Bone Crossed

The door was shut and the knob wouldn't turn. "Let me in," I ordered in a voice I hardly recognized as mine.

"No. No," said John's voice. "You can't kill him. I'll be alone."

But the door opened, and that was all I cared about.

I didn't see John, but Catherine was kneeling beside Blackwood. She spared a glare for me, but she was paying more attention to the dying (I fervently hoped) vampire.

"Let me drink, dear," she crooned to him. "Let me drink, and I'll take care of her for you."

He looked at me as he tried to get his arms underneath him. "Drink," he said. Then he smiled at me.

With a crow of triumph she bent her head.

She was still drinking when the butcher knife swooshed through her insubstantial head and cut cleanly through Blackwood's neck. An axe would have been better, but with his strength still lingering in my arms, the butcher knife got the job done. A second cut took his head completely off.

His head touched my toes, and I edged them away. A knife in either hand, I had no chance to feel triumphant or sick at what I'd done. Not with a very solid Catherine smiling her grandmotherly smile only six feet from me.

She smiled, her mouth red with Blackwood's blood. "Die," she said, and reached out—

Last year Sensei spent six months on sai forms. The knives weren't so well-balanced for fighting, but they worked. It was a butcher's job I made of it—and I managed it only by clinging fiercely to the here and now. The floors, the walls, and I were all drenched in blood. And she wasn't dead… or rather she was dead already. The knives kept her off me, but none of the wounds seemed to affect her at all.

"Throw me the stick," said the oakman softly.

I dropped the French chef's knife and grabbed the staff with my free hand. It slid out of Blackwood's back as if it didn't want to be there. For a moment I thought that the end was a sharp point, but my attention was focused on Catherine and I couldn't be sure.

I tossed it to the Oakman and drove Catherine away from Corban's cage. He'd collapsed when I'd cut off Blackwood's head in a motion not unlike Amber's zombie. I hoped he wasn't dead—but there wasn't anything I could do about it if he was.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the oakman lick the blood-covered stick with a tongue at least eight inches long. "Death blood is best," he told me. And then he flung the stick at the outside wall, and said a word…

The blast knocked me off my feet and onto Blackwood's corpse. Something hit me in the back of the head.

I STARED AT THE POOL OF SUNLIGHT THAT COVERED MY hand. It took me a moment to realize that whatever had hit me must have knocked me out. Under my hand was a thick pile of ash, and I jerked away. Buried in the ash was a key. It was a pretty key, one of those ornate skeleton keys. It took all my willpower to put my hand back into what had been Blackwood and pick it up. I hurt from head to heels, but the bruises the vampire had inflicted after Chad escaped were mostly gone. And the others were fading as I watched.

I didn't want to think about that too much.

The oakman had a hand stretched though the bars, but he hadn't been able to touch the sunlight streaming into the basement from the hole he'd blasted in the wall with my walking stick. His eyes were closed.

I opened the cage, but he didn't move. I had to drag him out. I didn't pay attention to whether or not he was breathing. Or I tried very hard not to. So what if he wasn't, I thought. Fae are very hard to kill.

"Mercy?" It was Corban.

I stared at him a moment, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Could you unlock my door?" His voice was soft and gentle. The sort of voice you'd use on a madwoman.

I looked down at myself and realized that I was naked and covered with blood from head to toe. The butcher knife was still in my left hand. My hand had cramped around it, and I had to work to drop it on the floor.

The key unlocked Corban's door, too.

"Chad's with some friends of mine," I told him. My voice slurred a bit, and I recognized that I was a little shocky. The realization helped me a little, and my voice was clearer when I told him, "The kinds of friends who might be able to protect a boy from a vampire run amok."

"Thank you," he said. "You were unconscious a long time. How are you feeling?"

I gave him a tired smile. "My head hurts."

"Let's get you cleaned up."

He led me up the stairs. I didn't think that I should have grabbed my clothes until I stood alone in a huge, gold-and-black bathroom. I turned the shower on.

"John," I said. I didn't bother looking for him because I could feel him. "You will never harm anyone again." I felt the push of magic that told me whatever it was I could do to ghosts had worked on him. So

I added, "And get out of this bathroom," for good measure.

I scrubbed myself raw and wrapped myself in a towel big enough for three of me. When I came out, Corban was pacing in the hall in front of the bathroom.

"Who do you call about something like this?" he asked. "It doesn't look good. Blackwood is missing; Amber is dead—probably buried in the backyard. I'm a lawyer, and if I were my own client, I'd advise myself to avoid trial, plead guilty, and do reduced time if I could get it."

He was scared.

It finally occurred to me that we'd survived. Blackwood and his sweet grandmotherly vampire ghost were gone. Or at least I hoped she was gone. There wasn't a second pile of ashes in the basement.

"Did you notice the other vampire?" I asked him.

He gave me a blank look. "Other vampire?"

"Never mind," I told him. "I expect the sunlight killed her."

I got up and found a phone on a small table in the corner of the living room. I dialed Adam's cell phone.

"Hey," I said. It sounded like I'd been smoking cigars all night.

"Mercy?" And I knew I was safe.

I sat on the floor. "Hey." I said again.

"Chad told us where you are," he told me. "We're about twenty minutes away."

"Chad told you?" Stefan would still be unconscious, I'd known. It just hadn't occurred to me that Chad could tell them where we were. Stupid me. All he'd have needed was a piece of paper.

"Chad's all right?" asked Corban urgently.

"Fine," I told him. "And he's leading the cavalry here."

"It sounds like we're not needed," said Adam.

I needed him.

"Blackwood is dead," I told Adam.

"I thought so, since you are calling me," Adam said.

"If it weren't for the oakman, it might have been bad," I told him. "And I think the oakman is dead."

"All honor to him, then," said Samuel's voice. "To die killing one of the dark-bound evils is not a bad thing, Mercy. Chad asks after his father."

I wiped my face and gathered my thoughts. "Tell Chad he's fine. We're both fine." I watched bruises fade from my legs. "Could you… could you stop at a convenience store and buy a yellow toy car for me? Bring it with you when you come?"

There was a little pause. "A yellow toy car?" asked Adam.

"That's right." I remembered something else. "Adam, Corban's worried that the police will think he's killed Amber-and probably Blackwood, though there won't be any body."

"Trust me," said Adam. "We'll fix it for everyone."

"All right," I told him. "Thank you." And then I thought a little more. "The vampires will want Chad and

Corban gone. They know too much."

"You and Stefan and the pack are the only ones who know that," said Adam. "The pack doesn't care, and Stefan won't betray them."

"Hey," I told him lightly—pressing the handset into my face until it almost hurt. "I love you."

"I'll be there."

I LEFT CORBAN SITTING IN THE LIVING ROOM AND WALKED reluctantly down the stairs. I didn't want to know for sure that the oakman was dead. I didn't want to confront Catherine if she was still about… and I thought she would have killed me if she could have. But I also didn't want to be naked when Adam came.