Ashes to Ashes (Barbie the Vampire Hunter Book 3)

by Lucinda Dark

  I eyed her and that drink. "How many of those have you had?" I asked hesitantly. "And does it have coffee in it?"

  She laughed. "Only like the smallest amount," she said. "I'm naturally perky."

  "You're naturally something," I muttered with a small grin.

  She removed her straw and used it to scoop up a dollop of whipped cream from the top. Sticking the whipped cream in her mouth, Olivia turned the straw my way and used it as a pointer. "I heard that, bitch," she said good-naturedly.

  I chuckled, but soon enough my laughter dried up and Olivia sat there, staring at me, waiting expectantly. I'd been the one to call this meeting after all. I swallowed roughly and clasped my hands in front of me.

  "Okay..." Olivia eyed me. "What's up?" she asked. "What's with that face? You look like you're about to either impart some ancient wisdom or tell me that someone killed my dog. Just for your information, I don't have a dog. My parents wouldn't let me get one. My dad's allergic."

  "It's..." I winced. "Do you remember what I told you when we came back from the city?" I asked, glancing around meaningfully to let her know to keep her voice down and not be obvious.

  She nodded. "It's not something a girl just forgets," she said.

  Not yet anyway, I thought. A grimace stretched and thinned my lips. "What if I told you," I tested, "that you could?"

  "Could what?" She scooped up more of the whipped cream from her cup and popped it in her mouth.

  "Forget," I clarified. "What if I told you that you could forget? That it would be safer if you would forget all about it? About everything I told you."

  She frowned, sitting up as she put her cup down on top of the table and leaned forward. "What are you saying, Barbie?"

  I closed my eyes. I was fucking this up. I didn't want to hurt her, but Torin and Maverick were not on board with her knowing everything. And after a few days of thought, I had to admit they were probably right. It wasn't safe for her to know.

  "I think it would be best if you agreed to let someone alter your memories." I winced as the words came out of my mouth. "A little," I amended.

  She stared at me, frowning as she tilted her head to the side and her brows lowered. "Is that ... what you want?" she asked. "You don't want me to remember?"

  "It's not about what I want," I said with a sigh. "There are other people at stake. There's so much that I didn't tell you—that I can't tell you—but even knowing as much or as little as you do now, I worry..."

  Olivia bit her lip as she looked at me. Her nails tapped out a rhythm on the tabletop, clicking against the solid wood. Each snap made my muscles contract and squeeze tighter as I waited for her answer. "Will," she started, clearing her voice with a cough when it came out rough and raspy, "will it keep you safer for me to forget?" she asked.

  There was no way in hell I'd be safe. Until Arrius Priest was taken care of, any safety I felt was only an illusion, but before I could tell her that, I found myself stopping. Was this what she needed to hear? I wondered. I looked at her and tried to determine what would make her ask something like that. Olivia wasn't the kind of person to be overly concerned with how the knowledge she had might affect her. Despite her airy, oftentimes annoying, self-possessed personality, she wasn't a selfish person. She'd agree to have her mind altered—to allowing someone else to change what she knew—if it meant her friend was protected.

  I could be a bitch. I could be a fucking asshole, I knew, and I was more than willing to make sacrifices for the greater good of my goals. Olivia did not need to be one of them.

  "Yes," I lied. "If you were to forget everything I told you, it would be safer."

  Her head dipped as she stared down at her lap, her red curls sliding over one shoulder as she contemplated my words. My hands clenched against the table as I waited. Tension ate away at my nerves and finally, she nodded.

  "Okay," she said, looking up.

  "Okay?" I repeated.

  She nodded and smiled. "It's not like I'm going to completely forget you," she said. "Just that you're Wonder Woman."

  I snorted. "I am not a superhero," I replied dryly.

  She laughed. "Could've fooled me." Olivia reached for her drink and stuffed her straw back into the hole at the top before sucking down a mouthful of the sugary semi-liquid. "Can we do it after prom, though?" she asked.

  I frowned. "Why after prom?"

  She shrugged. "There's just so much going on and Eliza asked me to be part of the decorating committee, I don't know why,"—she stopped and rolled her eyes—"as if I don't have enough to do, right? But I told her I would and then—”

  “This has nothing to do with wanting to get me to actually go?” I inquired.

  She froze for a split second before grinning widely. “Okay, so I know dresses aren’t really your shtick, but you already bought that gold number from Gem’s. I want you to go—no takesies backsies.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re putting this off just so you can ensure that I’ll actually show up at prom?”

  “I know you haven’t bought your ticket yet,” she pointed out. “I just want to make sure you don’t miss out on one of the most important rites of passage any young woman ever experiences.”

  “Forgive me,” I said dryly, “if getting drunk in itchy fabric and boning my boyfriend in the backseat of his car after really horrible music isn’t my idea of a good time.”

  Her eyes sharpened, lids lowering, lips pursing. “It’s prom, not a murder, you don’t have to act like it’s so distasteful.”

  I’d honestly prefer the murder. But I kept that little tidbit to myself. I sighed. “Fine,” I agreed. “I’ll go—I’ve got the dress anyway.”

  She squealed, clapping her hands. “Oh, I knew you’d agree. Did I tell you that Ben asked me to go to prom with him?” Her eyes lit up and she leaned forward. "I can't wait until he sees me in that dress we picked out. God, he's going to ravish me as soon as we’re alone. I just know it! He may not look it, but the boy has got some pretty good moves. There’s this thing he does with his tongue that—”

  “I don’t need to know,” I said, stopping her right there.

  She giggled, but let that subject drop as she moved onto the next. “We’re arriving in a limo," she continued with a wave of her hand. “It's all part of the end of our high school experience. But I don't want to be stuck waiting on everyone else, so Ben said he'd ask his dad to drop off one of their cars." Her eyes twinkled as she bobbed her eyebrows at me. "Did you hear that the school rented out the Bartol's ballroom? It's like the nicest place in town. Ben and I are getting a room at the hotel—another reason that he's getting his dad to drop off the car because it'll have clothes for us for the next day."

  It seemed odd that I was talking about something as mundane as prom and dresses and dates and hotels when I should've been back at the Priest guesthouse with the guys, getting ready to pack up and track down Arrius. But if Olivia wanted to wait until after prom, then we'd at least have to stay until then. One last hurrah before we went on our final hunt.

  "So, who are you going with?"

  "Huh?" I pulled myself from my thoughts and refocused on Olivia as she stared at me expectantly.

  "Are you going with Torin or Mav?" she asked.

  "I—um..." My eyes widened and I coughed, turning my head as heat suffused my cheeks.

  "Barbie?" Olivia leaned over the table. "Why are you blushing? You never blush."

  Lord, I swore internally. Please give me patience. 'Cause I really didn't want to have to ask Beth and Jon for bail money too.

  I reached out and shoved her back with a hand to her face. "Okay, well, I gotta go. Thanks for stopping by so I could talk to you." I got up quickly, reached for my bag and slung it over my shoulder. "See you at prom this weekend!" I yelled over my shoulder as she squawked and glared at me for my entire retreat.

  After all, it was my life motto that when in doubt, deny, deny, deny.

  This was a branch of that. When you didn’t want to answer a question,
avoid, avoid, avoid.

  Thirty-Three

  Barbie

  Prom arrived at the end of the week. I stood in my bedroom at the McKnight mansion, staring at myself in the mirror wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. The dress was gorgeous. I looked … acceptable, but unlike so many girls my age, I wasn’t excited about the idea of going to a themed dress up party, getting drunk in the back of the limo, and losing my virginity to my high school sweetheart. This had been my first and last year of school, I’d already lost my virginity several times over, and there would be no drunken shenanigans in the back of someone’s rented limo.

  A knock sounded on my bedroom door a moment before the knob turned and Beth stuck her head inside. She was already halfway through a question when she saw me and stopped.

  "—ready for tonight, Bar—" Beth's face was reflected back at me. So, I saw when her eyes widened and misted over as she came into the bedroom and closed the door behind her before leaning on it heavily. "You look beautiful, honey," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper but I could hear her clearly.

  "Thanks," I said awkwardly, staring down at the off brand black combat boots I'd chosen to wear. The same boots that had served me well the night of homecoming—hopefully they wouldn't see any action tonight.

  I swallowed roughly as I looked back at myself in the mirror. Gold fabric swished around my thighs, the glitter sparkling even in the dim lighting of my bedroom. Beth's feet made nearly no sound as she approached my back, her hands going to my shoulders as she touched me lightly. Months ago—when I'd first arrived—I wouldn't have felt comfortable with the casual touch. Now, though, it didn't bother me. Her fingers were warm on my skin as she squeezed lightly.

  Her lips trembled as they split into a smile. "Your mother would've been so proud of you, Barbie."

  The comment was so unexpected that it left me in shock. I frowned as I met her gaze in the reflection. "What do you mean?" I asked.

  She sniffed and gave a watery laugh as she removed one hand and wiped beneath her eyes. "I know having so much change in your life hasn't been easy, but you've faced it all with no small about of grace," Beth said. "I'm sure if your parents could see you now, they'd know how strong their daughter was."

  Strength. She said I was strong. I didn't know what to say because honestly, I didn't feel strong. Was strength being able to cut down an enemy? Was it walking away? Was it letting friends go to protect them? Was it accepting a life that would never be completely safe? Strength didn't seem like a universal term, but something that was more relative to a person's circumstances.

  "I'm not strong." The confession came quietly. It was far more unexpected than her comment and far more of a truth too. If my parents and my brother could see me now, I didn't think they'd be proud. I was no longer human.

  Perhaps, they wouldn't have wanted to be avenged, but there was no turning back the clock now. Sometimes, when you made a decision, you couldn't take it back later. You just had to accept the consequences of your actions and move on and hope like fuck everything worked out. I felt like that was what I was doing. Taking each day one at a time and hoping that I didn't fuck up enough to get everyone around me killed.

  Beth turned me around with insistent hands as she pulled me to her breast with one hand on the back of my head. I didn't fight the hug. "Barbie." My name was a whisper on her tongue. "I don't know what's going on in that mind of yours, but of course you are. Strength isn't determined by the weight that you can lift or the burden that you carry. Everyone has strength. So much has happened, but you haven't cracked under the pressure, and honestly, I'm starting to think that you never will." She withdrew her arms, clasping me by my biceps and pushing me away so that I had to look up into her beseeching eyes. "Losing your parents, moving to a new place, attending high school—those are no small accomplishments," she continued.

  But they were, I thought. They were nothing compared to what I now needed to do. Getting dressed up, going to prom—I felt like I was playing pretend. This was a life that I’d never had, but I kept trying to live it—a part of me hoping I’d wake up one day and it’d all be real. But I wasn’t going to wake up and magically forget about vampires and witches and dragons—cue Dorothy’s oh-fucking-my. It just felt like we were stalling for time. We didn't belong in this world anymore. Kids went to prom. We weren't kids. We were eighteen year old supernatural creatures with a penchant for assholery and nearly dying.

  Beth’s expression softened even further when instead of saying all of that, I just looked at her mutely and shook my head. Instead of pushing my so called accomplishments at me again, however, she switched topics and what came out of her mouth had my eyebrows shooting up towards the top of my forehead and my head reeling.

  “This is about the boys, then, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “The boys?” I repeated. I knew she was referring to Maverick and Torin, but it was a little difficult to think of them as boys. “W-what about them?”

  “They’re both waiting downstairs for you,” she confessed. “Looking quite dapper, if I do say so.” Her eyes glinted knowingly as she smirked and waited for me to say something.

  “Oh … um … they are?” I squeaked. Lame. So, totally lame. Sure, ask me to lie about the secret supernatural underworld and I could fib through my teeth, but place a well-meaning upper middle class mother in front of me questioning me about my dating life and I suddenly lost my ability to speak.

  She shook her head with a small chuckle. “I’m surprised you thought this would slip past my notice,” she commented lightly. “I am a mother after all. Those boys were at odds for years—Maverick would never say why, but after he and Maryanne broke up, I had a feeling. Then, all of a sudden, you come along and they’re friends again? Jon is a little slow on the uptake.” She leaned towards me as she whispered the last part conspiratorially.

  “He is?” Deer meet fucking headlights.

  Oh, this ought to be amusing.

  Okay, thanks, peanut gallery. You can shut all the way the fuck up now, I snipped silently as Satrina’s voice came through. Her resounding laughter was her only response. I closed my eyes and released a slow, calming breath.

  “Listen, um, Beth,” I started. “There’s nothing going on between me and—”

  “It’s so cute when you try to deny it,” she interrupted me.

  I groaned and covered my face with my hands. More laughter—from both her and Satrina. Someone, please stick me in a vat of burning oil, I begged the universe. It’d probably be less painful than admitting my … feelings. Even though I hadn’t said it, the last word left a sour taste in my mouth.

  Beth’s hands came over my shoulders as she hugged me. “I don’t know who you’re going to choose, but—”

  “Both,” I blurted. Her words stuttered to a stop and she pulled back, looking down at me. Her mouth hung slightly open. When she didn’t say anything—didn’t finish her sentence—I slowly extracted myself from her grip and took a step back. “I mean, we haven’t exactly talked at length, but there’s really no choice to be made.”

  She blinked at me. I waited. Still no response. That wasn’t good, was it? Then, finally, she spoke. “Condoms,” she said.

  “What?” I stared at her as she nodded slowly.

  “You’re going to need lots of condoms,” she repeated. “I am not ready to be a grandmother.” She whirled around and jerked the door open before stopping abruptly and turning back to me. “Don’t leave, I’ll be right back.”

  And she was. Beth disappeared out of the door only to come back a few minutes later with a box in hand. She looked at me as she closed the door at her back and then handed it over. It was a box of condoms.

  “Jesus Christ…” Was it ironic that for someone who was part vampire to say Jesus Christ so much? Probably. I couldn’t even explain to her how practically impossible it was for me to get pregnant now, or the fact that STDs were not going to be an issue anymore.

  “I can’t be a grandmother,” sh
e said in response. “I’m just not ready.”

  I set the box of condoms down and grabbed her hands. “You won’t be,” I assured her. “I promise.”

  Beth looked two seconds from losing her shit, but I supposed this was a much more reasonable response to me telling her that I was possibly going to be boning two guys for the rest of my unnaturally long life—not that she knew about the unnaturally long portion. “It’s going to be fine,” I said. “Nothing is going to happen to turn you into a grandmother.”

  She nodded and for the first time since I met her, I was pretty sure she was speechless. A mute Beth was kind of scary. I waited a moment to see if she would say anything and when she didn’t, I released her hands. “Well, um…” I cleared my throat. “I should probably get going. You said they’re waiting?” Even though it was a statement, the last bit came out as a question.

  Her head bobbed up and down. I took that to mean that it really was time for me to leave, but before I could make it to the door, she had the box of condoms on my bed ripped open and was turning me around, stuffing two into the cups of my bra inside the top of my dress. My face flamed hot.

  “Just in case,” she muttered.

  Satrina lost it. Her laughter followed me all the way down the stairs, through stilted pictures from Jon as he waited with a camera in the entryway, out the door, and in Torin’s car. As Maverick slid into the backseat, I yanked the condoms out of my bra and tossed them over my shoulder.

  He caught one and his eyes widened as he held it up. “Why the fuck are you pulling condoms from your dress?” he asked.

  I covered my face. “Don’t fucking ask.” I scrubbed my hands over my cheeks—thankful I didn’t need to go through the whole makeup routine and had only put on eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. I glanced over, feeling both Torin’s and Maverick’s gazes on me. “Just drive,” I grumbled.