with a hint of sweet sunscreen. But under that, each woman had a slightly different scent. Subtle, but definitely different. The headless woman had smelled of wind in the moonlight, and only the guard shared that particular combination.

The Collector steepled her hands, looking between the two women. “Selene, child, who did you feed tonight?”

The twin closest to me started. “I—No one,” she whispered.

Jomar whirled around. “But—”

The Collector held up a hand to silence him. “No one?”

A long strand of colorless hair brushed against my arm as she shook her head. “I was supposed to. It was my turn.” Her shoulders heaved, a small, soundless, hiccup of a movement.

Then they did it again. “Luna took my place.” Her voice quivered, and her shoulders jerked again, as if someone had tied a string around her torso and tugged.

The other twin wrapped her arms around her sister. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered, which only made Selene’s trembling more violent. A wet sob tore from her throat.

I shuffled my feet. I needed to get away from the twins. I was too close. Much too close to a pair of strangers who had just lost their sister. Tatius’s arm tightened around my waist, as if he sensed how close I was to bolting.

Jomar watched the twins with emerging horror written on his face. As another sob sliced the air, he fell to his knees.

Then he lowered himself completely prostrate before the Collector.

“I didn’t know. I swear to you. I thought she was Selene. Luna was alive when I left her.”

“Silence!” The Collector’s voice boomed through the room, and for the first time her composure cracked. The look she gave her prostrate guard verged on homicidal, but then she cleared her throat and smoothed the front of her skirt. When she looked back up, her eyes were once again calm, her mouth unemotive. She nodded to Tatius. “Your companion was correct. Can her inhuman nose tell us anything else?”

Tatius smiled at her, and it was an oily, smug tilting of his lips. “It is a shame about the disobedience in your bloodstock, Collector. You might need to question them further. My companion,” he looked at me, lifting an eyebrow. I tilted my head back, searching the scents in the room, but a yawn caught me unexpectedly and cracked across my face. “Is quite exhausted, as you can see. Dawn draws near. We should conclude this discussion before we retire for the day.”