“Did you discover anything?”
“Yes.” He glanced at Alston. “The thing that attacked you is a Maniae.”
“And that is?”
“The Maniae are the spirits of madness and death.They are related to the Erinyes, the deities of vengeance.”
Holy cow, I thought, blinking. We weren’t just dealing with ordinary, everyday bad guys here, but old Greek gods!
Could the day get any fucking worse?
Chapter Three
“Y ES, IT COULD ,” A ZRIEL MURMURED, AMUSEMENT crinkling the corners of his eyes, “because they cannot be killed.”
“Oh, fabulous.” I raked a hand through my hair. Hunter was
not
going to be pleased.
“Could someone please explain what the hell a Maniae is?” Alston said irritably.
He glanced at her, expression noncommittal. “As I said, the Maniae are spirits—daemones—of madness or death. They, like the Erinyes, can be summoned by those seeking vengeance for crimes against the natural order.”
She glanced at me. “Does death always speak in riddles?”
“For as long as I’ve known him,” I said, and felt amusement swirl through him.
“Crimes against the natural order can mean anything from murder to unfilial conduct,” he said. “And usually the only way to stop the attack is by uncovering the perpetrator of the curse and having them either perform a rite of forgiveness and purification, or complete of some task assigned for atonement.”
Her snort was less than regal, and really said all that needed to be said. “Unfilial conduct? I am an oldvampire and my maker is long dead. I hardly think it would matter to anyone else if I was an undutiful daughter.”
“That would depend on whether the term is used strictly or loosely,” Azriel commented. “Maybe it is simply a matter of engaging in conduct unbecoming a vampire.”
“All vampires engage in conduct unbecoming,” she snapped. “It is the nature of the beast.”
I’m glad
she
said that, because if I’d pointed it out, she’d have gotten pissed. “Conduct unbecoming wasn’t the only point mentioned, Catherine.”
Her gaze flicked to me, her eyes steely black. And I’d been wrong before: Alston could do scary every bit as well as Hunter if she wanted to. “I have not murdered anyone in a very long time, young woman. Although right now I will admit the itch is rising.”
“Murdering me isn’t going to help catch your attacker,” I replied calmly enough—though she no doubt noted my accelerated heart rate.
“No,” she agreed. “Although Hunter would not be pleased, and that in itself would almost be worth the cost. Perhaps it is just as well you have your dark guard here.”
And why Azriel would be by my side the next time I had to visit her. I was beginning to trust this woman even less than Hunter.
“I would suggest that you avoid sleeping for the next couple of days, as that seems to be when the attacks occur.”
“And why do you think I am here rather than lying wrapped in Bryson’s warmth?”
“You don’t need to sleep to enjoy Bryson’s warmth,”I couldn’t help pointing out. “Nor do you need a bed.”
“I am not a young woman,” she remarked haughtily. “And I tend to be old-fashioned when it comes to sex. You, obviously, are not.”
I certainly wasn’t—and thank the gods for that. The real spice of life—and sex—was variety. I restrained the urge to smile and said, “Please call me when you have the list compiled.”
“Ignatius will call you. Better yet, I shall have him deliver it.” Her gaze flicked to Azriel. “The less I see of
him,
the better I shall feel. Good-bye, young woman.”
Summarily dismissed, I turned and walked out. Ignatius was back at the glass door, waiting for us. It was almost as if they couldn’t wait to get rid of us. Even the elevator was waiting.
Once the doors had closed and the elevator was on the way back down, I said, “Did you find anything in the bedroom?”
“A reaper.”
My head snapped around.
“What?”
The corners of his
“Yes.” He glanced at Alston. “The thing that attacked you is a Maniae.”
“And that is?”
“The Maniae are the spirits of madness and death.They are related to the Erinyes, the deities of vengeance.”
Holy cow, I thought, blinking. We weren’t just dealing with ordinary, everyday bad guys here, but old Greek gods!
Could the day get any fucking worse?
Chapter Three
“Y ES, IT COULD ,” A ZRIEL MURMURED, AMUSEMENT crinkling the corners of his eyes, “because they cannot be killed.”
“Oh, fabulous.” I raked a hand through my hair. Hunter was
not
going to be pleased.
“Could someone please explain what the hell a Maniae is?” Alston said irritably.
He glanced at her, expression noncommittal. “As I said, the Maniae are spirits—daemones—of madness or death. They, like the Erinyes, can be summoned by those seeking vengeance for crimes against the natural order.”
She glanced at me. “Does death always speak in riddles?”
“For as long as I’ve known him,” I said, and felt amusement swirl through him.
“Crimes against the natural order can mean anything from murder to unfilial conduct,” he said. “And usually the only way to stop the attack is by uncovering the perpetrator of the curse and having them either perform a rite of forgiveness and purification, or complete of some task assigned for atonement.”
Her snort was less than regal, and really said all that needed to be said. “Unfilial conduct? I am an oldvampire and my maker is long dead. I hardly think it would matter to anyone else if I was an undutiful daughter.”
“That would depend on whether the term is used strictly or loosely,” Azriel commented. “Maybe it is simply a matter of engaging in conduct unbecoming a vampire.”
“All vampires engage in conduct unbecoming,” she snapped. “It is the nature of the beast.”
I’m glad
she
said that, because if I’d pointed it out, she’d have gotten pissed. “Conduct unbecoming wasn’t the only point mentioned, Catherine.”
Her gaze flicked to me, her eyes steely black. And I’d been wrong before: Alston could do scary every bit as well as Hunter if she wanted to. “I have not murdered anyone in a very long time, young woman. Although right now I will admit the itch is rising.”
“Murdering me isn’t going to help catch your attacker,” I replied calmly enough—though she no doubt noted my accelerated heart rate.
“No,” she agreed. “Although Hunter would not be pleased, and that in itself would almost be worth the cost. Perhaps it is just as well you have your dark guard here.”
And why Azriel would be by my side the next time I had to visit her. I was beginning to trust this woman even less than Hunter.
“I would suggest that you avoid sleeping for the next couple of days, as that seems to be when the attacks occur.”
“And why do you think I am here rather than lying wrapped in Bryson’s warmth?”
“You don’t need to sleep to enjoy Bryson’s warmth,”I couldn’t help pointing out. “Nor do you need a bed.”
“I am not a young woman,” she remarked haughtily. “And I tend to be old-fashioned when it comes to sex. You, obviously, are not.”
I certainly wasn’t—and thank the gods for that. The real spice of life—and sex—was variety. I restrained the urge to smile and said, “Please call me when you have the list compiled.”
“Ignatius will call you. Better yet, I shall have him deliver it.” Her gaze flicked to Azriel. “The less I see of
him,
the better I shall feel. Good-bye, young woman.”
Summarily dismissed, I turned and walked out. Ignatius was back at the glass door, waiting for us. It was almost as if they couldn’t wait to get rid of us. Even the elevator was waiting.
Once the doors had closed and the elevator was on the way back down, I said, “Did you find anything in the bedroom?”
“A reaper.”
My head snapped around.
“What?”
The corners of his
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