One Foot in the Grave (Night Huntress 2)

Dave frowned at the three of us.

"What happened? You guys look awful...Am I in the hospital?"

I opened my mouth to respond when he reared back suddenly and sat up.

"There's a vampire! What..."

He finally noticed the blood. Bones was also covered in it where he sat a few feet away. I held Dave by the shoulders and spoke urgently to him.

"Don't move yet. Your chest hasn't knitted together completely."

"What-?" He looked down at himself, and then around the tented area before his eyes settled on the coffin and the headstone bearing his name.

"Dave, listen to me." My voice was thick. "Don't worry about the vampire; he won't hurt you. Neither will the ghoul next to him. You...you weren't hurt in that cave in Ohio. You were killed. This is your grave, and that's the coffin you've been inside for the past three months. You died that day, but...we brought you back."

He stared at me as though I'd gone crazy, then a heartbreaking smile tugged his lips.

"You're trying to scare me for breaking formation. I knew you'd be mad, but I never thought you'd go this far-"

"She's not trying to scare you," Tate croaked through his tears. "You died. We saw you die."

Dave glanced in alarm at Juan, who gulped and hugged him hard, crawling behind him.

"Mi amigo, you were dead."

"But what...how..."

I went to Bones and Rodney, laying a hand on each of them.

"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 f**k 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 f**k 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 grinned. "I helped, too, remember?"

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 f**king 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.