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“We had a choice, Dave, and now you have to make one, too. These two brought you back, but there’s a price. Your humanity died with you, and nothing can change that. You’re only with us now…because you’re a ghoul. I’m so sorry for not warning you in time when that vampire ran out of the cave. He killed you, but you can continue on…undead.”
The denial filled his features as he looked at us, his surroundings, and then the headstone.
“Look, mate, feel your neck,” Bones said practically. “You don’t have a pulse. Take that knife.” He pointed at the instrument that had been busy all evening. “Slice it across your hand. See what happens.”
Dave cautiously placed two fingers to his throat, waited, and then his eyes bugged. He grasped the bloodied blade and drew it swiftly across his forearm. A thin line of blood welled before his flesh neatly closed together, and then he screamed.
I abandoned my previous position and clutched his hands. “Dave, let me tell you from experience that you can overcome an unexpected heritage. We are who we make ourselves to be, no matter what. No matter what. You’re still you. You’ll still laugh, cry, do your job, lose at poker…We all love you, listen to me. There’s more to you than your heartbeat! So much more.”
He started to cry, pink tears leaking out of his eyes. Juan, Tate, and I wrapped him in a group hug, covering him as he shook. Finally he pushed us back and wiped his eyes, staring at the blood on his fingers.
“I don’t feel dead,” he whispered. “I remember…hearing you scream, Cat, and seeing your face, but I don’t remember dying! And how can I go on if I’m dead?”
Tate answered fiercely, “Dead is stuffed inside that box, not what you are now. You’re my friend, always will be, no matter what the fuck you eat. I didn’t believe that pale prick when he said he could wake you up, but you’re here, and don’t you dare think of covering yourself back up with dirt. I need you, buddy. It’s been hell without you.”
“I missed you, amigo,” Juan said in almost incoherently accented English. “You can’t leave me again. Tate’s boring and Cooper only wants to train. You stay.”
Dave stared at us. “What’s been going on that you have a vampire and a ghoul raising the dead for you?”
I clutched his other hand. “Come with us and we’ll tell you all of it. You’ll be all right, I promise you. You used to trust me before; please, please trust me now.”
He sat where he was, silently staring at the headstone and the faces close to him. At last a wry smile twisted his lips.
“This is the weirdest thing of all. I feel fine. My mind’s cotton candy, but for a dead man, I feel pretty goddamn great. Are we in a cemetery?”
At my nod, he slowly stood up. “I hate cemeteries. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I threw my arms around him and the tears fell again, but this time, I smiled through them.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
Juan led him out of the tent. Wordlessly, Don clapped a hand on his back, his own gaze shiny as they walked away. Bones still sat on the ground by Rodney.
I flung myself on him so hard it flattened him, heedless of the blood soaking him. With all my joy I kissed him, and when I finally pulled back, he smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
“Ahem.” Rodney gri
I gave him a fervent lip-lock of gratitude that had Bones snatching me back with a snort of amusement.
“That’s thanks enough, luv. You won’t be able to get rid of him if you keep it up.”
“You look awful, Bones. God, is it always that brutal?”
Rodney answered the question. “No, not normally. Just about a pint usually does the trick, but your boy was cold for a long time. Frankly, I didn’t think it would work. You’re lucky Bones is strong.”
“I am lucky,” I agreed, but not only for that reason.
“Hey Crypt Keeper.”
It was Tate, and he had a resolute look to his face.
“I keep my word, so I’m here to say I’m sorry for saying you were full of shit, and in this case, I’m fucking thrilled to be wrong. Since vampires are more about actions than words, though, you can have a swig at my expense. You look like shit. Anybody ever told you you’re too pale?”
Bones laughed. “Once or twice, and since I’m knackered, I’ll take you up on your offer.”
He rose to his feet and Tate tilted his head. “Don’t kiss me first,” he snidely remarked.
Bones didn’t reply to that, but just sank his teeth into him. A minute later, his blond head lifted.
“Apology accepted. Kitten, we don’t want to keep your friend waiting. He has a lot to learn. Rodney, your assistance was greatly appreciated, but I know you want to go. I’ll ring you in a few days.”
I gave the ghoul a last hug before he disappeared into the night. Bones walked with his arm around me while Tate kept pace at my side.
“We still have to deal with my mother,” I said.
“Indeed, yes. Can’t have her trying to kill me all the time, can we? But don’t fret. She won’t be any harder to manage than raising the dead.”
“Don’t be so sure.” But even my mother couldn’t dampen my mood. Not with the empty grave behind me, and its former occupant waiting ahead of us by the car.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This past year has really driven home why books have an acknowledgments page. Writing an initial draft might be done in solitude, but everything after that isn’t.
First, I want to thank God, for granting me what I hadn’t even dared to pray for.
Next, I want to thank my husband, Matthew, for giving me the love and support that made me believe I could pursue my dreams, and for accepting me as I am, which has made all the difference.
I want to thank the fans of the Night Huntress series. Your enthusiasm for my characters means more to me than I can ever express.
I owe a huge thank you to my editor, Erika Tsang, who really rolled up her sleeves with me on this one. Aside from her outstanding feedback on what was and wasn’t needed to get this story told, she also spent an hour with me discussing the varied potentials for a ghoul’s diet (hope your appetite has finally recovered!). You’re the best, Erika.
Thanks go to my agent, Rachel Vater. I can’t imagine anyone else helping me along this journey.
Immense gratitude goes to Tom Egner, for my gorgeous covers. Further thanks go to the wonderful people at Avon Books, who’ve made my experience with the publishing world such a pleasant one.
Sincerest thanks go to Melissa Marr, Jordan Summers, Mark Del Franco, and Rhona Westbrook, for beta-reading OFITG and keeping me on track. Also thanks to Vicki Pettersson, for enough hours of encouragement to warrant therapy payments.
Of course, I’m grateful to my family, especially my parents and sisters. Your unconditional support has meant the world to me.
Last but not least, I want to again thank Melissa Marr. You’ll never know how important your friendship has been along this strange, bumpy road. I’d try to articulate, but we both know you’re better with words than I am.