Bloody Bones (9 page)

The men nearest the bar watched her out of the corners of their eyes, as if afraid to look directly at her. Larry stared at her open-mouthed.

“I'll watch the bar, but that's all,” she said. She turned those eyes to Larry and said, “What are you staring at?” Her voice was harsh, thick with scorn.

Larry blinked, closed his mouth, and stuttered. “N-noth-ing.”

She glared at him like she knew he was lying. I got an inkling why the men weren't staring at her.

“Dorcas, be nice to the customers.”

She glared at Magnus; he smiled, but he backed down. Magnus stepped out from behind the bar. He was wearing a soft blue dress shirt untucked over jeans so faded they were almost white. The shirt hit him at nearly mid-thigh; he'd had to roll the sleeves over his forearms. Black and silver cowboy boots completed the outfit. Everything but the boots looked borrowed. He should have looked sloppy, too casual among everyone else duded up for a Friday night, but he didn't. His utter confidence made the outfit seem perfect. A woman at one of the tables grabbed the hem of his shirt as he moved passed. He pulled it out of her hands with a playful smile.

Magnus led us to a table near the empty stage. He stood, letting me choose my seat; very gentlemanly of him. I sat with my back to the wall so I could see both doors and the room. It was sort of cowboyish, but magic rode the air. Illegal magic.

Larry sat to my right. He'd watched me and scooted his chair a little back from the table so he could see the room too. It was almost frightening how seriously Larry watched what I did. It would keep him alive, but it was like being
followed around by a three-year-old with a carry permit. Kind of intimidating.

Magnus smiled at us both, indulgently, like we were doing something cute or amusing. I wasn't in the mood to be amusing.

“Love charms are illegal,” I said.

“You said that already,” Magnus said. He flashed me a smile that I think was meant to be charming and harmless. It wasn't. There wasn't anything he could do to make himself less than exotic. He sure as hell wasn't harmless.

I stared at him until the smile wilted around the edges, and he swallowed. He spread his long-fingered hands on the tabletop, staring at them. When he looked up, the smile was gone. He looked solemn, a little nervous even. Good.

“It's not a charm,” he said.

“The hell it isn't,” I said.

“It isn't. A spell, but nothing as mundane as a charm.”

“You're splitting hairs,” I said.

Larry was staring at us intently. “Was that stuff at the bar a love charm?”

“What stuff at the bar?” Magnus's face was incredibly mild, as if he thought Larry would believe him.

Larry looked at me. “Is he kidding? The woman went from a three to a twenty-three. It had to be magic.”

Magnus turned his attention to Larry for the first time, excluding me—and I felt excluded. It was like a ray of sunshine had moved away from me, and I was just a little colder, a little more in the dark.

I shook my head. “Cut the glamor crap.”

Magnus turned back to me, and for a minute I felt that warmth. “Stop it.”

“What?”

I stood up. “Fine; let's see how funny you think you are in jail.”

Magnus encircled my wrist with his hand. His skin should have been work-roughened, but it wasn't. His skin was unnaturally soft, like living velvet. Of course, that could have been illusionary, too.

I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened. I kept
pulling, and he kept tightening with that certainty of someone who knew that I couldn't get away. He was wrong. It wasn't just a matter of strength, it was a matter of leverage.

I turned my wrist towards his fingers in a quick turning motion, jerking at the same time. His fingers slid over my skin trying to dig in, but it was over. My wrist felt rubbed raw where his finger had scraped along the skin. It wasn't bleeding, but it hurt anyway. It would have felt better if I rubbed it, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I was, after all, a tough-as-nails vampire slayer. Besides, it would have ruined some of the effect, and I liked the surprise on Magnus's face.

“Most women don't pull away once I've touched them.”

“You use magic on me one more time, and I'll feed you to the cops.”

He stared up at me, a thoughtful look on his face. He nodded. “You win. No more magic on you or your friend.”

“Or anyone else,” I said. I sat back down carefully, putting a little more distance between me and him. I angled the chair just a little to one side so the grab for my gun would be smoother. I didn't think I'd have to shoot him, but my wrist was aching where he'd squeezed. I had arm wrestled with vampires and shapeshifters. I knew preternatural strength when I felt it. He had it. He could have squeezed until my bones popped out of my skin, but he hadn't squeezed fast enough. He hadn't really wanted to hurt me. His mistake.

“Oh, my customers wouldn't like the magic going away,” he said.

“You can't manipulate them like this. It is illegal, and I will turn you in for it.”

“But everyone knows that Friday night is lovers' night at Bloody Bones,” Magnus said.

“What's lovers' night?” Larry asked.

Magnus smiled, already regaining some of his easy charm, but that flicker of warmth was gone. He was being true to his word, as far as I could tell. Even vampires couldn't work mind control on me without my knowing it. That Magnus could made me nervous.

“I make everyone beautiful or handsome, or sexy, tonight. For a few hours you can be the lover of your own dreams, and someone else's. Though I wouldn't spend the night. The glamor doesn't last that long.”

“What are you?” Larry asked.

“What looks like
Homo sapiens
, can breed with
Homo sapiens
, but isn't
Homo sapiens
?” I asked.

Larry's eyes widened. “
Homo arcanus
. He's a fairie?”

“Please keep your voice down,” Magnus said. He glanced around at the near tables. No one was paying much attention to us. They were too busy gazing into each other's magically enhanced eyes.

“You can't be passing for human,” I said.

“The Bouviers have told the future and made love charms for centuries around here.”

“You said it wasn't a love charm,” I said.

“They think it is, but you know what it is.”

“Glamor,” I said.

“What's glamor?” Larry asked.

“It's fairie magic. It's what allows them to cloud our minds, make things seem better or worse than they are.”

Magnus nodded, smiling, as if pleased that I knew so much. “Exactly; it's really a minor magic compared to some.”

I shook my head. “I've read about glamor, and it doesn't work this well unless you're high court,
Daoine Sidhe
. The seelie court of fairyland doesn't interbreed with mortals often. At least not commoners. The unseelie court, on the other hand, does.”

He stared at me with his beautiful eyes, looking, even without glamor, so gorgeous you wanted to touch him. Wanted to see if his hair was as luxuriant as it looked. He was like a really fine sculpture; you wanted to run your hands over it and feel the lines.

Magnus smiled gently. “The unseelie court is evil, cruel. What I do here is not evil. For one night these people can come here and be their own fantasies. They think it's love charms, and I let them. We all keep the secret of this small
illegal act. The local police know. They even come down once in a while and join in.”

“But it's not love charms.”

“No, it's natural talent on my part. Using my own home-grown magic isn't illegal if everyone knows I'm doing it.”

“So you pretend it's love charms, and everyone looks the other way because they're having a good time, but it's really fairie glamor, which isn't illegal with permission of the participants.”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Which makes it all legal.”

He nodded. “Now if I was descended from the dark side of fairie, would I do anything to bring pleasure to so many?”

“If it suited your needs, yeah.”

“Isn't there a ban on unseelie court moving to this country?” Larry asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Not if my family moved here before the ban went into effect. The Bouviers have been here for nearly three hundred years.”

“Not possible,” I said. “Nobody but the Indians have been here that long.”

“Llyn Bouvier was a French fur trapper. He was the first European to set foot on this land. He married into the local tribe, Christianized them.”

“Bully for him. So how come you didn't want to sell to Raymond Stirling?”

He blinked at me. “It would disappoint me greatly to find out you are working for him.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said.

“What are you?”

He hadn't asked who, he'd asked what. It was a very different question. It sort of stopped me for a second.

“I'm Anita Blake; this is Larry Kirkland. We're animators.”

“I take it you don't draw cartoons,” he said.

It made me smile. “No. We raise the dead; ‘animate' from the Latin, to give life.”

“Is that all you do?” He was staring at me very intently,
like there was something written on the inside of my skull and he was trying to read it.

It was an uncomfortable level of scrutiny, but I've been stared at by the best. I met his eyes and answered. “I'm a licensed vampire executioner.”

He shook his head gently. “I didn't ask what you did for a living. I asked what you were.”

I frowned. “Maybe I don't understand the question.”

“Perhaps you don't, but your friend asked what I was. You said I was a fairie. I ask you what you are, and you describe your job. It would be like me saying I'm a bartender.”

“I don't know how to answer you, then,” I said.

He was still staring at me. “Yes, you do. I can see a word in your eyes. One word.”

When he said it, a word did come to mind. “Necromancer. I'm a necromancer.”

Magnus nodded. “Does Mr. Stirling know what you are?”

“I doubt he'd understand even if I told him.”

“Do you really have the ability to control all types of undead?” Magnus asked.

“Can you really make a hundred shoes in a single night?” I asked.

Magnus smiled. “Wrong kind of fairie.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“If you're working for Stirling, why are you here? I hope you didn't come here to try to persuade me to sell. I'd hate to have to say no to such a lovely woman.”

“Can the compliments, Magnus. It won't get you anywhere.”

“What would get me somewhere?”

I sighed. “I've got too many men on my plate now.”

“That's the God's honest truth,” Larry muttered.

I frowned at him.

“I'm not asking you out on a date. I'm asking you into my bed.”

I frowned at Magnus. No, glared was a better word. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Sex between supernatural beings is always amazing, Anita.”

“I'm not a supernatural being.”

“Now who's splitting hairs?”

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I rarely get in trouble with silence.

Magnus smiled. “I've made you uncomfortable. I am sorry, but I'd never have forgiven myself if I hadn't asked. It's been a long time since I was with anyone who wasn't straight human. Let me buy you both drinks, to make up for my rudeness.”

I shook my head. “Menus would be fine. We haven't eaten yet.”

“The meals will be on the house.”

“No,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don't particularly like you, and I don't take favors from people I don't like.”

He sat back in his chair, a strange, almost startled expression on his face. “You are direct.”

“You have no idea,” Larry said.

I resisted the urge to kick Larry under the table and said, “Can we have some menus?”

He raised a hand and called, “Two menus, Dorrie.”

Dorrie brought them over. “I'm part owner of this place, not your waitress, Magnus. Hurry it up.”

“Don't forget that appointment I've got tonight, Dorrie.” His voice was mild. She wasn't fooled.

“You aren't leaving me alone with these people. I will not . . .” She glanced at us. “I don't approve of lovers' night. You know that.”

“I'll take care of everybody before I leave. You won't have to sully your morals.”

She glared at all of us in turn. “You're leaving with them?”

“No,” he said.

She turned on her heel and stalked back to the bar. The men who weren't paired off watched her swaying back, carefully, not staring until she couldn't see them.

“Your sister doesn't approve of abusing glamor?” I asked.

“Dorrie doesn't approve of a lot of things.”

“She has morals.”

“Implying I don't,” he said.

I shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

“She always this judgmental?” he asked Larry.

Larry nodded. “Usually.”

“Let's just order our food,” I said.

Larry smiled, but he looked down at the menu.

It was a laminated piece of paper printed on both sides. I ordered a cheeseburger, well done, house fries, and a large Coke. I hadn't had caffeine in several hours; I was running low.

Larry was frowning at the menu. “I don't think I could eat a hamburger right now.”

“They've got salads,” I said.

Magnus laid his fingertips against the back of Larry's hand. “Something swims up behind your eyes. Something . . . awful just behind your eyes.”

Larry stared at him. “I don't know what you mean.”

I grabbed Magnus's wrist and pulled him away from Larry. He turned his eyes to me, but there was more than just their color to make them hard to stare at. The pupil of his eyes had spiraled down like the eye of a bird. Human eyes just didn't do that.