seats. Jackie, Vincent, Tiny, and Marguerite settled near the back of the room where they could see everyone. Sharon and Lily settled nearby and Neil and the others made their way to the front of the room, where the family was situated.
The rest of the funeral was uneventful, but Vincent stayed at her side throughout. He also spent most of his time glaring at the back of Cassius's head. He'd said he was going to fire Cassius, but Jackie suspected the man should be grateful if that's all Vincent did. She considered telling Vincent firing him wasn't necessary, but didn't bother. Cassius had brought it on himself, let him reap what he'd sewn so long ago. Perhaps he needed the reminder that every action had a consequence, and that someone weak today may be the strong one later. Even mortals, with their short lives, forgot that lesson.
The service was very similar to human funeral services, but the burial was different. Inside the well-lit funeral home, it had been easy to forget that it was night outside, but at the cemetery this was not possible. Here, night encroached all around them as everyone made their silent way to the graveside. Jackie was slightly surprised that they didn't bother with some form of lighting to illuminate the path to the graveside, but most of the funeral attendees didn't seem to need it. Jackie was reminded that immortals were night hunters by nature and that their silvery eyes were more than just pretty; they were to allow them to see in the dark. There were few people at the funeral who had trouble navigating the path; she had a little trouble, though not much. It appeared her night vision had already improved. Tiny, on the other hand, had a lot of difficulty negotiating the path.
Jackie knew she wasn't seeing as well as the rest of the immortals around her. Marguerite had already explained that her new skills and abilities were still in their infancy, and would increase with the passing of time. Night vision was obviously one of the abilities that would continue to improve, but it was still a little frustrating. She spent her time at the graveside examining the others in attendance, searching expressions for some telltale sign of satisfaction, and wishing that her eyesight was already one hundred percent to do so.
Neil had arranged for a wake at his home to follow the funeral and Jackie wondered if all funerals for immortals were so similar to human burials. Or if it was because Stephano was mortal and had been raised with this culture, but it was Tiny who actually asked the question as they drove to Neil's home.
"Are all immortal funerals like this, or is this because Stephano is mortal?" His voice was a low rumble coming from the darkness of the back seat.
There was a brief silence, then Vincent cleared his throat and said, "I don't know. I've never attended a funeral for an immortal."
Jackie blinked at him in surprise. "Never?"
Vincent nodded, his attention on traffic as he drove.
"But surely you've known others who have died?" she asked with amazement. "What about your mother?"
"She was burned at the stake," he reminded her quietly. "There was nothing left to bury. My father searched the ashes, but there was nothing."
Jackie stared at him blankly, finding it impossible to believe that in medieval times they'd managed a fire so hot it had destroyed even the bones. Surely there should have been something left?
"What about Jean Claude?" Tiny asked and Jackie glanced into the backseat as she waited for Marguerite's answer.
"Another fire," Marguerite pointed out. "There was nothing left of Jean Claude to bury either."
"But that's桰 mean, it's rare for a fire to burn so hot it could incinerate the bones. Even in cremation there are bits left... I think," Jackie added, because she wasn't at all certain this was true.
"Bastien thinks that the nanos somehow feed the fire, making it burn hotter. We are apparently quite flammable," Marguerite said quietly.
"Then how do you know Jean Claude is truly dead?" Tiny asked and Jackie stiffened in surprise. That thought hadn't occurred to her.
"His ring was in the ashes of the fire," Vincent answered.
"And I felt him die," Marguerite said quietly. When Jackie's eyes cut sharply to her, she said simply, "He was my sire. He shared his nanos with me. We were connected. I sensed his death, felt it, and knew it was by fire."
Jackie turned slowly in her seat and glanced at