Unbound

He took his knife and hacked the front of the arrow off, then ripped it out of his throat. Fiery pain throbbed for a moment until the wound healed. Bones kept moving, zigzagging, until he reached the side of a building and then shot straight up. Once on the roof, he tore his mask off; his gaze was sizzling emerald as he sought out his target.

Ralmiel was on the roof across the street, over the MAISON BOURBON sign. The Cajun didn’t smile or crack any jokes this time. He fitted another arrow in his crossbow and fired.

Bones whirled to the left, leaving the arrow to sail past him, then whirled again when another rapidly fired. And another.

Sod this, Bones thought. He folded one arm across his chest and then vaulted at Ralmiel, his other hand holding the curving knife. Ralmiel fired off two more arrows, but they landed in Bones’s arm, not his heart. Then Ralmiel jumped back, but too slow. One hard slash cleaved the crossbow in two. Another swipe split open Ralmiel’s chest. The blade was steel, not silver, since Bones had intended it for decapitating a ghoul instead of killing a vampire.

Still, the wound was deep. Ralmiel floundered, trying unsuccessfully to wrest away. Bones held on to him and raised the knife again. This one takes off your head, Bones thought grimly, swinging the blade. And that kills everything, doesn’t it?

But the knife swept through thin air instead. Bones snarled in frustration, his knees hitting the roof as the vampire under him disappeared. He spun around, just in case the blighter was about to reappear behind him with silver at the ready, but there was nothing.

Cold fury filled Bones. He hacked off the end of the arrow still piercing his back, then yanked that through as well, ignoring the starburst of pain it caused. Either Ralmiel would soon run out of magic pouches or Georgette had decided not to switch the ingredients in them. He’d deal with that later, though. First he had to try to find Delphine again, and God help Ralmiel if he interfered one more time.

Bones darted along the Quarter’s roofs for more than an hour, using the higher vantage point to better see the faces of the people below. No sign of Delphine. He cursed himself for not simply flying over the heads of the crowd to get to her before, but hiding the secret of his species was so ingrained in him that his first instinct had been to follow her on foot. It would have been sufficient, too, if not for Ralmiel. Bloody bastard.

But now Bones knew what she looked like. Becca’s part in this could finally be over. Bones would try scouring the Quarter again tomorrow, and hope like blazes Delphine hadn’t been scared out of the city.

Bones left the Quarter and went to his hotel at the outskirts of city, doubling back several times to make sure he wasn’t being followed. With all his backtracking, the sun was almost ready to rise by the time he made it inside his room. He stripped off his clothes and sat on the bed, eyeing his laptop. Better check now for any important messages. Sleep could wait a bit longer.

Bones logged onto his e-mail, quickly reading through his messages. “Bloody hell,” Bones swore when he got to the last one. What was the ghoul up to?

8

That afternoon, Bones opened the side door to his townhouse to let Jelani in. He went through the foyer, listening to the clicks from Jelani’s plastic and metal legs as he followed. Bones stopped in the townhouse’s inner courtyard. It was beautiful, with a large fountain in the middle surrounded by flowers planted specifically to bloom even in winter.

“Very nice,” Jelani complimented, looking around.

Bones was silent. Jelani waited for a few minutes, but then impatience got the better of him.

“You said you had some news?” the ghoul prompted.

Bones gave him a thin smile. “I do indeed. About you.”

Then Bones crossed the distance and grabbed Jelani, holding the bigger man several feet off the ground.

“This is your only chance to tell me the truth. Lie to me and I’ll kill you right here. Ever since I arrived, I’ve had Ralmiel after me, with no fear of Marie’s reprisal for it. Strange, that. Then your story didn’t check out. Did you think I’d just take your word and not do my own investigation? There’s no record of the LaLauries ever being at the St. Francisville house, so they couldn’t have murdered your wife there. What kind of game are you playing?”

Jelani didn’t bother to struggle. His false arms and legs left him as helpless against Bones as if he’d been human.

“I was the LaLauries’ slave,” he spat. “Both me and my wife were purchased from them shortly after they moved to the Quarter. The stories of what they did to their slaves aren’t even half the truth. My wife and I tried to run away. They caught us and tortured me. Cut off my arms and legs and ate them in front of me, but that wasn’t the worst of it.”

Jelani looked away. The scent of pure torment wafted off him, but Bones didn’t loosen his grip.