Chapter Six
Don sat on the bed, an oxygen mask lying on the table next to him. From the faint lines around his face, he’d had it on before we came in. I would’ve told him to keep using it, but of course, that logic would only fall on deaf ears. I shut the door behind the six of us and then proceeded to outline the situation with the ghouls as we knew it.
“As I told Cat, we need a person on the inside,” Don stated once I was finished. “It’s important enough that I’m asking you, Dave, to take an extended leave from the team to infiltrate these zealots. Our country has enough problems as it is with human terrorists. We can’t afford to let undead ones grow in power. The results could be catastrophic.”
Dave ran a hand through his hair. “Fuckin’ right. I’ll do it.”
I knew that would be his answer. Dave had never backed down from a dangerous assignment. Not even after he’d been killed on one.
Satisfaction flitted across my subconscious for an instant before it was gone. I cast a glance at Bones just in time to catch his faint smile before it, too, disappeared. Then realization hit me.
He’d intended this all along. Bones knew what Don would do if we told him about the ghouls, and he also knew I’d have balked if he’d been the one to suggest that Dave be the undercover operative. Hell, I already didn’t like using Scratch and Ed as bait, and we’d just met them.
No wonder he’d been so keen on coming here when I broached the subject of dropping in on my uncle. I’d wanted to wait until tomorrow, but Bones said we should go at once. I’d just thought it was because he wanted to be back in Ohio quickly if Scratch and Ed happened to run into those ghouls tonight, but he’d had another plan altogether.
“You and I are having a talk later,” I told him in a low, measured voice.
A dark brow arched, but Bones didn’t pretend ignorance as to what the topic would be.
“Why are you the focal point of this ghoul’s rhetoric again, Cat?” Tate asked, his indigo gaze flicking between me and Bones. “I thought Apollyon’s paranoia with you ended when you became a full vampire.”
I shifted, uncomfortable. This was a subject I’d hoped to avoid, but if Dave was risking his life and my old team was handicapped by losing one of its members on an extended assignment, they deserved to know.
“Okay, so I have kind of an eating disorder . . .” I began before laying out the details of my unusual diet and its subsequent side effects.
Silence descended on the room. My uncle looked too shocked to even cough while the rest of the guys stared at me with varying degrees of astonishment.
“You eat vampires and absorb their powers?” Juan blurted. “Madre de Dios!”
“And I thought you won the freak award as a half-breed, Commander,” Cooper murmured. Then he shot a look at Bones. “Though I guess he keeps you well fed.”
Dave slowly shook his head. “You always had to do things different, Cat. Guess this shouldn’t be the exception.”
Tate still hadn’t spoken, but his gaze raked me. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who kept secrets,” he said at last.
“That’s not even the same,” I replied sharply.
“Of course not,” he said in a tone that screamed bullshit.
“We’ve been keeping what causes my abilities under wraps because we didn’t want to give Apollyon another tool to incite paranoia with,” I said in exasperation. “Under normal circumstances, I don’t think anyone would care that I feed from undead blood versus human, but clearly some ghouls aren’t thinking normally now. Why add fuel to that fire?”
Silence met this question, but it was more rhetorical than anything I expected an answer on.
“Now that we all know the plan, Bones and I are heading out,” I went on. “We need to get back in case our vampire spies call, not to mention I left my cat in a cave with only a ghost to watch over him.”
“We can’t leave yet,” Bones stated.
I gave him a cagey look. What else did he have up his sleeve? “Why?”
His mouth curled. “Because you’re still hungry, Kitten.”
Oh, right. In the midst of everything that had happened the past couple hours, I’d forgotten about that. I cleared my throat, awkwardness setting in. What was the proper etiquette for asking a friend if I could drink his blood?
“Um, Juan, would you be willing to—”
“Drink from me,” Tate cut me off. Emerald pinpointed in his gaze. “That’s what you were about to ask him, wasn’t it?”
“Not you,” I said even as Bones stiffened like a rattler poised to strike. “I told you before, I’m all out of patience with you.”
Something like a snort escaped him. “I’m not offering for personal reasons. After I watched you leave with the Prince of Darkness instead of me when you thought Bones cheated on you, I finally got it. You don’t want me and you never will. Not even if Bones was out of the picture.”
My eyes widened even as Bones muttered, “Thought you’d never bloody learn.” Cooper and Juan pretended to suddenly go deaf, but my uncle cast a thoughtful look at Tate.
“Then why do you want Cat to take your blood?” Don asked.
Tate squared his shoulders. “Because I’m the leader of this team, so if anyone’s blood is getting spilled, it’s mine.”
The strangest form of nostalgia washed over me. This was the Tate who’d cracked my cold standoffishness when I first joined the team several years ago. A strong individual who never hesitated putting himself on the front lines, either for his friends or for his unit. Not the pigheaded, caustic person who’d repeatedly tried to drive a wedge between me and Bones. The friendship I’d just vowed was dead between us gave a small gasp of life.
“I’m not biting you. A needle and a bag, that’s how we’ll do it,” I settled on saying.
Tate shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Don pressed a button. “Anne, can you bring in a syringe, catheter, and an empty bag?”
The nurse replied with an affirmative and had the items procured within two minutes flat. Tate stuck himself, waving Anne off, and soon the plastic bag began to fill with crimson liquid.
My stomach let out a rumble that I was sure every person in the room could hear, to my embarrassment.
“Gonna tell us why you’re not drinking from him?” Tate asked, jerking his head toward Bones.
“He’s too strong. I’m picking up more abilities than I can handle,” I replied, trying not to stare in a fixated way at the bag that was now half full.
“And someone like me is nice and weak.” Tate let out a snort.
Even though Tate deserved to be taken down several notches for all the shit he’d pulled the past couple years, I couldn’t bring myself to rub salt in the wound. “You’re not weak; you’re just a young vampire. If you were Bones’s age, I’m sure you’d be way too strong for me to drink from.”
Bones’s amusement flitted across my subconscious even as Tate muttered, “FYI, pity makes it worse, so next time, don’t try to cheer me up.”
I threw up my hands. Men. They were impossible to reason with.
“How were you intending for Dave to make contact while he’s undercover?” Bones asked Don, changing the subject.
My uncle frowned. “The usual way. Calling in whenever he can safely manage.”
“Too risky, that,” Bones stated. “His mobile could be monitored, texts and e-mails copied . . . you need a communications method the ghouls won’t suspect whilst he’s still gaining their trust.”
“And what method is that?” Don asked, skepticism heavy in his voice.
Bones’s smile was sly. “Ghostly courier.”
“Of course!” I exclaimed, all of a sudden feeling better about Dave’s chances. “The other ghouls, if they notice Fabian at all, will just ignore him. Plus, Ohio’s full of ley lines, so he can travel fast if there’s trouble and Dave needs to be extracted.”
Don look intrigued. “Will the ghost be agreeable to this?”
“We’ll ask, but I bet he says yes.” My spirits lifted the more I considered this. “Fabian told me that above everything else, he misses feeling useful. Being noncorporeal limits a lot of things he can participate in, you know?”
Fabian had also missed companionship, which is how he’d ended up with me and Bones. Loneliness wasn’t limited to the living, after all.
“Why can’t we just have Fabian spy on the ghouls and report back, instead of sending Dave in as a plant with Fabian as the relay?” Cooper asked.
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.”