Undead and Unworthy u-7 Page 11

  “And I,” Sinclair said, rising, “shall assist you.”

  He chased me all the way to our room.

  Chapter 37

  Sinclair was as good as his word; he soaped my back, washed my hair for me, and pretty soon we were groaning and biting each other under the pounding water. Sex in the shower didn't always work for people, but I was a tall girl.

  And while he pushed, pushed, pushed into me, I watched the blood from my bite trickle down his back and swirl down the drain. Then the universe went away for a few seconds, while my orgasm took over my brain. Thank God Sinclair had a good grip, or I would have gone down like a sawed Sequoia.

  We were relaxing in the second or third afterglow – we'd gone from the shower to the bed, and the sheets had completed the job of drying us – and I was grinning like a monkey. Sure, there were still problems, but now we were thinking about solutions. Maybe we were turning a corner on this. Maybe we –

  From far below us, the front door boomed open, and I heard the very distinctive sound of Antonia's growl, followed by Tina's shrieked, “Majesties!”

  “It never ends,” I moaned, reaching for a robe. Sinclair had slipped into a pair of pants and was already out the door. “It never ends!”

  I beat him to the foyer, but only because he had too much dignity to vault the banister and bypass the stairs. Ha! Score one for – aggh! I had nearly skidded in the blood.

  Antonia was in her werewolf form – I glanced at the bigass clock at the far end of the hall and saw that dawn was still at least ten minutes away.

  She had dragged a dead Fiend in with her.

  “Um. Good dog?”

  Garrett was shivering behind her. He clearly hadn't cared for the night's fun-​filled activities, but knew he looked bad enough already in his lover's eyes.

  I felt sorry for him. Anybody who says good guys never get scared and do stupid things has watched too many action movies. Yeah, he'd shown the less noble half of the human condition these past few days, but I could never forget what he'd gone through, and how far he'd come.

  The man had never asked to become a vampire, or a Fiend, or anything else. He just woke up one day in a world full of pain, and wondered why. Just like the other Fiends.

  I couldn't even look to myself as a better example of how to act. Any poise I had, I was sure, was a function of my ignorance of what I truly faced as queen. To put it more bluntly, I was so clueless about the magnitude of my new job, I was too dumb to be scared.

  Antonia was sitting on her haunches, seeming to laugh at us with her wide mouth and eight zillion teeth. Her coat was the color of her hair, rich and dark. Interestingly, she had a white splotch on her chest, roughly diamond shaped. The splotch had a dark red smudge on it, and blood still trickled down her panting tongue.

  Tina was examining the dead (again) Fiend. “This one appears to be the one Betsy named Sandy.”

  He was a large man, built like a farmer with thick shoulders and long, powerful legs. Not as tall as Skippy, but still formidable. Shirtless, with ripped jeans. No shoes or socks. His feet were filthy; God knew how long he'd been running around like that.

  His throat had been torn out. Among other things.

  “She found his scent in the garbage pile out back – the stuff the contractors left after they fixed the house,” Garrett said. “We've followed it all night. She caught him alone and – well. You can see.”

  “Sure can.”

  Okay, there was another corpse in my foyer, and that was, under any circumstances, bad. But Marc and Jessica were out, and untouched by this. So I was at a total loss as to how to react: Great job? Naughty werewolf? Thanks? Don't run off ever again on a murderous rampage, or I'll kick your ass? Murder bad? Murder good?

  I finally settled on concern for my friend. “For crying out loud, Antonia! You could have been killed! Bad, bad werewolf!” I was towering over her, shaking my finger (but not getting it too close to all those teeth). “This is the sort of thing that can get you killed, and then where would Garrett be without you? You were really sweet to try and solve our problem, but I don't want you going off alone like that ever again!”

  Bored, Antonia licked blood from her left paw.

  “I mean it!”

  The werewolf yawned.

  “If you have more to add to your lecture,” Sinclair said, his lips twitching, “you had better hurry. I estimate the sun will be up in less than five minutes.”

  “Dammit!” While I could withstand sunlight, the coming of dawn was still a narcoleptic trigger for me. Worse so than for other vampires; apparently, this was part of the price of being queen.

  I tried to end my lecture quickly, but Sinclair had been (unintentionally, I'm sure!) mistaken: sunrise was in less than ten seconds.

  “There she goes,” Tina commented, as the floor rushed up to my face and everything went dark.

  Chapter 38

  Someone had considerately carried me up to bed (I prayed it was Sinclair), and I woke up with a large Post-​it stuck to my forehead.

  I snatched it away and read: Developments! Come down as soon as you get rid of your horrible vampire breath. Also, your mom wants to know how long she's going to be stuck with BabyJon; I guess he's teething again.

  Oh, goody. Jessica was back. And my poor baby brother! He drooled like a beast when he popped a new tooth; I'd seen him soak an entire quilt. He was impossibly cute most of the time, with his shock of black hair, amazing blue eyes, and sweetly chubby limbs, but I could hardly bear to look at him when he was slobbering his way through the tooth of the week.

  I couldn't help it; I grinned, picturing my mother's horror at watching BabyJon soak one of her antique quilts.

  I hopped out of bed, shrugged out of yesterday's outfit, and brushed my teeth and hair. Then I changed into gray leggings, a dark blue PROPERTY OF RENFEST sweatshirt, and black flats – no socks. Then I hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

  “ – took him down so easy,” Antonia was bragging. “Look! Not a mark on me.”

  “Anymore,” Sinclair corrected her politely. “You don't fool me, dear.”

  “Okay, maybe El Fiendo got in a few good ones, I admit it. But I'm all healed up and he's roasting in hell. That puts it in the win column for me.”

  “It was foolish of the two of you to go after him by yourselves. You might have run into all of them.”

  All of them – I wondered how many were left. Jeez, even when I knew they were running around pissed at me, I couldn't keep track of them.

  “Hey, think I'm gonna sit around on my ass while the fuckin' Fiends pop up without warning whenever they want? Who needs the pressure? Besides, I hate pop-​ins. I hate this whole stupid situation.” Except she appeared to be thriving on it.

  “So where is the dead guy who was in our foyer?” I asked, gratefully accepting a glass of grapefruit juice from Tina. It wasn't nearly as good for me as Sinclair's blood, but I'd had enough from my husband to keep me going for a while. “Not that I mind that he's gone.”

  “The body,” Sinclair said carefully, knowing how I felt about such icky things, “is in the basement, in the walk-​in freezer.”

  I shuddered, and juice slopped over the rim of my glass. Among other things, when the mansion had been modernized thirty years ago, the old owners had put in a giant freezer for entertaining. Luckily, we kept it empty. Most of the time.

  “We don't know if we will need access to the body again,” Tina said apologetically. “I staked it after you fell asleep, just to be sure.”

  “Do we know his real name?” I wasn't expecting a good answer here, but I had to ask.

  I got a pleasant surprise from Tina. “Nick was here, and printed him. He's going to run it through privately – ”

  “Why privately?”

  Antonia gave me a “you poor dumb bitch” look, as Tina patiently explained, “What if the dead man was born in 1910? And he looks like a man in his late thirties? That might bring up questions we would find awkward to answer.”


  “Does Nick have enough juice to run prints – twice – without anybody else finding out?”

  “We will see.”

  I had to be happy with that. I knew dick about police procedural. But if he was getting secret assignments from the chief, he probably had some clout.

  “Thank you for your assistance, Antonia,” Sinclair said over my musings. “We are grateful.”

  “Why do you think I beat feet to get back here from the Cape? You guys'd sit around and talk it to death. You need a werewolf to get shit done.”

  “Are all werewolves as insufferable as you are?” I asked sweetly, “or are you a genetic anomaly?”

  Before she could answer, I looked around and said, “Hey, where's Laura? I'd think she'd want to be in on all this stuff now that she knows what's going on.”

  “She called while you were sleeping; she's teaching her church youth group tonight,” Tina said with a barely repressed shudder.

  “Okay, how about Jess? She left me a sticky note.”

  “You just missed her; she went to Detective Berry's house, complaining bitterly that it had been 'ages and ages' since they'd had some alone time.”

  “Why didn't she just go with him?”

  “Oh, it's kind of dumb. She doesn't like to be stuck at anybody's house without a getaway car. It's one of her things. But it's great that she gets to see him tonight... he must have the night off.”

  Tina was opening her laptop. “Yes, yes, the poor deprived things. Let them stay gone for a month.”

  I was unwrapping a blue raspberry Blo-​Pop. “Tina,” I said reproachfully, then popped it into my mouth and sucked enthusiastically.

  “Sorry, Majesty, you know I'm fond of Jessica. It's him I can't stand. And if he deliberately places you in harm's way once more, I may not be responsible for my actions.”

  “You shush. Just check your e-​mail.”

  “Actually,” she said, not looking up, “I'm checking Nick's e-​mail.”

  I nearly gagged on the sucker. “Boo! Unless you've got a warrant. And vampires can't get warrants, I bet.” I paused. “Can we?”

  “You're so adorably naive, I may vomit,” my husband said from behind the Washington Post.

  “And you're so – ” My cell phone chirped “Living Dead Girl” and I snatched at it. I was sure it was my mom, bitching about baby duty. But there was no way BabyJon was coming back here until we – “Hi, Mom?”

  “It's Jessica!” I winced and held the phone away from my ear. “You've got to come, quick! All of you! Nick's gone, but the Fiends have been here!”

  “Whoa, whoa, calm down.” I was trying to take my own advice and not hyperventilate. “How d'you know the Fiends took him?”

  “Who else would break in and attack him? Please, please come right now! There's blood all over the place!”

  “But – but – ” I was so panicked I couldn't think, much less speak. “But why did they take Nick?”

  “Because,” Tina said, not looking up from her laptop, “the fingerprints came back. Forensics notified him by e-​mail, but he hasn't actually gotten this message yet, so they had to move fast. And so will we.”

  “What? Why?”

  “The Fiend's name was Edward Hamlin.”

  Hamlin? Why did I know that name? So much had been happening in a short time, I –

  “Nick has been working on a little project for Police Chief Hamlin,” Tina added, helping me out.

  “We're coming!” I shrieked into the cell, then snapped it shut so hard I broke it.

  Chapter 39

  Nick lived in a great-​looking bachelor pad in Minneapolis, overlooking the Mississippi River. The view was terrific, which made up for the fact that the yard was the size of a Post-​it note, and just as yellow.

  I'd never been there – luckily, Tina's laptop was stuffed with all sorts of interesting tidbits, including addresses she had no business knowing. She had MapQuested it, and here we all were.

  Jessica had the place wide open for us, and I could see it was full of rich-​guy toys: an extra truck, skis, a snowmobile, a Jetski. And that was just the garage. The house itself was brick, with dark green trim and a short, crack-​free driveway.

  Inside, the place was a complete shambles – we could practically follow the progress of the fight by observing the broken furniture and shattered glassware. He clearly hadn't gotten to his gun, which was too bad for him. I couldn't blame him – he'd been relaxing at home, getting ready for a date with Jessica, with no way of knowing his boss, the chief of police, had fed him to the wolves – almost literally.

  Jessica was waiting for us in the living room, which looked like a bomb had detonated from beneath the carpet. He might not have had his gun, but he'd put up a helluva fight. It made me remember why I'd liked him a couple of years ago.

  “Ballsy bastard,” was Antonia's comment.

  FALSE QUEEN was written on the biggest wall, the one without any windows. Sinclair leaned close, sniffed, then reported quietly, “Detective Berry's blood.”

  “But not so much that he's dead, right?” Jessica begged. “Not enough to kill him, right?”

  Sinclair put an arm around my trembling friend. “No, dear one. Not nearly enough.”

  “She cannot go,” Tina said firmly.

  “Indeed, no.”

  “What are you two talking about?” I tried to keep my voice low and authoritative, when it wanted to go high and squeaky.

  Tina shook her head, but Sinclair came right out with it. “This is an ancient challenge among vampires – ”

  “So how do Fiends who have been out of it for six decades know anything about it?” I asked, trying not to sound hysterical.

  “It's important to keep in mind they are remembering more and more every day – and in fact may have lied to us about what they do remember, at any rate.” Sinclair glanced at the bloody letters again. “Regardless of how they know, they know. Such a step is usually taken to settle a grudge or, occasionally, determine ability to rule. This message means that if you value your crown, you will rescue Nick and defeat the Fiends.”

  “But how would I even know where to – ”

  “He'll be where it began for them,” Garrett said quietly. I jumped; he hadn't said a word since we'd left the mansion.

  “Nostro's house,” Tina added.

  “Well, then, I'm outta here!”

  Cue huge squabble fest. Not even Jessica was sure I should go, and, needless to say, Tina and Sinclair weren't keen on the idea at all. Antonia was practically foaming at the mouth to come with me; she'd had a taste of Fiend already and didn't mind getting wet. I had a momentary flash – thank goodness Laura had her youth group tonight; she'd just be one more person trying to stop me.

  Don't get me wrong, I sure as shit didn't want to go. I predicted a messy death and Nick's curses being the last thing I ever heard in this life. But, like it (I didn't) or not, I was the queen. Did I think a hideous mistake had been made somewhere along the way? You bet. Was I going to welsh out of my obligation? Never in life. (Or death, I s'pose.)

  The rules were, I go alone. So, I go alone. Besides, the Fiends would spot the others, and then they'd play kickball with Nick's head. How could I face my best friend if I got her lover killed 'cause I was too chickenshit to show up alone?

  “ – absolutely out of the question – ”

  “ – but she's the only one who – ”

  “ – can't leave Nick to – ”

  “ – not open for discussion, as far as I am concerned – ”

  “ – her responsibility – ”

  “ – not going to let her essentially commit suicide – ”

  The argument was escalating in both intensity and volume (I noticed no one was much interested in my opinion), and there was no time, Goddammit, no time at all.

  “Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up! We have no time, don't you get it? Now I'm going.”

  “Not at all,” Sinclair said calmly.

  “Tradition dictate
s she do exactly that,” Tina said reluctantly, correcting her sovereign for maybe the fourth time in eighty years – a real toughie for her, since she wasn't too keen on me going in the first place.

  “They'll kill you!” Jessica cried.

  “Yes,” Garrett said. “They will.”

  “The fuck they will! They can't take the king and queen and a fellow Fiend and me. We'll eat 'em for dinner! Let's go! Right now!” And I noticed an odd thing; all the fine hairs on Antonia's arms were standing straight up. If she'd been in her wolf form, she'd be bristling all over.

  “We had practically the same group the first time the Fiends came, and we ran away,” Jessica said. “What's changed?”

  “A challenge written in your lover's blood,” Sinclair said, kindly enough.

  “Come on, you chickenshits!” Antonia barked. “We can take those fuckers.”

  “Maybe. And then Nick will be fish food,” Tina said, biting her lip.

  “My alpha's not going alone, and that's how it is!”

  “Shut up, Antonia, all of you shut up! Just – shut up!” My head was pounding, like it was going to split down the middle of my forehead; I was clutching my temples and wondering why it was so damned hot in here. It seemed like the heat was battering at me, trying to get in, and all at once I dropped my hands and let it, let it all in, let it burn me alive.

  Instantly, the room went quiet, a quiet broken by the thuds of my friend's bodies hitting the floor. I stood over them, shocked. Knelt quickly and found Jessica's pulse, realized Tina and Sinclair were as alive as they could be, just unconscious. Antonia, too, was out cold – and so was Garrett. I was the only one still standing.

  And I felt like a million bucks. I felt like I could jump across the Mississippi. And I loved the sudden peace and quiet – I could finally hear myself think. I felt almost – what was the word? Euphoric. Yeah. I felt – I felt an awful lot like the way I'd felt when I'd sucked Marjorie dry, only not so frenzied and out of control.