One Foot in the Grave

WARNING, ASBESTOS! and other such signs on the walls heralding danger.

“We couldn’t have just met at a Starbucks?” I remarked.

Bones shut the grille behind him. “Less chance of anyone seeing or overhearing us down here. No one knows Mencheres is even in the States yet.”

“And you said Mencheres is the same vampire who made Ian,” I commented thoughtfully. “So that makes him, like, your fang granddaddy.”

After a short walk, the tunnel broadened in size. Tubes and wires were all along the wall, and the temperature kept rapidly changing from normal to hot. Once past this section, there were multiple passageways to choose from. It was like a labyrinth down here.

Bones began to walk to the tunnel on the right. “He’s my grandsire, yes, but more importantly, he’s a very powerful vampire who Ian wouldn’t want to cross. Since your father, Max, is a member of Ian’s line and still under his protection, any attack against Max would be the same as an attack against Ian in the vampire world.”

“But the fact that Max tried to have my head blown off is okay?” I asked irritably.

“You have no Master claiming you under their line,” Bones replied in an even tone. “You remember I told you vampires operated under a form of feudalism? When one vampire changes another, they take that person under their protection, and conversely, so does the head Master. But you weren’t changed-you were born, so no vampire’s ever claimed responsibility for you. That makes you without a Master to defend you against any outside attack.”

“So just killing Max once I find him could set off a full-out war with Ian’s people, like there aren’t already enough problems with your horny sire to begin with.”

Bones nodded. “Which is why I’m going to change your status in the vampire world. I’ll claim you under my protection, but first I’ll need to break free from Ian’s line. Otherwise, anything I claim as mine is also his, since he’s head of our line. That’s why we’re meeting with Mencheres. Ian would be a damn sight less likely to retaliate against me if Mencheres chooses to ally himself to my side.”

“Did Ian know you were looking for me…before?”

“After your run-in with him, yes. I told him I’d been hunting you to limit the damage you’d do to the undead world. When he expressed his desire for you and fed me your description of our former relationship, I said a few ungentlemanly things to try to discourage him from his pursuit.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s see…I told him that you whined ceaselessly, snored with abominable loudness, and were terrible at shagging. Oh, and that you lacked desirable hygiene.”

“You what?”

He chuckled. “Now, Kitten, I had your best interest at heart. After all, you called me a welsher and said I refused to pay you for your work. Weren’t worried about my reputation, were you?”

“I was trying to protect you, not slander you!”

“As was I. But Ian didn’t fall for my description and still obsessed over you. Not as much as I did, of course, but he didn’t know that.”

I’d address his way of trying to discourage Ian later. After all, he could have come up with something other than saying I was a whiny, smelly, trumpeting-snoring bad lay.

We reached a fork in the tunnel. Bones went to the left this time, and we ventured farther into the campus’s underbelly. Talk about private, I thought. We had to be at least fifty feet underground here.

“How about you just kill Ian and I kill Max?” I muttered. “That would solve a lot of undead political hassle, if you ask me.”

Bones stopped. He grasped my shoulders, and his face was very serious.

“If it came to a choice between you or Ian, Kitten, yes, I would cut him down. But despite our many feuds over the years, or the fact that he’s being a ruthless sod in his pursuit of you…” Bones closed his eyes for a moment. “We have a bond,” he said at last. “Ian changed me into what I am, and he’s been a part of my life for well over two centuries. If there’s a way to solve this without killing him, then that’s the route I’ll seek.”

A wave of shame swept over me. Idiot, I lashed myself. You should have known that.

“I’m sorry. Of course you couldn’t just kill him. I couldn’t, either, when I knew who he was.”

Bones smiled a trifle grimly. “I may well have to kill him before this is over. But if I do, at least I’ll know it was my only choice.”

We started walking again. Occasionally I saw graffiti along the walls, showing that these tunnels weren’t always kept free of visitors.

“Why is all this down here, anyway?”

“Used to be primarily steam tunnels,” Bones replied. “It was how they heated the university above. Now it’s also used for phone, computer, and electric wires as well. Some parts of these tunnels run all the way to the power plant. It’s right easy to get lost in here, if you don’t know where you’re going.”

Finally we reached another apex, and there, to my amazement, was an underground stream.

Bones stopped. “This is where we meet Mencheres.”

“No way,” I snorted.

After a minute, there was a grating noise. Then, just like something out of an old Dracula movie, a crypt-like door slowly opened in one of the walls and a dark-haired vampire came out of it. All he needs is a cape, I thought irreverently. Then it would be perfect.

The vampire didn’t have a cape, though, and I felt power slide all over my skin, sharp as an electric shock. Whoa. Whoever he is, he’s packing some serious voltage.

“Grandsire,” Bones said, stepping forward. “Thank you for coming.”

Mencheres looked no older than thirty. He had long black hair, charcoal-colored eyes, and a hawkishness to his nose that, combined with his finely tinted skin, suggested Middle Eastern ethnicity. But it was his power level that flabbergasted me. His crackling aura was like nothing I’d ever felt before. No wonder Bones had said Ian wouldn’t want Mencheres as his enemy. Feeling the power surging off him, neither did I.

“Bones,” he said, hugging my lover. “It has been too long.”

Okay, at least he sounded friendly.

Bones turned to me. “This is Cat.”

I came forward and stuck out my hand, unsure of what the proper protocol was. Mencheres gave me a slight smile and took it.

As soon as his fingers closed over mine, I wanted to jerk my hand back. Zing! I might as well have jammed my wet finger in a light socket. I managed to give him the barest shake, then I let go, using all my control not to rub my hand to try and get the numbness out of it. Later I’d have to ask Bones exactly how old Mencheres was. I was betting he measured birthdays by millennia, not centuries.

Once proper greetings were exchanged, Bones dove right in.

“I’m leaving Ian’s line,” he announced. “Ian wants her, and she wants to murder one of his people, so you can see why I need to shirk my loyalties to him and be head of my own line.”

Mencheres flicked his gaze to me. “Do you really think killing your father will make anything in your life better?”

I wasn’t prepared for that question, so my reply was a little stuttered.

“Uh, yeah. Hell yeah, in fact. For starters, I wouldn’t have to worry about hit men sighting my head in their scopes, and for another, I think it would be really, really satisfying.”

“Vengeance is the emptiest of emotions,” Mencheres said dismissively.

“Beats suppressed rage,” I shot back.

“I didn’t say it was her father she wanted to kill,” Bones interjected in a smooth voice. “How did you know that, Grandsire?”

How indeed? My brows lifted. Mencheres shrugged.

“You already know how.”

Bones seemed to accept that. I didn’t. “And?” I prodded.

“Mencheres sees things,” Bones replied. “Visions, glimpses of the future, that sort. It’s one of his