the mezzanine. I could feel them, the bats, the rats, all the little creatures that would answer my call. They were mine to command. Others too: the vampires—the Drones, the Soldiers, the Masters, all the undead who weren’t Vlads. I touched their minds and they quaked in their graves, in their beds, wherever they were.
Talbot rolled to his feet, claws reaching up toward the ceiling, and cut loose with more Cat-speak. It seemed important, incredibly earnest. He charged me again. At his touch, I was changed involuntarily back to my human form. I tried to push him away from me, but I was weak, too weak even to support myself. Warmth washed over my skin. My heart didn’t beat, but the warmth spread, seeping into my muscles, my organs, and even my bones. I was core warm.
Talbot looked back into my eyes, his face beaded with sweat, and he smiled. John Paul Courtney stood next to him, hat in hand, worried.
“They’re turning blue again,” John Paul said with glee. “I don’t know what you done, but you done good, cat.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Talbot said, ignoring JPC. “Sekhmet is kind to all her children.”
“That some kind of cat religion?” John Paul asked. “You guys pray to some cat god?”
“Cats don’t worship anyone,” Talbot said as he lowered me gently into a seat. “I just needed a little help from my mother.”
“You still think your mom’s an Egyptian goddess,” I said with half a smile.
“You still think she isn’t,” Talbot told me, “which is why I’ve never even started to tell you about my father.”
“You’re in deep shit now,” I said, suddenly grateful after all. “You gave me your blood again. You worked your cat magic for me again. What does that buy you, like a hundred more years of exile?”
Talbot didn’t answer.
Gladys burst in through the double doors, and Talbot stepped away. Gladys is the oldest of my thralls, older than me, but she doesn’t look a day over twenty-five now. Her hair, recently dyed purple (thanks to an errant comment from me), brushed against my face as she sat in my lap, pushing my mouth against her neck in case I wanted to feed, then cradling me against her breasts when it was clear that I didn’t.
Her breath tickled my scalp in calming bursts with each cooing shush that moved past her lips. “It’s all right,” she said. “It’s all right.”
Erin and Magbidion came next, followed at a restrained pace by Cheryl. Erin slid wordlessly into the seat next to me, her hand on my arm—her way of letting me know she was there if I needed her. She’d come out of her shell a lot since I took her and the other two away from Sweet Heart Row and made them thralls instead of blood whores, but she’d never be much of a talker. Blond bangs fell down over her face, mostly covering it. She squeezed my arm. Magbidion stood next to Talbot, shuffling his feet and looking for a place to stand where he’d be helpful and frustrated to find that the girls had it covered.
“You okay, boss?” That was Cheryl. She stood in the door, staring down at the other thralls with vague disapproval at the way they fawned over me. She likes me, she really does, but she doesn’t like that she likes me, which is why she’s kept her brown hair cut short when she knows I’d prefer it long.
“I’ll be fine.”
“You need anything before I go back across to the Demon Heart?”
“No. I’m good.”
“Send one of them back when you can,” she said. “I can’t do everything by myself.” She can, though, and we all know it, but that’s just Cheryl being Cheryl.
“Mags,” I said to the dark-haired man standing next to Talbot, “go help Cheryl. Gladys and Erin are going to tuck me in upstairs.”
“You got it, boss.” Damn, but he sounded chipper. I swear, you save someone’s soul from a demonic loan shark and they go all puppy dog on you.
“And Talbot . . .”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’ll go start work on that other thing as soon
Talbot rolled to his feet, claws reaching up toward the ceiling, and cut loose with more Cat-speak. It seemed important, incredibly earnest. He charged me again. At his touch, I was changed involuntarily back to my human form. I tried to push him away from me, but I was weak, too weak even to support myself. Warmth washed over my skin. My heart didn’t beat, but the warmth spread, seeping into my muscles, my organs, and even my bones. I was core warm.
Talbot looked back into my eyes, his face beaded with sweat, and he smiled. John Paul Courtney stood next to him, hat in hand, worried.
“They’re turning blue again,” John Paul said with glee. “I don’t know what you done, but you done good, cat.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Talbot said, ignoring JPC. “Sekhmet is kind to all her children.”
“That some kind of cat religion?” John Paul asked. “You guys pray to some cat god?”
“Cats don’t worship anyone,” Talbot said as he lowered me gently into a seat. “I just needed a little help from my mother.”
“You still think your mom’s an Egyptian goddess,” I said with half a smile.
“You still think she isn’t,” Talbot told me, “which is why I’ve never even started to tell you about my father.”
“You’re in deep shit now,” I said, suddenly grateful after all. “You gave me your blood again. You worked your cat magic for me again. What does that buy you, like a hundred more years of exile?”
Talbot didn’t answer.
Gladys burst in through the double doors, and Talbot stepped away. Gladys is the oldest of my thralls, older than me, but she doesn’t look a day over twenty-five now. Her hair, recently dyed purple (thanks to an errant comment from me), brushed against my face as she sat in my lap, pushing my mouth against her neck in case I wanted to feed, then cradling me against her breasts when it was clear that I didn’t.
Her breath tickled my scalp in calming bursts with each cooing shush that moved past her lips. “It’s all right,” she said. “It’s all right.”
Erin and Magbidion came next, followed at a restrained pace by Cheryl. Erin slid wordlessly into the seat next to me, her hand on my arm—her way of letting me know she was there if I needed her. She’d come out of her shell a lot since I took her and the other two away from Sweet Heart Row and made them thralls instead of blood whores, but she’d never be much of a talker. Blond bangs fell down over her face, mostly covering it. She squeezed my arm. Magbidion stood next to Talbot, shuffling his feet and looking for a place to stand where he’d be helpful and frustrated to find that the girls had it covered.
“You okay, boss?” That was Cheryl. She stood in the door, staring down at the other thralls with vague disapproval at the way they fawned over me. She likes me, she really does, but she doesn’t like that she likes me, which is why she’s kept her brown hair cut short when she knows I’d prefer it long.
“I’ll be fine.”
“You need anything before I go back across to the Demon Heart?”
“No. I’m good.”
“Send one of them back when you can,” she said. “I can’t do everything by myself.” She can, though, and we all know it, but that’s just Cheryl being Cheryl.
“Mags,” I said to the dark-haired man standing next to Talbot, “go help Cheryl. Gladys and Erin are going to tuck me in upstairs.”
“You got it, boss.” Damn, but he sounded chipper. I swear, you save someone’s soul from a demonic loan shark and they go all puppy dog on you.
“And Talbot . . .”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’ll go start work on that other thing as soon
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