Ravenous tdf-1 Page 18

  Holly dropped her backpack with a thud. A spiral-bound course manual marked, Computer Concepts: From E-mail to E-business Platforms, lay neatly on the desk. She wiggled the mouse to kill the screen saver and brought up the start screen.

  At the front of the room a man was standing next to the digital projector. He looked about the same age as the students, but was apparently the instructor. For a moment Holly felt ancient. He smiled diffidently at the class and nodded to Alessandro. With wavy brown hair and a narrow, sensitive face, he was cute in a youngish way. When he filled out in a few years he would have hunk potential. She felt ancient for another moment.

  "Hello, and thank you so much for coming," he said, all charm. "My name is Perry Baker."

  A loud crunching came from the right side of the room. All heads turned curiously, and the crunching stopped as suddenly as it began. Holly stretched, trying to see over the heads between her and the source of the noise.

  Perry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Umn, please don't eat the mouse."

  Baldly curious, she stood up to get a better look at the show. The ghoul sat perfectly still, a belligerent expression on his face. The cable that normally ran to the mouse ran into his mouth, dangling like a tail. His cheek bulged, evidence of guilt.

  This should be interesting.

  The ghoul chewed once and a plasticky crunch resounded, like a very loud potato chip. Holly never thought a peripheral could sound so tasty.

  A nervous giggle rippled through the room.

  Tugging authoritatively on his oversized black T-shirt, Perry Baker marched up to the ghoul's desk. He held out one long-fingered hand. "Spit it out."

  The ghoul glowered as only ghouls could, with mean little eyes and a wrinkly nose.

  Beside Holly, Alessandro stood up as well, his eyebrows drawn together. She guessed he was deciding whether or not to intervene. Ghouls could be nasty customers when riled, and vampires were one of the few species able to beat them in a brawl.

  But Perry was as yet unfazed. "Spit," he repeated slowly and firmly. "It. Out!"

  The ghoul growled, a disgusting sound like something rotten just come to the boil. That made Perry take a step back, but it was more a regrouping than a retreat. He drew himself up as much as his youthful dignity would allow and pulled off his glasses.

  Without warning his lip curled up, his lower jaw dropping almost to his chest. Fangs sprouted from his gums in a painful-looking wash of blood and saliva. His mouth grew huge, pushing forward to accommodate more and yet more of those sharp white teeth. A long, lolling red tongue surged wetly past his jaws, questing toward the ghoul.

  The growl that emerged from Perry rumbled like low thunder, rattling the pen on her desk and rising to a crescendo that vibrated Holly's breastbone. Hair stood up along her neck, her instinct to flee at war with the instinct to be small and invisible. After a long moment the growl finally stopped, but it echoed in the air, cowing the room into silence.

  Holly blinked. Perry looked completely normal. He pushed his glasses back on and extended his hand once more. Without moving the ghoul spit out the mouse. It fell to the desk in a clatter of gummy, crushed plastic, the workings spewing like entrails to the floor. Perry looked at the mouse, his brow wrinkled in consternation.

  "Consider yourself expelled," he said, and walked back to the head of the class.

  Holly sat. Alessandro sat. There was nothing like a werewolf for maintaining classroom discipline.

  Chapter 18

  Like a good teacher, Perry made the rounds of the workstations, making sure he had happy little students. When he leaned forward to see Holly's screen, she caught the musky scent that clung to weres, a smell that reminded her of oiled leather. It wasn't bad, just not human.

  "Good," he said, straightening. "You're at the head of the class." He looked at her curiously, his eyes a dark blue behind his glasses. "I just wanted to ask, are you the Holly Carver that, uh, knows Ben Elliot?"

  "Yes," she said, trying to read his tone. Was the fact that he knew her good or bad?

  Alessandro looked up from pondering an online auction of lingerie, obviously eavesdropping.

  Perry pulled off his glasses, polishing the lenses with the hem of his oversized shirt. "I heard about… Well, he's an idiot. If you need anything, you let me know. Anytime. I'm almost always here or in my office."

  After class Alessandro and Holly walked across the parking lot back to the main campus. It had started to drizzle, a thin, persistent wetness more mist than rain.

  "Why would a ghoul take a computer class?" Alessandro said unexpectedly.

  "Is this like a chicken joke?"

  "No, I'm serious."

  Holly shrugged. "I guess ghouls have aspirations, too."

  "Equal rights for all," Alessandro mused. "Interesting how that plays out."

  They walked along, moisture gleaming on the sidewalks. As the trees at the edge of the parking lot swayed in the wind, shadows brushed the glistening pavement. Holly turned up the collar of her coat. Alessandro seemed not to notice the cold.

  "What was that comment about Perry being there for me?" Holly asked. "That was awkward. Has our young professor got a grudge against Ben?"

  Holly looked up at Alessandro. Beneath the streetlights he looked almost human, the pallor of his skin tempered by the shifting shadows. Her fingers longed to trace the angles of his face. I shouldn't be alone with him, and yet every time I turn, he is there.

  "Perry is much like your Ben," he said. "A cherished son, brilliant, young, and always able to have whatever advantages money could buy. Perry's pack owns a large gravel company west of town."

  "Are you saying they're too much alike?"

  "They would be very alike, except Perry isn't human, and Ben is one of those spearheading a petition to keep nonhumans out of the faculty. Support for his movement is gaining ground, and if the nonhuman teachers go, it won't be long before the open admissions policy will disappear. It's all part of the prohuman backlash."

  "You've got to be joking!"

  "Believe it. Already Perry has to post a notice on his door warning students they are entering the office of a monster. Ben probably doesn't even know Perry is a competent sorcerer, and will only make matters worse if he finds out."

  Holly swore. This is ridiculous. The werebeasts' ability to shape-shift was hereditary, not contagious. They kept to themselves and, unlike humans, worked hard on maintaining civilized behavior. Ben had never mentioned any prohuman activities to her. Was he a bigot all along, and I didn't see it?

  Maybe love really was blind, or else Ben was a better actor than she thought. "So how did Perry know about me and Ben?"

  "I don't know. Ben must have said something. Staff room gossip. They're in the same department."

  Holly felt sick. "Great. Did Perry tell you Ben and I broke up?"

  Alessandro tilted his head, studying her for a long moment. His expression was hard to read. "Your grandmother told me. And I try to know everything about you."

  Holly swallowed, feeling her heart skitter. "You know that's possessive and creepy, right? Like showing up at Mac's? Showing up here? Why do you keep doing this?"

  "There is a demon on the loose, and it knows you."

  "Right. Yeah. I noticed. That mouse was hard to miss."

  He thrust his hands into his pockets. "It's not that I don't have confidence in your ability to protect yourself…"

  "And yet everywhere I go, you're always showing up. It's called stalking."

  He gave a single, short laugh. "You don't want to see me? You want me to go away?"

  Oh, great. "It's not that. It's… It makes me feel helpless. I don't need that."

  He stopped walking and turned to face her. "Are you sure you're not sending me away because I frighten you?"

  How I feel about you frightens me. Holly ducked her head. "Alessandro, we're standing in a movie cliché. Female student on campus at night, alone with the predator. I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust you w
ith my life. I'm not stupid, and I'm not unprepared. If you or anything else jumps me, I will fry your ass with every scrap of magic I can summon. Got it?"

  He gave a lopsided smile. "And you are worried about feeling helpless? What is there left for me to do? Sometimes… sometimes I don't know how to approach you. Where I fit."

  His lost expression made her want to bang her head on a wall. Alpha males. "I'm so not good at this."

  She felt the pull of his magnetism and the corresponding push to be free of his seductive influence. If it were only the vampire part of him, it would have been easy, but the man was every bit as compelling. "I'm not trying to get rid of you, but you're my friend, not my private thug. I can't have you doing everything for me. I don't want a bodyguard twenty-four-seven."

  At that he nodded, his expression closing down. Despite her best efforts he'd taken her words as a rebuff. Irritated, Holly looked away. He just doesn't get it.

  He pressed his lips together, a quick gesture of decision. "Well, then let's even the account. As I said before, I need you to do something for me. Tonight."

  "Okay." She almost sighed in relief. At least it was a change of subject.

  "Let's go somewhere warm, where we can talk and you can stop shivering."

  Barnaby's Café and Tearoom wasn't technically on campus, but it was close enough. Dripping with faux Victorian atmosphere, the cafeteria-style eatery had etched-glass windows and an elaborate rolled-tin ceiling.

  It also had the best bakery in town. Holly bought a brownie—not because she was hungry, but because it pleaded with her through the glass case. She sat facing the tall windows, enjoying the thrum of energy that pulsed through a city when nightfell and the neon came to life.

  Not interested in food, Alessandro had dropped her off so that she could go through the line while he parked. Now he glided toward her, his tall, black-clad figure alien amidst the human patrons. Pulling up one of the flimsy metal chairs, he sat, knees bumping the underside of the tiny table. With an irritated mutter he shifted back, unzipping his fringed jacket to reveal a mesh T-shirt beneath the leather. He tugged the jacket collar into place, crossed one lace-up boot over the other, and shook his pale hair free until the longest of the curls brushed the arm of the chair.

  It was quite a performance. Holly wanted to applaud. Alessandro, the perfect picture of rock royalty, had arrived.

  He tilted his head, looking at her intently.

  "So, you need me to do something for you," Holly prompted, plowing her fork through the thick fudge of the brownie.

  "I do," he said.

  With one finger he began making roads through the crumbs on the tabletop. His jacket swung open to reveal a metal shape under his arm. A gun? Holly felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. She hadn't noticed it before. He must have had it in the car. He noticed her looking and shifted to better hide it.

  "Expecting something unusual?" Holly asked, her voice tight. Her gaze roamed the cafe. There were three other occupied tables, but they were a little way off.

  "Yes. That is what I wished to speak to you about." He looked at the remnants of her brownie as if it were swamp ooze. "Are you done with that yet?"

  "No." Holly sipped her coffee. "But you can start talking."

  "You recall the conversation we had with Macmillan about questioning a spirit."

  "Yes, the one where I heroically volunteered to perform necromancy, and you got a mysterious phone call that prompted you to leave, muttering about bad smells."

  "That would be the one." Frowning, he flicked a crumb onto the floor.

  "What about it?" The reminder brought back the irritation she had felt the night before.

  "Macmillan called this afternoon," he said. "He has a lead on a grave at St. Andrew's. There've been reports of spirit activity. He wants to meet us there in about, oh, an hour."

  Holly sat back, the flimsy cafe chair giving a plaintive creak.

  "Tonight?" Her voice had the same tone as the chair. She didn't want to do this. She hated necromancy. She hated herself for volunteering. So much for Ms. I-can-look-after-myself.

  "Yes. Are you still sure you want to do this? You are free to say no."

  She wasn't sure how she looked, but Holly felt pale. Still, she nodded yes.

  Alessandro noticed her hesitation. "The spell doesn't take much time to prepare, right?"

  "Not if we're just raising a ghost rather than a body, but…"

  "Ah." He took out his fancy gold lighter and began toying with it, turning it over and over in his hand. It was a classic smoker's fidget. "You need more time to prepare yourself?"

  Now Holly's stomach wasn't happy about the brownie, at least not after a chaser of panic. "No, no, I'll be all right."

  "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself."

  "I'm putting positivity into the universe in hopes that it will manifest."

  That earned her a slight smile. "There is one change that might make this easier. Or not. I am not sure." He leaned forward, putting his lips inches from her ear. "My queen believes she can identify the demon. All we need our spirit to do is confirm her suspicions."

  Holly went cold, as if her blood had suddenly stopped pumping. "How long has she known this?"

  A look of bitter frustration passed over his face. He was obviously biting back something he couldn't say. Holly sipped her coffee, but it suddenly tasted off, as if the conversation had tainted it.

  "What's going on, Alessandro?"

  He looked cautiously around the cafe. "The information just came to light."

  "Do I really need to raise the dead just to check her answers?"

  "There's more. We need the spirit's assistance in finding a lost article. It's my understanding that magical artifacts can be traced through the ether?"

  "Yeah, it's all part of being stuck between worlds."

  Holly noticed that the patrons at one table were leaving, scraping chairs over the floor and chatting at top volume. She looked at the clock over the door. It was nearly ten. The place would be closing up soon.

  "So, what is it we're after?" Holly asked. "Ruby shoes? A spray can of Demon-B-Gone?"

  "I can't tell you."

  "That's ridiculous. I can't work like this."

  Faster than her eye could follow, his hand was on hers, his long hair swinging from the sudden motion. His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. "Listen to me. There was a theft. Many books and objects were taken, but we seek one book in particular. It holds the secrets to weaken a demon's powers so that it can be banished. We have to find that book."

  Mollified, Holly hitched her chair forward. "Okay."

  His eyes shifted sideways. "You must say nothing of this. This is not information we can share with anyone, not even the detective."

  "So you're finally trusting me with one of your secrets. Hurray. I need more. Was this book stolen from a sorcerer? A vampire? What's the history of this theft?"

  He narrowed his eyes. "Just remember that not all secrets are safe to know. Your job is to raise the dead. Let me question the spirit."

  "Because you know the specifics, and I don't." She glared at him, waiting for a response. "Such as, let me see, what book this is, or who lost it, and why this one in particular was stolen."

  "Precisely."

  "Keeping me in the dark like this doesn't help. Do you realize how it makes me feel?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "Understand this: I'm keeping your skin whole. In time we may not be the only ones looking for these items. Not all vampires play well with others, and the less you know the safer we all can sleep."

  Holly looked away, furious. She could understand his point, but she liked hers better. "We're supposed to be partners."

  "You get the car keys when we're beating up on a possessed house. Right now I get to drive."

  She made no reply, trying to calm down enough to find a new argument. This is absurd. How am I supposed to

  convince a ghost to help us find a book when I don't even know the t
itle?

  "Trust me, Holly; I know what I'm talking about."

  "Can I?" She shrugged, letting her annoyance show. This was the crux of the matter. "I can't trust somebody who won't trust me."

  Alessandro's expression turned cold. "Don't try blackmail."

  Riding a bubble of frustration, Holly nearly lunged across the table. "You keep hiding things from me. It hurts."

  Alessandro put his hand on her cheek. The touch was nearly human-warm. He had fed that night. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you everything you want. There are secrets here that aren't mine to tell. I can't betray them. Honor is one of the few things I have left."

  There was no arguing with his expression. In fact, she wanted to wipe that look off his face before it broke her heart.

  Holly pushed his hand away and flopped back in her chair. "Fine. If it gets us a step closer to a demon-free existence, let's just go do the deed. Where's Mac?"

  With a stormy look Alessandro stood, jacket fringe swinging. "He said he'd meet us there."

  "You boys come up with all the fun activities, don't you?"

  Chapter 19

  They took his T-Bird, the rumble of the big engine in competition with the guitars ululating from six overpowered speakers. Apparently they were through with casual conversation. Holly was quiet, wrapped in a sulk like a cozy blanket.

  The guitars died midshriek as he killed the engine. St. Andrew's spread out before them, draped in a mantilla of sea fog. Holly got out and buttoned her coat against the clammy wind.

  "I can't see a damned thing," she complained.

  "Then stay close to me." Alessandro pulled out the gun, the holster making a whispery rasp of metal on leather.

  The sound made Holly's skin crawl, but then her eyes adjusted enough to see the gun properly. It was one like Mac had, made for silver bullets. He fitted a suppressor onto it.

  Cold sweat slithered down her back like an inquisitive snake. "What are you afraid of?"

  He turned, his features lost in the darkness. "Not much. But I am cautious."