The Bite Before Christmas
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS Chapter Twenty-Four

Bones fell asleep during the car ride back to the cabin. He slept all through the night while I stripped both houses of everything that smelled like his brother, down to throwing away the rug that had hidden the symbols for the ritual that split Hazael into several different parts. The others were glad to help in this endeavor, and before dawn broke, the only evidence that Wraith had ever been here was the sheet-draped portrait of the Duke of Rutland and a box containing the Russell ancestral records. Wraith's remains were buried on the lower section of the hill, marked with a wooden cross that had a warding spell etched onto it. It was the best way I knew to ensure he rested in peace.
Ian and I also answered everyone's questions as to how their possessions had been possible, and why he, I, and Denise had remained unscathed. We left out only one detail, but I was waiting for Bones to wake up before going into that. I showed off my new warding tattoo, since it was on my hip and I didn't need to see Ian take his pants off again. Though the chances of any other possessed-human-turned-vampire wreaking havoc in our line were incalculably slim, I saw matching warding tattoos in everyone's near future. Better safe than sorry.
Then, shortly after dawn, I fell into bed next to my husband. Bones didn't move, but tendrils of power curled around me, showing some part of him was aware of my presence even if the rest of him was out cold. I didn't expect him to wake up until that evening at least, so I was startled when, only a few hours later, I awoke to the sound of Bones's raised voice.
" . . . explain how you could have kept such a thing from me!"
Uh-oh. I hurried downstairs to find Annette seated on the couch with Bones pacing in front of her. She was in a nightgown and he still wore the same salt-stiffened clothes he'd fallen asleep in, so Bones must have woken up and then immediately dragged her out of bed. Considering the topic, I couldn't blame him for his impatience.
"You knew I had a brother." His finger stabbed the air near her as he spoke. "You knew because you turned him into a vampire, else the demon in Wraith couldn't have split off into you first. So I ask again why you never revealed this to me in the two hundred and twenty years that we've known each other!"
Now I wasn't the only one awakened by Bones's strident voice. Ian came into the living room, and I heard low mutterings behind Spade and Denise's door. Kira and Mencheres were in the other cabin, but if Bones kept this up, he'd wake them, too.
Annette took in a deep breath, a spasm of pain crossing her features. "Because while I was still human, I swore an oath that I would never tell you about your father's family."
His gaze was harder than flint. "Who did you swear this oath to? Who was this person you valued more than everything I've ever done for you?"
She met his stare. "She was Lucille, your mother's half-cousin . . . and the madam of the bordello you grew up in."
My eyes widened. According to what Bones had told me years ago, Lucille was also the person responsible for him turning into a gigolo when he was seventeen.
"His second cousin was a she-pimp for both Bones and his mother?" I asked Annette in disbelief.
"You make it sound so crude," Annette muttered. "You have no idea what it was like to be impoverished in the seventeen hundreds. There was no welfare, no food stamps, and no opportunities. When Penelope's father took the Duke of Rutland's money and then turned her out into the street, Lucille was the only one who took her in. Could she help it that the only means she had to assist Penelope was by offering the same employment she herself endured? The same was true when Crispin was older."
"Mind your tone with my wife," Bones said sharply, but I'd felt the emotions cresting in him. Poignant sparks of remembrance told me Annette's bleak assessment had been correct. What sounded like coldness when filtered through my modern, privileged viewpoint had perhaps been kindness back then.
"I found out all this after you were arrested for stealing," Annette continued on, her voice husky now. "Lucille was far from flawless, but she did love you. She knew of my affection for you, too, so she came to me, told me the story of your parentage, and begged me to contact the Duke of Rutland regarding your predicament. He'd never disputed that he was the father of Penelope's babe, so Lucille thought he might intercede on your behalf. If he didn't, you'd surely hang."
Annette closed her eyes, running a hand through her golden-red hair. "I arranged for a private audience with the duke, though I confess I wondered if Lucille was mad. That changed the moment he walked into the room. You saw the portrait, Crispin, so you know how closely you resemble him. I relayed your circumstances and begged him to intercede with the judge, but he refused. He said he had only one son, his new, legitimate heir, and then he turned me out."
I now understood why Annette hadn't ever wanted to tell Bones this part of his history. My dad had also been a prick, and while I didn't begrudge anyone a happy relationship with their father, sometimes I felt a wistful sense of loss hearing others speak of a bond I'd never have.
Annette glanced away. "You already know I sought the judge out myself and persuaded him to deport you to the colonies instead of sentencing you to the rope. When I went back to Lucille and informed her of everything, she made me swear that should you ever return, I would never reveal your father's identity or actions to you. And so I swore on your life not to do so." A tear slipped down her cheek. "Nothing else would have held me to that promise for so long, Crispin."
Now I couldn't feel anything from Bones. He'd locked his emotions behind an impregnable wall. "What of Wraith?"
She sighed. "I kept tabs on him during the nearly twenty years that you were away. He seemed a decent lad. Then, a few years after you turned me, I heard that he'd become involved in a secret noblemen's sect that sought power through the occult. I returned to London without you and confirmed it was true. Your father was dead by then, as was the duke's younger brother and Wraith's mother, so he had no family left except you. I thought . . . I thought by informing Wraith about vampires, perhaps he'd turn from the occult in favor of undead powers. So I showed him what I was and told him of you. He seemed terribly excited and was determined to meet you as a new vampire. Only now do I realize I may have been speaking to the demon instead of him."
"And you changed him over." Bones's voice was flat.
"Yes." Spoken as she met his gaze again. "After he was past the blood craze, I was going to introduce him as your birthday present and pretend to have accidentally discovered your familial connection by hearing his true name. But when I arrived at his house that day, I found a note saying he couldn't bear what he'd become and he was ending his own life. I searched the grounds and found a burned corpse with a silver knife in its chest. I believed it to be him, and felt it was my punishment for intending to break the vow I'd made to Lucille not to involve you with your father's family."
Annette let out a short laugh. "Two hundred years later, I received a call from a man claiming to be Wraith and saying he was ready to meet his brother as his birthday present. I didn't believe it, but I hadn't told anyone about him. So I waited at the hotel instead of leaving with Ian and the others, and, well, you know what happened then."
Yeah. Hazael showed up wearing Wraith's body like a Trojan horse and bled Annette enough to force the demon's first possession split into her. If not for Ian's horniness, we would never have known that she'd been attacked, and I would have had a lot less reason to be suspicious of Wraith at first.
"I don't expect you to forgive me, Crispin," Annette said, swiping away the moisture from her earlier tear. Her voice became brisk. "I await your punishment."
I personally thought Annette had been punished enough by holding those secrets for over two hundred years. Any sins she was guilty of were committed out of love and her own sense of honor, which might not be the same as mine, but it was just as sincere. Still, I wasn't her sire, so the decision wasn't mine.
Bones's mouth twisted. "What shall I do? Beat you? Cut you off from my line? With your knowledge of my past and my family, you are the only link that I have left to them."
"Actually," Ian said, speaking for the first time since he'd come in the room, "that's not quite true."