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"Forever asleep," I said, heading for the parking garage.
With Anna-Linda a few paces behind her, Iris swung in step with me. "Tell me something."
"What is it?"
We stopped at the light, waiting for the signal to cross. When we were on the other side of the street, the parking garage in sight, Iris softly said, "Camille once mentioned something about being worried about you drinking demon's blood. That it might change you or hurt you. What about the blood of murderers, rapists, wife beaters? Does it taste different—or have any bad effects—on you?"
I frowned. Now that she mentioned it, I could see how they might think that way. "The demons' blood I'm still concerned about. They're a breed apart and things are very different with their genetics. I have no idea what drinking from them has done to me. But with humans? Blood is blood. If they're diseased in body, it won't affect me. Viruses can't live in me. And as far as anything else… well, the taint is in the soul, not the blood. Blood is pure. It sings, but not with their sins."
Iris nodded and we entered the garage. As we bundled Anna-Linda in the back of my sleek, black XJ Jag, the girl immediately leaned her head against the side window. Within less than a minute, she'd fallen asleep.
I slid into the driver's seat.
Iris gave me a sideways glance. "Thanks."
"For what?" I started the ignition and eased out onto the road, heading north to our house on the northwest corner of the Belles-Faire district. We had about twenty minutes till we got there.
"For being you. For caring. For doing something." She grinned then and threw back her head, laughing.
"Well, thank you," I said, feeling suddenly lighthearted. Sometimes Iris understood me better than my sisters did. "You're pretty handy in a pinch, too, you know that?"
"Indeed I do." She snickered, and we changed the subject as I popped in a CD of Hoist's The Planets.
As we neared the turnoff leading to the road that led to our house, I wondered what Delilah and Camille would have to say about Anna-Linda. And what would Anna-Linda say about them? It was going to be interesting to find out.
CHAPTER 3
By the time we arrived home it was almost two-thirty, but the house was blazing with light. Our home, a three-story Victorian, had a full basement where I lived. The house was a wondrous old white elephant, as Mother used to say. Our mother had taught us a lot about customs and expressions Earthside, and we'd taken every scrap of information to heart. Unlike my sisters, who were content to live at home in Otherworld, I'd always secretly longed to visit Earthside, with all its exotic technology and customs. Now that I'd been here about a year, I wasn't sure what I thought.
Our acreage was bordered on three sides by a thick copse of woodland. One side led into the wild wood, with a trail meandering down to Birchwater Pond. The other two ended at boundary lines midforest dividing our land from the land of other homeowners. Everybody in this area had at least three to five acres, most of which had wisely been left undeveloped.
The house itself was old enough to be affordable, yet still new enough not to need major repairs. Delilah's suite of rooms was on the third floor, Camille took the second, we shared the main story, and I, of course, had the basement. Iris lived with us and had a cozy nook off the kitchen where she comfortably made her home.
Maggie usually slept in Iris's room, although if everybody was off gallivanting around, Iris would sneak her down to my lair where the gargoyle would curl up in a special bed we'd prepared for her, safe and sound and protected from the world. Though I usually woke with a snarl, I never turned on Maggie. The very aspects that led others to fear me worked in reverse when it came to her. I'd taken her under my protection.
Iris and I hopped out of the car. Iris woke Anna-Linda and bundled her toward the porch behind me. Before I could unlock the door, Camille opened it and hustled us in.
"Chase wants to talk to you. Chrysandra said you were on your way home so we've been keeping a watch—" She stopped suddenly. "Who's that?"
"A guest," I said. "Is Chase here?"
"He's in the living room," she said, trying to peek behind me.
"I'll tell you about the girl in a bit," I murmured.
As we entered the living room, I saw that Delilah was watching Jerry Springer as usual—this time Jerry was ambushing unwary women with their grooms-to-be who were about to reveal that they'd been sleeping with their future mothers-in-law. Delightful. I had no idea what Delilah got out of this crap, but she liked it and so I humored her. I halfway suspected she had a case of the hots for Springer himself, but that thought was so unappetizing that I tried to avoid it as much as possible.>Robert trembled as I showed him the bullets before squeezing them into crumpled bits of slag. I tossed them down the sewer grate next to where he was sitting. The gun followed as I bent the bars on the grating just enough to slip it through, then bent them back.
I leaned over him. "You shouldn't play with toys that go boom," I said, trailing one finger down his cheek, my nail scratching the skin ever so slightly. "You might hurt somebody. You might even kill someone."
The terror in his eyes mirrored the scent of fear on his skin and I let out a little gasp as a wave of desire raced through me.
"Tell me, Robert, what were you going to do to the girl? Just what kind of party did you have planned for her?" As I felt the pounding tattoo of his heart, my hunger began to grow, deep and coiling out from the dark swirl of bloodlust that had been part of my nature since Dredge forced my mouth to his wrist as I was breathing my last.
I yanked Robert to his feet and slammed him against the wall. "And don't even think of lying to me. I'll know if you do. Let one false word slip through those lips and it's good night, my friend." I was stretching the truth there a bit—I wasn't really a magical lie detector—but he wouldn't know that. He was so nervous already that he was ready to piss his pants. His pheromones were hopping like jumping beans.
He cleared his throat. "All right, all right! You know what we were going to do—"
"No. I want you to say it. I want you to admit it."
