One Foot in the Grave

I’m afraid you’ve got three hundred and sixty-five more days before you can issue that same challenge to me. I wonder what we’ll do to fill the time.”

Ian’s grin said he had a few choice ideas picked out already. Inwardly I cursed. Goddamn, why hadn’t I made sure to find out more about lineage and lines before deciding this was a good idea? Why had I let my blinding need for revenge against my father trick me into hiding this from Bones? Mencheres had said revenge was the emptiest of emotions. Apparently it motivated people to do the stupidest things as well.

“Except I’m already Bones’s,” I said, using the property card as a last resort. “He’s bitten me and done things in bed with me that are illegal in a few states at least!”

“Lineage trumps property, my dear Reaper,” Ian said silkily. “So while Crispin will no doubt have fond memories of your time together…memories are all he’ll have of you.”

“I beg to differ, Ian,” Bones replied, straightening. “You’re right, lineage does have a higher claim than property. But you have no claim over her if she’s my wife.”

Ian looked as confused as I felt. “But she isn’t,” he stated the obvious.

Bones pulled a knife out from his pocket. I tensed, assuming this meant we were starting the free-for-all. But Bones just drew it once across his palm and then clapped his bleeding hand over my own.

“By my blood, you are my wife,” he said in a clear voice. Then he said more softly to me, “I rather envisioned something more romantic for this, Kitten, but circumstances don’t allow for that.”

“You must be mad!” Ian raged, snatching his own blade from his pants.

“Do not move!” a voice thundered down at once.

Ian froze, and Bones, in the act of whipping his own knife toward Ian, froze as well. A dark-haired figure glided down the aisle, people moving aside to let him through. I didn’t even need to see his face to know it was Mencheres. The unadulterated power washing over me told me that.

“Mencheres,” Bones said, with an inclination of his head. “Am I correct in my assumption?”

“In all ways but one” was the vampire’s smooth reply.

“You have ever taken his side over mine!” Ian snapped, losing his quiet deference.

Bones rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”

“It is not a matter of sides,” Mencheres stated calmly. “I said Bones was right in all ways but one. Cat has not yet claimed him as her husband.”

Ian snatched at that. “You don’t know what that means, Cat. This isn’t like a human marriage, where divorce is as common as breathing. If you agree to this, you’d be bound to Crispin for the rest of your life. No changing your mind, no release from it, until one of you was truly dead. If you even shagged another man, he’d have the right to kill him for it without retribution.”

Mencheres smiled, but it wasn’t cheery. “Yes. Once this is declared, it can never be retracted.”

Brown eyes met mine when I looked away from Mencheres. Bones arched a brow, waiting.

“Don’t you think it’s time you met your father?” Ian baited me next.

That got my attention. I swung back in his direction, and my hand clenched over the knife I’d just accepted from Bones.

Ian pressed his advantage. “I’ll make you a bargain, Cat. A vastly different one from what I’d first intended. You can leave here tonight with my assurances that I won’t press my claim over you, or trouble your men again. Furthermore, I’ll give you Max, to do with what you will. All I require in return is that you refuse this offer and part company with Crispin permanently. Your word on it.”

My mouth hung open, fingers whitening over the handle of the blade.

“Maximillian, come here!” Ian trumpeted.

The doors to the hall opened, and Spade moved out of the way to let a tall man through. Well, well. Apparently that picture had showed only a glimmer of our resemblance. Face to face there was no question. I did look just like him.

I pulled my hand free from Bones in a sort of shock. Max went to the edge of the arena and then paused, not coming nearer. I walked the last few steps that separated us.

His hair was crimson, just as bright and thick as my own. God, those eyes, silvery gray and exactly like mine. He had high cheekbones, a full mouth, straight nose, strong jawline…Everything was identical to me but in masculine proportion. Even the way he stood was similar. It was like looking in a weird gender-bending mirror, and for a minute, all I could do was stare.

For his part, Max didn’t say anything. His face flashed defiance and resignation in equal parts as he looked from me to Ian. He didn’t ask for mercy, though. Not from either of us. Was that bravery…or a simple realization that it wouldn’t do him a damn bit of good?

Finally I found my voice. “Do you know what I promised myself when my mother told me what I was, and how it happened?”

I slid as close to him as possible without touching. He held himself stiffly, like one of the statues outside. Only his eyes moved, and they followed me with rapt concentration.

My fingers grazed his shoulders as I circled him. He flinched under their weight, and I laughed low and viciously.

“Oh, Max, I feel your power level, and it’s not that high. I’m much stronger than you are, but you must know that, right? It’s why you tried to have my head blown off, so I couldn’t get to you first. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to kill you?”

Still he said nothing. Ian gave me a questioning glance, but I ignored him. He didn’t know what Max had arranged; it was plain. I paced around my father, getting angrier that he wasn’t talking.

“I first heard about you on my sixteenth birthday. Sweet sixteen, and what did I get? The full knowledge about my nightmare of a heritage. So I swore to myself that one day, I’d find and kill you for her. That you’d pay for raping my mother with your life. Did you hear what Ian just offered me? Your ass, with all the other parts attached!”

The rage leaked out of my pores, and my eyes blasted him with their glow when I faced him again.

“Come on, Max, whatcha think? What a gift, right? Who could say no to that? I mean, I’ve wanted to kill you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole twisted, subnormal, dysfunctional life!”

The knife Bones had given me trembled in my hand with the ache to bury it in his heart. Finally, after another long stare, I chuckled again. Bittersweetly. My need for revenge had almost cost me Bones once tonight. At least I wouldn’t let myself make that same mistake twice.

“You worthless piece of shit, you’re about to do the first, last, and only thing you’ve ever done for me as a father, because there’s someone in my life who means more to me than even killing you. Congratulations, scum. You just gave away the bride.”

Instead of twisting that knife through my father’s heart, I slashed it across my palm and slapped it over the pale hand still outstretched to me.

“Bound together forever, huh? Sounds good to me. By my blood, Bones, you are my husband. Is that what I’m supposed to say? Is that right?”

Bones bent me backward with the force of his kiss, and I assumed that was my answer.

THIRTY-EIGHT

MAX BROKE HIS SILENCE ONLY AFTER BONES let me up from his kiss. He raked me with a glance and then smiled. Chillingly.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Do you believe that, little girl? I do. You and I will have our day, mark my words.”

“Is he threatening her?” Bones asked Ian with a cold pleasantness as I met my father’s steely gaze. “Perhaps you need to remind him that anyone who comes after my wife-or anyone belonging to her, such as her uncle-is in fact declaring war on me as well. Is that your position, Ian? Does he speak for you?”

Ian gave Max a truly menacing glare. “No he does not, and he has nothing else to say on the matter. Do you, Max?”