Affliction (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter) - Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,255

circle of protection and with a vampire at my back acting as my undead energy boost. I was going to try to replicate that, but this time I wasn’t going to fight the power, I was going to indulge it. I was purposefully going to raise as many zombies as I could. I was chumming for the Lover of the Death to come play with me. He thought that having some of the power of the Mother of All Darkness inside him made him a bad-ass necromancer; I was going to do everything I could to show him that I was better at it. I needed him to come close enough for me to raise a circle with him inside it, and then all I had to do was keep him trapped in the body he walked in with, and give the word to Hatfield to burn the one on her end. She still hadn’t found the body, but she had found the old mine that he’d been hiding in. Little Henry had been right that it was a maze. I prayed she’d find the body before he showed up on this end, because if not we were fucked. To kill him, the body he was in and the body he’d started in both had to burn.

We were in the modern open area of the cemetery. It gave the snipers the best chance. It left us open for the same thing, but long gun wasn’t Seamus’s strong suit, and the Lover of Death wouldn’t shoot us. If he killed us tonight it would be death by zombie, or rotting vampire, nothing as clean and neat as a bullet.

Nicky came to me and spoke low. ‘Why are you delaying?’

He was right. ‘I think I’m afraid.’

‘That you can’t do it?’

‘No, that I can.’

‘Why does that scare you?’ he asked.

I took a deep breath and was honest with the gibbering voice in the back of my head. ‘I’ve fought my necromancy for years to not do the very thing I’m about to do on purpose.’

‘Create your own army of the undead?’

I nodded.

‘What scares you about it the most?’

I looked up at him. ‘That I’ll enjoy it too much.’

‘It’s okay to enjoy what we’re good at, Anita.’

‘It’s not okay to enjoy certain things, it’s dangerous.’

‘You mean how you’re not supposed to enjoy killing people, or hurting them?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah, like that.’

‘Do you feel guilty about anyone you’ve killed?’

‘No, not really.’

‘Me either; now do this, Anita. Let your power out of its cage and see how far it runs.’

‘What if it runs too far to put back in its cage?’

‘If you’re the one controlling the zombie army, I know it will be a good zombie army, because you are my moral compass and you always point true north, Anita. Don’t let your doubts, or anyone else’s issues, make you think otherwise.’

‘Are you sure you’re a sociopath?’ I asked.

‘Pretty sure, yeah; why?’

‘Because somehow I didn’t think sociopaths were good at being comforting.’

‘We can be great at it, because we spend our lives play-acting, pretending so that we fit in and no one suspects that we have no idea why people are nice to each other.’

‘You understand that was completely not comforting, right?’

‘Yes, but I don’t have to pretend with you; you already know that I’m a sociopath, and you love me anyway.’

Edward came up to us. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but what’s the holdup?’

‘Me, worrying about things I shouldn’t be,’ I said.

‘Want some help clearing your head?’ he asked.

I shook my head. ‘I’m good, Nicky helped.’

Nicky looked at Edward. ‘She’s having one of those what-if-killing-feels-really-good, doesn’t-that-make-me-a-bad-person moments.’

Edward nodded as if that made perfect sense. ‘Then it feels good. We can’t really control what flips our switch; don’t judge it, Anita, and just accept it.’

I wanted to argue, but it would have been beyond stupid to argue with the two sociopaths in my life. ‘Why do I have moral quandary questions with the two of you?’

‘Because you don’t really have moral quandaries about violence, Anita, but you’re afraid of being judged for enjoying it, so you only bring it to the two people in your life who won’t judge you.’

I wanted to argue with Edward, but I couldn’t. ‘Well, fuck.’

‘Pretty much; now go raise zombies like the kickass necromancer we all know you are.’ He actually petted me on the head, which he knew I hated.

‘Don’t pet me,’ I said.

‘Sorry, but if you need to stroke off, I can help you; otherwise do your job so that the