Guilty Pleasures - By Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,104
stand beside me. "I don't like it, Anita."
I wasn't too thrilled either, but. . . "We'll give it another fifteen minutes. If he's not here by then, we'll leave."
Edward glanced around the open ground. "Not much cover around here."
"I don't think we have to worry about snipers."
"You said someone shot at you, right?"
I nodded. He had a point. Goosebumps marched up my arms. The wind blew a hole in the clouds and moonlight streamed down. Off in the distance a small building gleamed silver-grey in the light.
"What's that?" Edward asked.
"The maintenance shed," I said. "You think the grass cuts itself?"
"Never thought about it," he said.
The clouds rolled in again and plunged the cemetery into blackness. Everything became soft shapes; the white marble seemed to glow with its own light.
There was the sound of scrabbling claws on metal. I whirled. A ghoul sat on top of my car. It was naked and looked as if a human being had been stripped and dipped into silver-grey paint, almost metallic. But the teeth and claws on its hands and feet were long and black, curved talons. The eyes glowed crimson.
Edward moved up beside me, gun in his hand.
I had my gun out, too. Practice, practice, and you don't have to think about it.
"What's it doing up there?" he asked.
"Don't know." I waved my free hand at it and said, "Scat!"
It crouched, staring at me. Ghouls are cowards; they don't attack healthy human beings. I took two steps, waving my gun at it. "Go away, shoo!" Any show of force sends them scuttling away. This one just sat there. I backed away.
"Edward," I said, softly.
"Yes."
'I didn't sense any ghouls in this cemetery."
"So? You missed one."
"There's no such thing as just one ghoul. They travel in packs. And you don't miss them. They leave a sort of psychic stench behind. Evil."
"Anita." His voice was soft, normal, but not normal. I glanced where he was looking and saw two more ghouls creeping up behind us.
We stood almost back to back, guns pointing out. "I saw a ghoul attack earlier this week. Healthy man killed, a cemetery where there were no ghouls."
"Sounds familiar," he said.
"Yeah. Bullets won't kill them."
"I know. What are they waiting for?" he asked.
"Courage, I think."
"They're waiting for me," a voice said. Zachary stepped around the trunk of the tree. He was smiling.
I think my mouth dropped to the ground. Maybe that was what he was smiling at. I knew then. He wasn't killing human beings to feed his gris-gris. He was killing vampires. Theresa had tormented him, so she had been the next victim. There were still some questions though, big ones.
Edward glanced at me, then back at Zachary. "Who is this?" he asked.
"The vampire murderer, I presume," I said.
Zachary gave a little bow. A ghoul leaned against his leg, and he stroked its nearly bald head. "When did you guess?"
"Just now. I'm a little slow this year."
He frowned then. "I thought you'd figure it out eventually."
"That's why you destroyed the zombie witness's mind. To save yourself."
"It was fortunate that Nikolaos left me in charge of questioning the man." He smiled when he said it.
"I'll bet," I said. "How did you get the two-biter to shoot me at the church?"
"That was easy. I told him the orders came from Nikolaos."
Of course. "How are you getting the ghouls out of their cemetery? How come they obey your orders?"
"You know the theory that if you bury an animator in a cemetery, you get ghouls."
"Yeah."
"When I came out of the grave, they came with me, and they were mine. Mine."
I glanced at the creatures and found that there were more of them. At least twenty, a big pack. "So you're saying that's where ghouls come from." I shook my head. "There aren't enough animators in the world to account for all the ghouls."
"I've been thinking about that," he said. "I think that the more zombies you raise in a cemetery, the greater your chances for ghouls."
"You mean like a cumulative effect?"
"Exactly. I've been wanting to talk this over with another animator, but you see the problem."
"Yes," I said, "I do. Can't talk shop without admitting what you are and what you've done."
Edward fired without warning. The bullet took Zachary in the chest and twisted him around. He lay face down, the ghouls frozen; then Zachary raised himself up on his elbows. He stood with a little help from an anxious ghoul. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but bullets will never hurt me."