Blood Song

else for tonight’s kil , and we might lose her.”

“I know that.” He scowled.

“But we don’t dare leave them unprotected knowing that she’s singled this place out, and that kid in

particular.”

He was losing patience, but I wanted to make sure that we al were on the same page about the plan.

If he wanted to be pissy, fine, but better safe than sorry. There was no room for error here. Not with

lives at stake.

“So, we set up an invisible boundary line, a magical trip wire as it were. When she crosses over, it

signals both of you and you each raise a perimeter—one in front of her, one behind. Trapped between

them, she’l be pinned down enough that we can take her out with minimal risk.”

I watched him rol ing the plan over in his mind, looking for flaws. Honestly, I was surprised it wasn’t

one of the standard plans used by the order, but then again, maybe they didn’t get a lot of mages. It

wouldn’t surprise me. The church doesn’t pay nearly as wel as the private sector, and while the militant

orders only ask for a five-year stint, they stil require abstinence for the duration. Not too many people

are interested in that lifestyle anymore.

The plan wasn’t perfect by any means. First, it assumed she would come here, tonight. I thought she

would. But I wasn’t a clairvoyant. I was basing the whole idea on a hunch and my personal experience

of human nature. I’d bet money the vamp would strike here tonight—but not a lot of money.

Too, it would take a coordinated effort. And with both Bruno and Matty tied up working the spel , I’d

have to to take her out. Not that I couldn’t do it. I’ve done for more than a few bats in my time, after al .

Silver bul ets and holy water to wound her enough to move in for a kil , then a stake, and beheading with

an axe. Messy and gross, but effective. Of course, now that I had my spiffy new knives, it might be

easier to use them for the kil . I’d stil do the staking and beheading, after, and I’d stil make sure the

authorities took the body and the head to separate crematoria and spread the ashes over running

water. Paranoid? Maybe. But I didn’t like taking chances. I particularly wasn’t going to take chances

with a creature as old and powerful as this one.

“It could actual y work.” There was an unflattering amount of surprise in Matty’s voice. Being a grownup, I ignored it.

“Can you think of anything better?” Bruno chal enged him.

Matty sighed. “No.” He made the concession with il grace, but I appreciated his honesty.

“Between the three of us, we can handle one vampire.” Bruno sounded supremely confident.

Talk about your famous last words.

18

I should’ve been exhausted. God knows it had been a rough couple of days and I’d had too little

sleep. But I was wired and jumpy, too tired to sleep. So I dropped Bruno off at his hotel, promising to

pick him up wel before sunset. The rest of the afternoon I spent running errands: visiting the attorney

about Vicki’s funeral arrangements, seeing Isaac about making a replacement jacket and having it

delivered ASAP. Dawna had texted me several times—about Bruno mostly, although she did send word

that Gwendolyn Talbert had cal ed me back.

That was one cal I needed to return. I pul ed off into a shady parking lot to dial.

“Hel o.”

“Gwen? It’s me.”

“Celia! It’s good to hear your voice.” She paused. “I was so sorry to hear about Vicki. How are you

holding up?”

“Not wel ,” I admitted. “Did you get my message?”

“Yes, and I can’t say how sorry I am that I can’t help you. When I retired I let my certification lapse.

But I’ve got a few names for you. They’re real y excel ent. And if you’d be wil ing to try an inpatient

stay—”

“No.”

She sighed. “I know you don’t like the idea. But admitting you need help is not a failure.”

“I’m not locking myself up, Gwen. Particularly not now. Not if I can help it.”

“Why particularly not now?”

I forced myself to stay calm and answer her question rational y. “Because I look like a monster—a

vampire. It frightens people. If they lock me up, they just might throw away the key.” The next words

came tumbling out as if of their own volition. “And when the money is gone, they’l send me to the state.”

She didn’t argue the point. She was too honest for that. In fact, she was honest enough to admit I had

reason to be afraid. “But can you be sure they won’t lock you up anyway? If you’re real y as frightening

as you claim, what’s to keep the authorities from treating you like any other monster?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that was freaking terrifying.

When I didn’t answer, she let it go, not pushing further. “It’s your choice. But I worry for you, Celia.”

“You and me both.”

She sighed. “Just think about it, okay? In the meantime, try one of these.”

I wrote the names and phone numbers she gave me on the back of an envelope. We didn’t talk too

much after that. There was an awkwardness between us that hadn’t been there before, as if the wal of

professionalism had gotten tal er and thicker after she retired. It made me a little bit sad. Stil , I thanked

her, and promised I’d set an appointment with somebody.

I kept checking my mirror as I drove around town doing my errands. I’d half-expected to find Dee and

Dum fol owing me, but there was no sign of them—or they were good enough that I couldn’t catch them.

Unsettling thought, that. Stil , I pretended it didn’t bother me and went about my business. By the time I

let myself into Bruno’s hotel suite I had accomplished quite a lot, but none of it was earth-shattering.

As I opened the door, I could faintly hear the sound of running water and Bruno’s spirited rendition of

“Copacabana.” I shook my head, smiling. Some things never change. At one point or another al six of

Mama DeLuca’s boys had been cal ed on to sing at their uncle Sal’s lounge. But only Bruno real y took

to it. He has a great voice and an honest love of songs I consider just too cheesy.

“It’s me,” I cal ed out, even though I was pretty sure he already knew. “And I brought Chinese.” I’d

cal ed in the order and used the drive-up so as not to scare anyone.

I heard the water shut off. “Bless you, woman, I’m starving.”

He was always “starving.” Only the fact that he had the metabolism of a chipmunk on speed kept him

from becoming as wide as he was tal . I’d chosen Chinese because it’s the one type of ethnic food I

don’t like. Something about the smel , I think. Or maybe the look of it just turns me off. But I could bring

him Chinese food and not get aggravated at having to suck down yet another shake.

I glanced around the room. It was nice but nothing fancy. Standard pair of double beds, one recently

used, a large window with blackout curtains, nice dark wood table and chairs, with a matching armoire

to house the television and store clothing. I pul ed a chair away from the table and sat down just as

Bruno ducked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.

I stared.

Hel , I’d dare any red-blooded heterosexual woman not to.