by Susan Stec
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The Grateful Undead Series (Volume 3)
By
Susan Stec
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The Grateful Undead
They're So Vein
Gator Baitin'
Blood, Sweat and Demon Tears
(Volume 4) The Grateful Undead: Coffin Fit (2013)
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Acknowledgements:
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My Mother, who I will always remember being young, having a playful smile, and standing at the kitchen sink doing dishes while singing Over the Rainbow to me.
The women in my family, Jennifer, Resi, and JoAnn, who inspire me, love me, and accept me unconditionally.
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My On-line family at The Next Big Writer, for their constant support and guidance, and my very talented line editor: teri@editingfairy
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and places are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of the characters to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
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Published by Createspace and Susan Stec, author
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The Grateful Undead: Blood, Sweat and Demon Tears
Copyright © 2012 by Susan Stec
Ilustration copyright © 2012 Susan Stec
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Chapter One
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I yelped, wrapping my hands around my head, as I slid to the floor. A statue of the Blessed Virgin exploded against the kitchen cabinets over my head. Mary's head fell into my cleavage, while her body spun on the floor in front of my feet.
My mother picked a statue of Jesus off the mini-altar in the living room and strutted toward the kitchen. "Mary's had it now!" she said, shaking Jesus at me.
Stuffing Jesus into a drawer, she wedged a long knife through the handle, stabbing the tip into the wood under the Formica countertop.
"Did you see that?" Mom shouted at the headless body of the Virgin on the floor. "I'm holding your kid hostage. Now you can see how it feels. You get him back when I get my daughter back. I'm through fooling around!" She picked up the body of Mary and stuck out her other hand.
I reached into my bra, plucked out Mary's decapitated head, and handed it to my mother. My fangs dropped and I hissed as I crab-walked to the other side of the kitchen.
Mom popped the Virgin's head in her mouth, shoved the rest of the statue under her armpit, and pulled another drawer open. She took out a tube of Gorilla Glue, screwed off the top, squeezed out an ample amount on Mary's jagged neck and shoved the head on at an odd angle. She held it there, glaring at the drawer where the statue of Jesus was captive.
Showing a lot of fang herself, she turned back to me. "You better find a way to get your sister back, you—you damn, festering pimple on my left butt cheek!" Mom stomped back to the mini-altar, turned, and pointed Mary at me. "It's your fault JoAnn's in Hell with a demon in a red cowboy hat. Find a way to summon him, because I'm tired of getting on my goddamn knees every day!"
I kept my eyes on the statue as I got up off the floor. "First of all, Mother, I didn't banish her. JoAnn wouldn't put the dog down and back away from the sorcerer. It's not my fault she got sucked into the portal. I can't summon Raphael, and you know it. Our spell book was destroyed. And since you've bought at least fifty wannabes from Amazon.com and Walmart, you already know just any spell book won't work."
Six months ago, my mother and I, along with the rest of our immortal team, had an all-out war with a vampire named Erzsebet, and the sorcerer that controlled her. We summoned the demon, Raphael, and struck a bargain with him. He was supposed to take Erzsebet back to the Otherworld along with the sorcerer. He did his job, alright. Only problem was, the little shit took my sister and her zombie dog with them. And Jake, a shape-shifter dragon, spat fire all over the place, which burned the family summoning book that had been handed down for generations, along with our communications vehicle.
I walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch in front of the coffee table. A huge, stuffed gator held up the glass top with its tail and head. It glared up at me, jaws open, teeth frozen in a permanent snarl. I pulled my eyes away, settling them on my mother, as I took a couple of deep breaths. No sense pissing off the idiot. "Take the statue out of the drawer."
"Hell, no! He stays there until JoAnn gets back."
I tried not to laugh. "So you think holding a figurine of Jesus hostage is going to do it? It's only a statue, Mom, probably made in China, for heaven's sake."
"Well nothing else is working." Mom strutted around the room, arms flailing, finger pointing as she complained. "JoAnn may be the bane of our immortal existence, but she's your sister, and this family sticks together."
I shot her a raised eyebrow. JoAnn was the reason we were now doing time in the Critter Control department at BAMVC. She turned a raccoon into a vampoon during her first feeding attempt. Now we have a whole shitload of wildlife roaming around the state of Florida with fangs.
"I want to get her back, but it's not a top priority with Dorius," I informed her, "the fruit of your daughter's suckage is."
"JoAnn should be the top priority, not the elimination of immortal animals. Dorius is pissing me off. I shouldn't have to do this by myself. It's been six months. Six long and lonely months and I miss her. Don't you?"
My mother looks twenty-five; short, curly, blonde hair, and a body to die for, but she still has the mentality of an eighty-three-year-old, only with fangs.
We all look twenty-five—every non-estrogen-producing woman in my family—because after I was bitten, they all went ape shit. I was young again… they were… well, old. Everyone wanted a piece of the action except for Jeni, my older daughter. She is now the sole source of mortal reason—the only one that didn't care if her boobs stood at attention.
Mom scowled at me—dressed in bright pink Spandex and running shoes—her gold eyes hooded as she waited for a response.
"Yesss, I miss her," I lied, thinking Jesus couldn't rebuke me while in a hostage situation. "Marcus bought a spell book in Italy, and he's bringing it home today. Let's hope it works. It's a very rare edition, and it's taken months for him to find it."
Mom's shoulders slumped as she stared at the lopsided Virgin. Adjusting a framed picture of JoAnn, holding her toy poodle, Tootles, to her chest, she kissed her finger and put it on JoAnn's grinning face. Then she turned to the Virgin and mumbled, "Sorry about holding your kid for ransom, but drastic times call for drastic measures. I'm sure you understand."
She lit a candle and knelt down, bowing her head, as she began mumbling, her hands clasped together in front of her nose.
I sighed, grateful for the reprieve, and headed upstairs, hoping Marcus would get his sexy, little butt home soon.
Marcus is my blood mate. He and his brother, Dorius, are ancient immortals and head a cartel with two large businesses located in Miami and Italy. BAMVC dishes out bags of blood, trains rogue hunters, and mediate affairs in the immortal world. That's who I work for now—in the Critter Control department—thanks to JoAnn and her fangs.
I climbed the stairs, heading for my bedroom to take a shower before Marcus got home. I reache
d for the doorknob and froze. Grunting noises emanated from the other side of the door.
What the hell? I opened the door slowly and immediately regretted it.
Christopher was kneeling on my bed, butt-ass naked with long, shapely legs wrapped around his small waist, feet crossed at the ankles, bright red toenails wiggling at me.
"Okay, hold on a minute… ugh—workin' it—I'm almost there." Christopher's small fingers dug into the woman's tan thighs as his butt cheeks tightened with each thrust of his hips.
The woman was blindfolded and handcuffed to my headboard, tossing her blonde hair all over my frigging pillow.
Christopher's my team partner in the Critter Control department and the vampire that turned me. He's a one-hundred-year-old immortal in the body of a six-year-old, and he was frigging having sex in my bed! I shuddered—gagged—didn't know whether to run or yank his little ass off the woman. My stomach did uneasy flip-flops. This was so wrong on so many levels. But shit, the little guy had been jakin' for some action ever since I first met him. What to do? What to do?
A mental image of a little Vienna sausage, dipping into a bottomless pit of cocktail sauce flashed across the back of my eyelids. I couldn't help it—I knew the minute I did, it was so damn wrong—I burst out laughing.
Christopher shot me angry eyes.
My eyeballs almost fell out of my head—I slammed the door shut.
Sinking to the floor in the hall, I heard a buzzing noise followed by squeals of pleasure. I covered my ears, and burbles of manic giggles pushed past my lips.
The bedroom door opened about the time I was wiping tears from my eyes. Christopher waltzed into the hall with my flowered, Shabby Chic bed sheet wrapped around his chest, dragging about six feet of material behind him.
I took in a long breath and let it out in a vibrating-lips puff and shook my head at him. "You are in sooo much shit." I ducked my head and nervously giggled into my shoulder.
"Before you get your thong in a wad, I couldn't use my room. Your mother was down there praying." He stared at me with crystal blue eyes.
"That woman is a mortal," I said, pointing over his head in the general direction of my bed. "If Dorius finds out, he's gonna have your lascivious, little ass in a sling, mine right along with it. What if she tells someone? Huh? Did you think about that? You just better get her out of here before Marcus comes home."
Dorius is our boss—he heads up the rogue hunting teams. Nothing we do gets by him. Thank God he was in Miami working on a rogue issue at the moment.
"She won't remember a thing. I mind pushed her. She thinks I'm a six-foot-tall Adonis."
"Oh please." It was all I could do to keep from laughing again. "You didn't... surely, that wasn't... you didn't borrow Mom's... um, you know."
"Gimme-a-break!" Christopher said around his fangs. "I ordered it from ‘Strange vibrations dot com,’ not that my sex life is any of your business. Now go back downstairs. We're gonna take a shower. I'll have her out of here long before Marcus gets home."
Okay, so that nipped the giggles. "Screw that! You get her uncuffed, out of my bed and the hell out of here in five minutes. Where's her car? How did you find her? Christ, this is a frigging nightmare."
"Come on, I needed this." He toe-brushed the carpet. "We met in a chat room on the Net. Her car's behind the barn."
I almost choked on my next words. "You found her on the Internet? You gave her our address? What the hell?"
"Look, she won't remember any of this. I'll walk her through the garage and out to her car. All you have to do is keep your mother busy. It's all good. Just back off and let me finish what I started."
I so wanted to fang his cute, little neck. "You are never going to use my shower or my bedroom for your little den of iniquity again. Got it?"
Christopher turned towards the door and smiled back at me. "By the way, I have a new pet. Its name is Monty, and I think I've solved our immortal animal problems."
I couldn't open my mouth. I just stared at him.
"He's awesome."
My nostrils flared.
"He's in a cage in the garage."
"Okay I'll bite, what is he?"
"I'll show you later. But first, I want you to meet Betty. I took off her blindfold. Get up and peek in the room so I can introduce you."
I wracked my brain wondering if the little shit could piss me off any more than he just did. "I am not meeting anyone! Get her out of there," I ordered through clenched teeth.
"Aw, come on."
"Sugar, come unlock me. Ya promised me a shower," a twangy, sweet voice announced.
I ground my teeth.
"Pleeease," Christopher begged, hiking up the bed sheet as he reached for my hand.
I pushed his hand away, wondering what the hell I was thinking. "Make it quick."
"Susan, don't say anything stupid. I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Give it to me, damn it."
I got up. "I'll give you about fifteen minutes. Then you take her to her car, and when you get back, you and I are going to have a little talk about boundaries."
Christopher strutted into my room. I stopped at the door, peeked in and wiggled my fingers at the blonde woman on my bed.
"Betty, this is Susan, my partner at work. Susan, this is Betty."
"Nice ta meet ya," the woman said in all her naked glory.
"You too," I said, putting on a happy face.
"Sorry about the mix-up. Chris said it would be all right, but I heard ya arguin' in the hall. I hope…" the woman got out before Christopher made eye contact with her. She shook her head and her whole body went limp.
Christopher turned to me. "See? Like putty in my hands."
"Well, shower and then mold her ass on outta here."
"Will do, and don't go out in the garage until I get back," Christopher ordered, shoving me out of my own freaking bedroom. "Daddy's coming, baby!" he shouted, right before he slammed my door in my face.
I walked down the hall and hit the stairs, thinking he was out of his ever-lovin' mind if he thought I was waiting to see what was in the garage.
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Chapter Two
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I peeked into the living room. Mom was still kneeling over her altar, so I turned on my heel and headed down the second set of stairs toward the garage.
My hand on the doorknob, I stopped abruptly at the sound of a deep, throaty rumble outside. I did an about-face and headed for the front door, hoping it was Marcus.
When I stepped into the front yard, a 1970 AAR Barracuda, Pepto-Bismol pink with black trim, rumbled in the driveway, with Zaire behind the wheel, revving the gas pedal, a big smile on her face.
Resi opened the door and stepped out of the passenger seat, her pouty red lips grinning. She wore painted-on jeans and a lime green t-shirt with the words "the queerer the better" stretched across her bulbous breasts.
Resi is my younger daughter and Zaire is her blood mate. Both are immortal women. Both are amazingly beautiful, and already attract enough attention without the muscle car.
Resi shouted over the motor noises, "Whaddaya think, Mom?"
I shook my head, hands cuffing my ears.
Resi leaned into the car and yelled, "Okay, sweetie, shut hoochie-cuda down."
The engine made one last throaty rumble before the sound of birds filled the silence.
Mom walked out the front door. "What the heck was all the racket?" She stepped into the front yard, putting her hands on her hips and said, "Jesus, talk about drawing attention to yourselves. Dorius is not going to be happy with you cruising around in that fuel-injected, V-8-engined macho machine. And it's the same color as my dildo."
Zaire got out of the car and placed her shapely, chocolate-colored arms over the hood, her gray eyes sparkling. "It's hot—loud—and bitchin'! And anything with a penis stops to stare—F'n-A."
I rolled my eyes so far back in my head, I almost fell over. "Like either of you are interested in the masculine gender."
>
Zaire laughed. "Hey, just showin' em I got some gonads."
Resi's lips formed a little butt hole. "I wanted a really cute, 1985 Yugo GV hatchback. But Zaire always has to show some muscle."
Zaire glared at her. "A vamp wouldn't be caught dead in a friggin' commie Yugo."
"It had a rear window defroster!" Resi whined.
"Sh-yeah, right. To keep your hands warm when you have to push it."
Resi tossed a few air kisses in Zaire's direction. "Well, at least it's my favorite color, sweetie."
"Factory paint job, stuck with the damn color, but she sure hangs one under my ass." Zaire thumped the hood while walking around the car. She was wearing a pair of equally tight, black jeans with a black muscle shirt, accenting her well-toned arms. A big, silver belt buckle tossed the sun around as she walked over to us.
Mom gave the car one last look, and then walked toward the front door, shaking her head. "You should've bought a real dildo—that, you could've hung under your ass."
"I got all the body parts I need. Right, baby?" Zaire put an arm around Resi; heads together, they made their way toward the front door.
Mom was kneeling at the altar in front of JoAnn's picture when we all walked into the living room.
Resi hustled over and put her hand on my mother's shoulder. That's when she noticed the disheveled Blessed Virgin. "Who bit the head off Mary?" She glared at me.
I threw up my hands. "It wasn't me. Your Nanna hurled her at me right before she imprisoned Jesus in one of the kitchen drawers." I pointed to the knife-locked drawer. "Nanna isn't cutting him loose until Mary does something to get your Aunt JoAnn back."
Zaire laughed. "What the hell? Mary ain't gonna do shit for no vamp!"
Resi shot Zaire a frown. "Don't worry, Nan, as soon as Marcus gets here with the book, Mom can summon Raphael."
"Already told her that," I sang.
Resi gave the little woman in Spandex a hug as she admired her reflection in the sliding glass doors at the end of the picnic table. She fluffed her hair, ran a finger around her lipstick, and smiled down at Mom. "JoAnn will be here before we all go to bed in the morning."