Up From the Grave: A Night Huntress Novel by Jeaniene Frost Page A

best weapon for the final battle when we took out Madigan and the people behind him, not waste the surprise on the skirmishes before it.
    It was the only logical choice, but it didn’t bode well for getting my friends out alive. I tried to remember the last time I’d talked with Tate. Had we fought? Possibly. Our relationship had been strained over the past couple years, but things had just started to get back to normal. I hated that I might never get a chance to tell him what his friendship had meant to me, through the good times and the bad.
    Mencheres must have sensed my brooding because he said, “We’re returning tomorrow to the States with you,” in his most soothing voice. “I’ll be near when you need me, Cat.”
    I flashed him a grateful smile. Once, I’d hated the ancient Egyptian vampire. Now the knowledge that he would be near for the final confrontation filled me with profound relief.
    “Thank you.”
    He gifted me with one of his rare smiles. You’re welcome.
    The words weren’t spoken aloud. Instead, they slid directly into my thoughts like a telepathic text message. Mencheres, with his staggering age and abilities, was the only vampire I’d met who could communicate this way though he’d only done it with me once before.
    “Show-off,” I murmured.
    Another twitch of his lips, but then he turned his attention to the window and the lights it revealed when the plane banked sharply.
    “We’re here.”
    V ladislav Basarab Dracul’s house was exactly what you’d expect from the uncrowned prince of darkness: a massive mansion that was equal parts beautiful and barbaric, with intricately carved balconies and pillars next to gargoyle-adorned towers and turrets. It was also busier than I’d ever seen it. Members of his staff waited outside the four-story structure, hurrying to park cars as fast as the guests arrived. That wasn’t the only difference since my last visit. Instead of electricity, torches now lit up the exterior. They stood over a dozen feet tall around the grounds of the house, while smaller ones adorned the mansion’s many balconies. I would have called it a fire hazard except for Vlad’s abilities. Nothing burned around him unless he wanted it to.
    We were politely hustled inside the great hallway, where more attendants took our overnight bags after asking our names. Inside, candles replaced the normal lights, and tuxedoed staff passed out crystal glasses filled with something crimson yet bubbly. Curious, I grabbed one off the nearest tray and took a sip.
    “You’ve got to try this,” I told Bones, handing him the glass. “It’s like Cristal and O-Negative had a love child.”
    Bones took it, raising an appreciative brow as he swallowed. He might not be Vlad’s biggest fan—okay, most days the two men hated each other—but he clearly approved of Drac’s plasma-infused bubbly.
    Seeing his throat work as he took a second, longer sip reminded me that I hadn’t fed in over a day. How sexy Bones looked in his ebony tuxedo with his dark brown locks hugging his head like a sleek helmet only fueled the hunger rising inside me. We hadn’t had time to shop before Mencheres picked us up, but thankfully, the former pharaoh had plenty of fancy clothes. Mencheres and Bones were similar in size, so his borrowed tuxedo fit him as though it had been made for him.
    “Have another,” I said to Bones, handing him a new glass of the champagne-infused blood after he finished the first one. “You’ll need to be well hydrated later.”
    His mouth curled as he accepted the glass. Then his fingers held mine captive as he brought the glass up to drink. My knuckles brushed his smooth chin as he swallowed while those dark eyes never left mine. Only after he’d drained it did he release me, and by then, I didn’t want him to. In fact, I was wondering where our guest room was and if we had time to slip away before the wedding started.
    He leaned down, his gaze now tinged with green as he set his