“I can hold her.” Gatsby’s voice tightens with strain as Daisy begins to struggle in his arms. “You’ll have to come get Cernunnos. I don’t think he’s able to walk there on his own.”
“Because she fucking ruined him.” Lloyd’s voice rises sharply. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second. “I swear, Daisy, I’ll have your little blond head one of these days. If you weren’t immune to me, I’d eat your soul, slowly, over several years. That’s another part of the Gancanagh lore, one people don’t like to talk about—the way we swallow souls gradually. I’m a bit of a gourmet in that department. That’s how I met you, Dorian. You were so beautiful. I desperately wanted to taste your soul…but as it happened, your soul was safe from me, trapped in that fascinating portrait. I assume, since you’re here, that you have a new portrait now. Anyway…as for the soul-eating process, it usually takes several months. I like to savor each bite, and my victims never realize what’s happening until it’s done. But for you, Daisy, I’d slow the process down even further. Keep you in a cage, make it really torturous.” He sighs. “That will have to wait, I suppose. Nicky, be a dear and bring me my broken god.”
Nick glances at Gatsby, who nods.
Sighing again, Lloyd adds, “JustonceI’d like for this process to go smoothly. Is that too much to ask for? Well, as they say, third time’s the charm.”
Nick propels Cernunnos toward Lloyd, past the muzzle of Hindley’s shotgun. In that second, Dorian leaps in front of Baz, shielding her with his body.
Lloyd clucks rebukingly. “Dorian, my love, I warned you not to do that. Now I’ll have to choose someone to shoot as punishment.” He scans the church, and his eyes land on me. “Let’s take out Dumb-As-Balls over there. Shoot him now.”
Hindley aims the shotgun at me. I pin Cathy to my back, holding her there with my strength in case she tries to save me.
Across the church, Hindley’s eyes lock with mine. He’s a good shot. No chance of him missing.
“Let Daisy at him,” hisses Cody. “We can take them out, all of us.”
But Gatsby says nothing, and without his word, nobody moves.
Hindley licks his lips. Renews his grip on the shotgun.
“Do it,” says Lloyd.
“He’s my fuckin’ brother.”
Now you say it?I want to yell. After all this, now you fucking say it?
“He’s not even your blood,” sneers Lloyd.
Hindley clears his throat. “Ain’t always about blood.”
“Yes, it is. It isalwaysabout blood.”
But Hindley’s shaking his head. “You take Kare-noon-us there and git going. He’s what you want. I’ll hold ’em here until you’re gone.”
Lloyd gives him the coldest stare I’ve ever seen, and suddenly I remember what his soul felt like as it slid back into his body. A slimy,clawed thing, hateful and vicious and determined to hang on to life with its teeth.
Without another word, Lloyd turns and walks out of the church, leading the docile Cernunnos with him.
“Are we just going to let him go?” Cody asks.
“For now,” says Gatsby.
“For good.” Nick retreats to Cody’s side again. “We got our vacation coming up, remember? Just you and me. We deserve it. Ever since we met it’s been nothing but danger and drama.”
Cody looks over at Nick, speaking in his soft British accent. “I know. But I also know what happens when you run from someone like Lloyd-Henry Woodson. Maybe he doesn’t hurt you anymore, not directly, but he’ll hurt others, won’t he? In this case, maybe thousands of others. We have to go after him.”
“None of you’s goin’ anywhere,” says Hindley. “You’re all staying here until the Coosaw Lockwoods arrive. Then we’ll see.” He swings the gun around, raking his sight line across everyone in the church—and as the gun swerves away from me, Cody pounces.
He’s on Hindley in a second, ignoring the spatter of shot through his body as the gun booms. Then Hindley’s down, the gun knocked out of his hand, and Cody is crouching over him with gleaming eyes. The vampire looks up at Daisy, who is still struggling in Gatsby’s arms, and he says, “Come on, Coffee Beans. Drink your fill. Sorry if he tastes like asshole.”
Gatsby releases Daisy, and she’s off like a shot, crashing to her knees beside Hindley and sinking her fangs deep into his neck while Cody keeps his arms pinned.
“Looks like she doesn’t mind the flavor of asshole,” Baz comments.
“Neither do I,” Dorian says with a suggestive grin, and Nickhowls with laughter. It’s the reckless, hysterical kind of laughter that comes after a crisis. And I can’t help chuckling myself.
29
