I pulled away from him, turned my back on him. It made perfect sense. Jean-Claude gave off sex like other people wore cologne. It explained why his first business was a stripper club -- lots of sexual energy to feed off. Did it change anything? I wasn't sure. I just wasn't sure.
I stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass. The curtains blew gently in the night breeze. "Does Richard know that Jean-Claude is some kind of incubus?"
"I don't think so," Damian said.
Power breathed on the wind. I could almost smell it like ozone in the air. It raised the hair at the back of my neck. It wasn't vampire or shapeshifter. I recognized it for what it was: necromancy. Somewhere close by, someone was using a power very similar to mine.
I turned to Damian. "Colin's human servant, is she a necromancer?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
"Shit." I cast outward, searching for Asher. My power touched him and was thrown backwards, out, away. I ran for the door.
Damian followed me, asking, "What is it? What's wrong?"
I had the Browning na**d in my hand when I hit the yard. Damian saw them before I did, and he pointed at them. Colin's human servant stood at the edge of the trees, almost lost in shadows and darkness. Asher stood a few yards in front of her. He was on his knees.
I fired at her as I ran. The shots went wild, but it broke some of her concentration and I could feel Asher again. His life was being pulled out of him like a fish on a string. I could feel his blood thundering against his skin. His heart leaped in his chest like a caged thing struggling to get out, and it was her his heart was trying to get to, as if she could pull his heart from his chest from a distance.
I forced myself to stop running. I stood there and sighted down my arm. I felt movement from above. I looked up in time to see Barnaby's pale face coming at me like some giant bird of prey, then Damian was off the ground and the two vampires rolled into the sky, struggling.
I was close enough to see Asher's face now. He was bleeding from every opening; eyes, mouth, nose. He was a mask of blood; his clothes were soaked in it. He fell forward onto all fours.
I shot the woman. I shot her in the chest twice. She fell slowly to her knees, looking at me. She looked surprised. I heard her say, "We're not allowed to kill each other's human servants."
"If Colin hadn't known I'd kill you, he'd have come himself."
That made her smile for some reason. She said, "I hope he dies with me." Then she collapsed facedown on the ground. Even by moonlight I could see the exit holes in her back like great gaping mouths.
Asher stayed on all fours, blood dripping from his mouth. I knelt by him, touched his shoulder, and the shirt was blood-soaked. "Asher, Asher, can you hear me?"
"I thought it was you," he said, in a voice thick with things that should never be in a living throat. "I thought it was you calling me." He coughed blood onto the ground.
I looked up into the sky, and there was no sight of Damian and Barnaby. I screamed for help, and no one answered.
I put my arms around Asher, and he collapsed into my lap. I cradled as much of him into my lap as I could get. I had to lean over him to hear his voice.
"I thought you had called me out into the night for a rendezvous. Isn't that ironic?" He coughed so hard that it was hard to hold him. Thicker things than blood spilled from his mouth. I held him while he bled his life away on the ground and screamed, "Damian!"
I heard a distant scream, but that was all. "Don't die, Asher, please, don't die."
He coughed until something dark and black came out his mouth. Blood poured out of his mouth in a near steady stream. I touched his skin, and it was cool to the touch.
"If you fed off of one of the lycanthropes, would it be enough to save you?"
"If it's soon, perhaps." His voice was soft and thick.
I touched his forehead and came away with chill sweat. "How badly are you hurt?"
He ignored me, speaking very softly, "Know this, Anita, that seeing myself through your eyes has healed my heart."
My throat was tight with tears. "Please, Asher, don't."
A drop of pure blood slid out of his eye. "Be happy with your two beaus. Don't make the same mistakes that Jean-Claude and I made all those long years ago." He touched my face with a hand that was slick with blood. "Be happy in their arms, ma cherie."
His eyes fluttered. If he passed out, we might lose him. There was nothing in the night but the sounds of cicada and the wind. Where the hell was everyone?
"Asher, don't pass out."