The big man’s shoulders slumped. “You can’t know what it’s like, living among our kind crippled this way. Majestic has made it bearable, but once the LaLauries are dead, I want to die, too. My only hope is that Majestic is kind enough to make death my punishment for my betrayal, instead of casting me off without her protection.”

Bones’s gaze traveled once more over the stumps that made up Jelani’s arms and legs. Jelani couldn’t wield a knife in defense of his life or in defense of Marie’s, which was the expectation of any member in an undead line. He couldn’t even walk, if someone were to sweep those prosthetics out from under him—and that would be the first thing any hostile vampire or ghoul would do.

Looking at it coldly, all Jelani had to offer Majestic in return for her protection was his loyalty, and he’d just burned that by going behind her back over the LaLauries. Even if Marie sympathized with why he did it, she’d still have no choice except to kill him for it. Not if she didn’t want to be regarded as a weak leader.

And if Bones was being practical, now that he knew none of this had been sanctioned by Marie, he’d leave the city to-night. Then once Jelani’s deeds were revealed, Bones could truthfully claim ignorance of the man’s betrayal.

But if he didn’t, any further actions he took would be held up to judgment by the queen of the city. Bones was a trespasser, hunting on Marie’s grounds without her permission. He knew she wouldn’t look kindly on that. Furthermore, while he was here, he was providing a damn fine target of himself to Ralmiel, since he couldn’t very well hide and hunt at the same time in the same small area.

Though neither could the LaLauries. Not for much longer, as it were.

There was only one choice, wasn’t there?

Bones stared at Jelani, not letting any emotion show on his face. “I don’t believe I’ll see you again, mate, but I’ll promise you this—you’ll have your vengeance.”

Jelani gave him a tight smile. “It won’t just be my vengeance. It will be shared by my wife, and everyone else who died at their hands.”

Bones walked away, not replying to that. Death he could give, yes. But at the moment, he wished he could give hope, too, even though there was none for Jelani, and perhaps none for himself, either.

Bones walked up the street to Becca’s salon. He’d tried her cell earlier, but she didn’t answer. She was probably annoyed with him for what she’d think was his disappearing last night. Or she was busy with customers and hadn’t been able to get to her phone. Either way, he thought a gesture was in order, so he’d picked up a dozen roses on his way.

And just in case Ralmiel was on a roof sighting down a crossbow on him, Bones was wearing a Kevlar vest underneath his shirt and coat. Let Ralmiel try to shoot an arrow through that. The next time that scurvy bugger pulled a Houdini and popped up, Bones intended to separate his head from his shoulders. If he could kill Delphine and Louis at the same time, he’d consider it a capital evening.

Bones was a few shops down from the salon when he smelled it. He inhaled just to make sure, then quickened his pace, running the short distance to the salon and flinging open the door.

The girl behind the counter looked up in surprise. Bones ignored her, stalking through the salon and yanking open every closed door, much to the consternation of a customer getting a massage in the back room.

“Becca’s not here,” the girl called out.

Bones stalked over, letting the roses drop to the floor as he grabbed her.

“When did she leave? Was she alone?”

“Hey, not so rough,” she protested.

Bones let her go and asked very precisely, “Where is Becca?”

“She called in sick. Or she had her new roommate come in earlier to say that Becca wasn’t working today, but when you showed up, to tell you to come over for dinner. So I guess Becca can’t be that sick.”

Even though he already knew, he had to confirm it. “This girl, what did she look like?”

Shrug. “Black curly hair, thin, about my age. Had an accent, I think it was French…”

Bones walked to the door. The girl continued to call after him.

“Tell Becca she’s in trouble with our manager. It’s Mardi Gras, we can’t afford for her to just decide to take a day off.”

Delphine hadn’t just run off last night. No, she’d doubled back and found Becca first.

Once outside, Bones inhaled again, deeply. Even with the scent of countless people trampling through the air, he could still smell Delphine. It was if she’d deliberately rubbed against the side of the shop to make sure he smelled her. Bones walked across the street to stare up at the LaLauries’ old mansion. Then he went to the gate and took in another long breath.

She’d been here, too. Again, the trail was so strong, it had to be deliberate. Delphine’s scent hadn’t been on it before, the many other times Bones had walked past this house. And now he could hear a heartbeat inside the normally empty mansion.

Becca. Come over for dinner, Delphine had said, and she was making sure Bones knew where dinner would be held.

A bitter smile twisted his mouth. No, Delphine. I’m not making it that easy for you. Ghouls are stronger during the day, while vampires are weaker. I’ll wait till after nightfall to accept your invitation. It’s not as if you have any intention of letting Becca go free once I arrive anyway, you murdering bitch.

Bones turned on heel and walked away, wondering if Delphine or Louis was watching him.

It was past nine when Bones came back. His coat was lined with several knives, both steel and silver. No telling whether Delphine and Louis might have vampiric help with them, so best to have all bases covered. He was still wearing the Kevlar vest underneath his shirt, even though it would slightly hinder his movements. Still, its benefit outweighed its liability.

Bones stared at the LaLauries’ old house. Even with all the noise around him from partiers enjoying the last few days of Mardi Gras, if he concentrated, Bones could still faintly make out the heartbeat inside the house. True, that heartbeat might not be Becca’s, but she might yet be alive.

Now for the last addition to his ensemble.

Bones turned and walked into the reveling crowd, pulling out the first few people his hands laid on, dragging them from the thick of the merrymakers and hitting them with his gaze. The alcohol they’d consumed helped with that, since none of them could claim exceptional mental willpower at the moment. Bones didn’t care if anyone looking on bothered to wonder why his eyes were glowing green. Let them think it was a special effect from the Phantom of the Opera mask he had on, if they bothered to ponder it at all.

After giving the three bespelled people their instructions, Bones went back into the crowd and pulled out another three, repeating the process. And then another three, then another, until he had more than a dozen obedient bystanders. Finally, Bones walked back down the street to stand on the corner in front of the house.

The shadows around it were darker now, throbbing with the memory of suppressed rage from centuries ago. It was almost as if those shadows knew their former tormenters had returned. Bones took off his mask, then rolled his head around on his shoulders.

“Now,” he told the waiting men and women at his back, and vaulted up into the air.

Below him, they began walking to the front of the house and hurling things at it. Beer bottles, their shoes, their masks; whatever they could get into their hands, they flung it. Windows broke on the first and second floors, the sound drowned out by the yells and hollers from the people. They didn’t go within a dozen feet of the house, though. No, they stayed just far enough away so that anyone who wanted to stop them would have to come out and get them.