“It’s cold,” I said.
“It is.”
Behind us, the Christmas tree lights came on, casting pale reds and blues and greens over the snow. I could hear Occam and Mud talking, their words blurred by the walls. Vampires could hear better than humans, but I didn’t ask what they were talking about. I pulled my knees up and eased my coat down over them, wrapping my arms around them to conserve body heat, and waited.
“I have houseguests,” Yummy said eventually. “Ming showed up on my doorstep at dawn, Ming and six others.”
“That sounds”—horrible—“crowded.”
“It was. Ming isn’t used to being an unwanted guest in someone else’s lair. She lacks—let’s call it social graces. I found them a place to live. They’re moving into the new place tomorrow night. It’s a rental unit and will not be up to their standards, but it was the best I could do on short notice, until they can get the clan home and the barns rebuilt.”
“Cai is dead,” I said.
I felt the jolt rush through her. “How? When?”
“Last night, we think. Torquemada and/or his men tortured him, bleeding and reading, and killed him. I was going to call Ming tonight and tell her.”
“My job. I’ll do it.” After a time she said, much more softly, “It’ll destroy her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. Cai was a bastard and a pain in the butt, but he was loyal. And he loved Ming with all his heart. My kind don’t get true love often in this undeath.” The tone beneath the words was angry, not sad, and I wondered if she was thinking about Inigo or the vampire who made her and then abandoned her. “When can we have his body?”
“Tomorrow sometime. I gave your number to the forensic coroner’s people to contact. I’m sorry,” I said again.
“Me too. I’ll head home to tell her, if you’re okay with that.”
“I’m okay. Don’t get your throat torn out or your head ripped off.”
“Not on my list of ways to die.”
“You have a list of ways to die?” I asked, surprised.
“You don’t?” she asked, sounding equally surprised. And then she was gone with a little pop of sound.
“No,” I said to the night sky, which was black and sparkling with stars. I closed my eyes and breathed, feeling the tension ease away with each exhale.
The door behind and above me opened. Cherry raced outside and leaped off the porch, landing in deep snow. She bounded up and landed again.
“Goofball,” Occam said from the doorway.
“Yeah.” I stood and walked up the steps to Occam, and inside. I was pretty sure I was shaking like a leaf—which was actually pretty funny since I had quivering leaves in my hairline and eyebrows and at my fingertips. I went straight to the refrigerator and poured myself a double serving of Sister Erasmus’ wine and chugged it down. Then I pinched off my leaves, tossed them and the others I had collected in a pocket during the day into the firebox, and started putting dishes on the table.
* * *
After a hearty meal of cheese toast made with day-old bread and leftover soup, Occam said, “We ain’t seen a grindy in a week or more.” He took a bite of the greasy goodness of bread and cheese, chewed, swallowed, and lounged in the old turned spindle-back chair. The wood creaked.
“Okay. I know that,” I said. “Even though Rick nearly changed into his cat, totally out of control, and we have Rettell in town and all that…were stuff going on?”
Occam nodded. “Even though. The Dark Queen supposedly helped free an angel from a partial binding and also banished a demon. That might have been the same night that the vampires got back their souls. From what Alex Younger said, the angel’s last words to her were that the curses—and we don’t know which curses—are either gone or changed. That might have been around the last time I saw a grindylow.”
“But we don’t know exactly what kind of change, if any,” I said.
“The Dark Queen’s put out the word, requesting blood and saliva samples donated from every were-creature she can get toagree. She owns a privately run laboratory in Texas that will analyze the samples to see if the were-taint is gone.”
“She thinks you’un all might not be contagious anymore?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why that sent a shiver of fear through me. It would be a good thing, right? If Occam couldn’t infect anyone? And then I understood my spurt of fear. If he couldn’t infect someone else, he didn’t need me. Were-creatures couldn’t infect plant-people. We were acceptable mates to were-creatures. Now…Now Occam could have anyone.
Does he still want me?“You think your curse is gone?” I asked. “Do you feel any different?”
