This Side of the Grave (Night Huntress 5)

I pursed my lips. Much as that option appealed to me because it represented the least amount of danger, it wasn't practical.

"Ghosts are usually ignored, but for Fabian to glean the same amount of intel that Dave could while posing as a new recruit, he'd have to practically piggyback those ghouls. If they put two and two together about the same ghost always being around, they could feed us misinformation through him."

Sometimes the old-fashioned way was the best choice, even if it meant a greater risk.

Tate pulled the needle out of his arm, and the small hole healed before he'd handed over the now full bag.

"There's someone else who might be useful with this operation," he said slowly. "A freelance reporter who keeps exposing classified paranormal information to the public."

"How can a reporter help track a group of ghoul zealots? I doubt they advertise their anti-vampire rallies in the newspaper."

"This guy's got good instincts," Tate replied with a touch of grimness. "So good that we now have an employee whose sole job is to find ways to discredit him every time his Ugly Truth e-zine goes up with way too many things the public isn't ready to know." I wasn't convinced a reporter would help. Especially one who blitzed the Internet with supernaturally sensitive information, but far be it for me to leave any stone unturned.

"So you're going to apprehend this modern-day Morpheus and talk him into aiding our cause?"

Tate's mouth curled. "No, Cat. You are, because for starters, he happens to be in Ohio."

Chapter Seven

I gazed at the narrow road in front ofus, thick trees on either side giving the area a naturally secluded feel.

"Of all the places, figures he'd come here," I muttered. "If we're even let in the door, I'll be amazed."

Bones slanted a grin my way as he steered the car off the road onto a gravel drive. An open gate about a mile ahead was the only indicator that this road led to something other than a dead end.

"We'll get in. Trust me."

Once we were through the chain-link gate, a large warehouse came into view. From the outside, it looked abandoned, windows boarded up and only a few scraps of trash in the empty parking lot. If I didn't have supernatural hearing, I wouldn't have caught the music wafting out from the soundproofed walls, but snatches of songs rode on the wind as unseen doors periodically opened.

Bones drove around to the back. Once behind the warehouse, another parking area came into view, this one packed with cars. Because of its unusual clientele, the real entrance to the club was here, the decrepit warehouse image in front set up only to discourage motorists accidentally passing by.

"Why don't we just hang out here until he comes out of the club?" I asked. "If we go inside, we might be recognized."

I'd left my wedding ring at the hotel we checked into, but I hadn't dyed my hair or done anything else to disguise my appearance. And Bones's looks meant he stood out no matter what color his hair was.

He shrugged. "It's better if we are recognized. We'll only be in Ohio a few more days, but if we're seen frequenting pubs, there's less chance those ghouls will think we're on to them.

They'd expect us to stay hidden if we were."

He had a point. I'd expected us to stay hidden, after all.

"Besides." Something cold glittered in Bones's eyes even though his voice remained light. "If they think we're unaware of any danger, some of them might be thick enough to try taking us on. I'd only need to keep one alive to verify that it's Apollyon behind these attacks." I shifted in my seat. Put me in a straight-up fight and I had no qualms about getting lethal, but when it came to the sort of interrogation Bones was talking about, I wished there was a better way. There wasn't, of course. Not when it came to the undead, and if things had to get messy to stop a potential ghoul uprising . . . well, just call me Hannibal Lecter. With cl**vage.

Headlights flashed in the rearview mirror as another car entered the parking lot. Tiny and Band-Aid would keep an eye out here. That meant there would be no surprise ambush later when we were coming out of the club, which made me more relaxed.

Bones parked and I got out, brushing a few specks of lint off my charcoal-colored skirt. It was tighter than I preferred, plus low enough to expose my navel and several inches of my stomach with my midriff halter top, but the goal was to look more interested in fun than fighting.

The knee-high boots might be expected to contain a blade or two, but only a very careful person would notice the texture of my heels as something other than wood. Or the faint outlines on my back underneath my top as something more than a strapless bra.

Bones was also dressed as though entertainment were his only motivation. His long-sleeved top was made entirely of black mesh, his crystal skin exposed more than it was covered with the material. Leather pants hung low on his hips, tight enough to hint at his assets, but with enough give that they wouldn't hinder his movements. The all-black ensemble combined with his dark hair only made his pale skin even more striking by comparison, drawing the eye to the muscled flesh those hundreds of tiny holes revealed.

He caught my lingering gaze where the peep show of his skin ended and the front of his pants began - and flashed me a wicked grin.

"Hold that thought, luv. With luck, we'll be back in our hotel room breaking in the Jacuzzi before dawn."

If I'd have still been human, I might have blushed. Logic said I should be past the stage where it was obvious that I was mentally stripping and molesting my own husband. We weren't in the earliest bloom of our relationship anymore, after all. But when Bones approached, his dark eyes glittering with hints of green, gooseflesh still rippled across my skin as though this were a first date. Then everything in me tensed with expectation when he stood as close as possible without touching, only his breath hitting my skin as he spoke near my ear.

"Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?"

A wave of heat rolled over my subconscious, as if my nerve endings had just been brushed with the warmest of caresses. My hands slowly fisted while I resisted the urge to touch him, enjoying the building tension between us. Yes, this was different from the first giddy stage of attraction I'd felt for him, but that didn't diminish his effect on me. Instead, the desire I felt was richer, stronger, and far more intoxicating when combined with the hold Bones had over my heart.

His scent deepened, that blend of burnt sugar and musk tantalizing me with the evidence that he felt the same way I did. Last night, after leaving the compound, I'd been too emotionally bruised over Don's condition and my mother's new deadly aspirations to be in an amorous mood. Plus, we had to fill in Fabian, relocate from the cave, and take the ghost back to Dave in Tennessee before returning to Ohio again. That left little time to do more than grab a few hours'

sleep before heading out for tonight's activities.

Now, however, I wished we would have spent another hour or so back at our hotel room before leaving for this club. His comment about the Jacuzzi tub made some explicit images dance in my mind. Like how devastating Bones would look wearing nothing but suds - and then nothing but my body.

Another thought teased its way into my mind. Why wait? The backseat of our car is only a few feet away . . .

"You know, in addition to your mind-reading abilities, I may have absorbed some sluttiness from your blood," I said, giving my head a little shake. Had to be. I normally wouldn't think of getting it on in a parking lot when we had a reporter to snag inside and two undead friends just a few dozen feet away.

Soft laughter tickled my neck while the invisible caress of his aura intensified. "Be still my nonbeating heart."

The sinfulness in his tone said he'd be only too open to the idea of delaying our appearance inside the club - and blistering Tiny and Band-Aid's ears - should I suggest that backseat option. I took a step away, deciding it was in the best interest of my rapidly dwindling propriety not to touch him until we were safely inside the club.

Though possibilities lurked there, too . . .

"Let's, um, go find our reporter friend," I said, the words hitching as a breeze made his scent wash over me in a swell of lust-fragranced air. I couldn't resist a quick, longing glance at the car before I gave myself a mental slap. Mind out of the gutter, Trampzilla!People to see, bad ghouls to stop, remember?

Bones took in a long breath, making me wonder if the air was also tinged with my arousal. Probably. Scent was a more obvious indicator of desire for vampires than a man with a hard-on tenting his pants was for humans.

"Right," he said, the single word edged with a hint of roughness. Then he folded his aura in, the invisible energy around him decreasing until only the faint tingles of an average vampire remained. At the same time, my link to his emotions ceased, as abrupt as a cell phone dropping a call. Only very old vampires or Masters had the ability to camouflage their power levels, which made them even more dangerous. Bones might want us to eventually be recognized, but it seemed we were going in low-profile to start.

We walked up to the entrance of Bite. The line of humans waiting to get in was smaller than usual, but I chalked that up to it being Wednesday night instead of a weekend. We didn't wait at the back, our lack of pulses the same as being on the VIP list here. But once we were close enough for the tall, brawny female bouncer to notice us, she held out her hand.

"Stay right there. Verses is pissed at you two."

Bones gave the vampire his most charming smile. "Now, Trixie, he can't still be sore over that trifling incident."

Her mouth opened in disbelief, showing off her gold-plated incisors. "Trifling? You guys demolished the parking lot!"

"At least fetch him so he can tell us to sod off himself, if that's how he feels about it," Bones replied, still with that same effortless smile.

Trixie let out an exasperated noise, but she barked out a comment telling someone I couldn't see to get the owner. After a few moments, a large black ghoul appeared, a thoroughly unwelcoming expression on his face.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming back here - " Verses began.

"Come now, mate, that wasn't our fault and you know it," Bones interrupted, clapping him on the back. "Could've happened to anyone, but we're only here now to do a bit of drinking and dancing."

If possible, the ghoul's mocha features darkened even more. "Don't think because we've been friends for eighty years that I'm dumb enough to believe that. This place is meant to be a time-out for all our species. No violence on the premises, and the parking lot is still the premises!"

"I'm really sorry about what happened before, but we won't even bend a drink straw the wrong way this time," I chimed in, giving Verses my most winning smile.

"Indeed," Bones added, his own grin widening. "On my honor, mate."

"And on your credit card, if anything so much as gets dented," Verses shot back before letting out a grunt. "Fine. Come in, but don't make me regret it." At first glance, even people who couldn't feel the vibrations that the undead patrons gave off could guess that Bite wasn't a typical club. For one, the random bursts of lights across the ceiling were far more muted than in a normal club, plus the interior was darker than what legal guidelines would allow. The music also wasn't painfully loud to my ears, another concession to the heightened senses vampires and ghouls had.

But the most notable difference was that the bars weren't the only places where patrons could get drinks. In booths, on the dance floor, and even in corners, couples held each other in embraces that, upon closer look, were more predatory than passionate. The scent of blood flavored the air with a faint, coppery tang, probably tickling Bones's taste buds but doing nothing for mine because it was human blood, not vampire.

"How long do you want to wait before we split up?" I murmured to Bones once we were away from Verses. If Bite's owner did still happen to be watching us, we couldn't have him getting suspicious if we immediately separated after we'd stressed that we were here just for recreation.

"Let's start with a few drinks. Then perhaps you can go powder your nose and take the long way back. After that, I'll find someone to take a nip from, and I'll be quite picky about my choice," he replied in equally soft tones.

Sounded like a plan to me. After all, both of us would recognize the reporter on sight, if he was here. I let Bones lead me to the bar, glad that so far, only my thoughts rattled around in my mind. I hoped with the high percentage of patrons in this club being undead, if I did start picking up on any stray thoughts, I wouldn't feel overwhelmed like at the mall. Guess there were benefits to frequenting places filled with my own kind instead of having mostly humans around me.

My own kind. How strange that I felt that way now. I'd spent the first sixteen years of my life not knowing about my mixed heritage, then the next six years hating vampires until I met Bones. Now, at twenty-nine, I'd been a full vampire for less than a year, but I almost couldn't remember what it had been like to think of myself as human. I hadn't felt that way since my mother first told me why I was different from everyone else.

"Gin and tonic, plus a whiskey, neat," Bones told the bartender.

Oddly enough, that made me smile. Some things didn't change, after all.

Chapter Eight

I was on my way back from my third tripto the bathroom, thinking my nose couldn't be less shiny and being glad public toilets were no longer a necessary evil for me, when a shout jerked my head around.

"Let me go!"

Even above the music and the other noises, the words were distinct. I switched directions and headed toward the source of that cry, realizing it came from the booths in the far corner where I'd first met Bones. A cluster of vampires gathered in a circle, their backs to me. They had someone in the middle of them, and from the sounds of it, whoever it was wasn't happy.