Blood, Sweat and Demon Tears (The Grateful Undead series Book 3)

by Susan Stec

  Not taking the time to bother with makeup, Zaire rubbed some Oil of Olay on her face, and sprayed deodorant on her armpits. She picked up her dirty workout clothes, stuffed them into a hamper by the sink, and giving it a swift kick to close the lid, headed for her duffel bag.

  After pulling on a pair of Levis and a white wife-beater, she slid her bare feet into a pair of clunky, black boots and stomped out the door. Two minutes later, she burst into Interrogation Room C.

  Dorius sat in a pretentiously oversized black-leather chair, drumming well-manicured fingernails on a long silver table in front of him. "What part of 'be there when I get there' do you not understand?"

  "I was naked when you called. I friggin' stepped out of the shower to answer the goddamned phone. So don't give me no shit." Her eyes played over the sparse room; white walls, white border trim, and a gray granite floor with an inconspicuous, round metal drain, slap-dab in the middle. Nothing on the walls except bars to dress the otherwise barren window. The only furniture: a shiny table, five metal chairs and the leather one Dorius was currently sitting in.

  Dorius cleared his throat and dramatically eyed his watch. "Seven minutes—not bad for a woman. I take it you don't do makeup?"

  "Depends on who I'm tryin' to impress," Zaire said, dragging out a chair at the other end of the table and flopping down on it.

  Dorius moved a manila folder to the side of the table and ran his fingers through his long, black hair, before adjusting the leather bolo at his neck. He locked his fingers together, placed them on the table, and bounced his pinky ring against the metal like a metronome in quarter-time as he gave her orders. "I want you to be civil to Warren. Take it to the gym later, if you wish, but this meeting is all about Betty. I won't tolerate your antics. If you handle yourself in a professional manner today—educate Betty competently in the days to come—you will find yourself where you wish to be much more quickly. Do I make myself clear?"

  Before Zaire could answer, there was a knock on the door.

  "Enter," Dorius said as he sat up in the chair, pulling a pen from a pocket on the inside of his black suit jacket. He dragged the folder closer, laying the pen gently on top.

  Warren walked in and Zaire smiled; her eyes locking onto the blood-stained collar of his red-checked-flannel shirt. A small blonde woman in cuffs was pushed in the door by a burly immortal with a spiky, red flat-top and stormy, gray eyes. He was dressed in a tight, navy-blue t-shirt and a pair of equally tight, blood-splattered jeans.

  Zaire's smile spread wider and she nodded approvingly at Betty, who grinned back.

  "You want I should stay?" the burly guy asked Warren.

  Dorius answered, "That's not necessary, Peter. But I would ask that you stand outside the door and await further instructions." His eyes locked on Betty.

  Peter nodded as he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

  "Take the cuffs off her," Dorius ordered, giving Warren a nod, and Betty a smile.

  Warren tossed his weight from one foot to the other. "I don't know if that's a good idea, boss. The little filly ain't properly broken in yet."

  Zaire bit her lower lip, a low growl brewing in her throat.

  "Screw you, ya bastard," Betty spat as she gave Warren a swift kick in the shin that had him on his ass in a heartbeat. She leaned over him. "Ain't no one breakin' in nothin', either. Anyone breakin' anything, it's gonna be me." Betty's eyes whipped around the room. She shook her head and then rubbed her ear on her shoulder. "What the hell?"

  Warren stood up, grabbed Betty by the arm, and shoved her into a chair opposite Zaire, his face inches from hers. "I'll tell you what the hell!" he yelled, fangs hanging, spittle flying. "You do that again, and I cuff your goddamned ass to that fuckin' chair. So don't move."

  Zaire slapped the table loud enough to get Warren's attention. Splaying her hands across the table, she leaned forward. In a deadly voice, barely above a whisper, she said, "She's partnering up with me, and no partner of mine gets cuffed to a fucking chair." She turned to Dorius who couldn't seem to take his eyes off Betty, a broad smile dressing out his lips. Her head pivoted back to Warren. "He told you to take the friggin' things off. You deaf or what?"

  Betty began to whimper, rubbing her ear on her shoulder again.

  "You okay?" Zaire asked.

  "Do I look okay?" Betty said, closing her eyes tightly and shaking her head harder. "Something's crawlin' around inside my damn head!"

  Zaire leapt over the table, rolled off the other side, and kneeled in front of Betty.

  "What kind of game you playin' now?" Warren asked Betty.

  Zaire shot him a look that made his jaw tighten. She gently grabbed Betty's chin and said, "Open your eyes."

  Through half-lidded eyes, Betty peeked at her.

  Zaire stared into Betty's eyes; a look of deep concentration on her face. After a few seconds, she tilted her head slowly toward Dorius. "I can't get in—it's you, right? Shit! This can't be happenin', man! Not with your friggin' track record."

  Dorius sensually licked his lips, eyes still locked on Betty. "Remove the cuffs, Warren. Betty and I are going to have a calm discussion. Right Betty?"

  "Son-of-a-bitch!" Zaire spat, shot up, and began pacing. "This changes everything, damn it!

  Betty's eyes jumped from Zaire to Warren. His chin was hanging inches from his chest.

  "Are you messin' with me?" Betty bolted out of the chair and got right in Dorius' face.

  Warren leapt for her—Dorius put up his palm—Warren stopped dead in his tracks.

  "Sit down, Betty. Warren, remove the cuffs," Dorius said, still smiling. "And then you can leave."

  Warren said, "But, she's–"

  "Now!" Dorius shouted.

  Warren removed the cuffs and reluctantly left the room.

  Zaire glared at Dorius. "Tell her."

  Dorius didn't take his eyes off Betty. "Sit down, Elizabeth, and I will explain."

  "The name's Betty." She stood her ground.

  "I prefer your birth name, Elizabeth O' Dougherty, and I would be willing to bet, that's not your natural hair color, either. Red?"

  Zaire smacked her hip and let out a frustrated sigh. "Fuck me! She is a possible blood mate."

  Betty backed up a few steps. "I don't like the sound of that."

  "You will, I assure you. Take a seat, Elizabeth," Dorius said politely. "Zaire, you step outside and wait with the others."

  "No friggin' way!" Zaire shouted.

  "She leaves—I leave!" Betty yelled, her fangs descending.

  A laugh burbled in Zaire's throat.

  "Oh, for the love of blood. Both of you take a seat, right now." Dorius picked up the file on the table, slammed it down in front of him again, and slapped it open. He raised his eyes to the immortals. "Sit!"

  Betty rammed her body into a chair and Zaire took the one next to her.

  "We will not be addressing the blood mate issue, Elizabeth, until we can discuss it alone." His eyes dared Zaire to open her mouth. When she didn't, he went on, "Let's talk about how you became immortal."

  Betty's eyes questioned Zaire.

  "He totes the note. I'd answer him truthfully," Zaire instructed.

  Dorius gave Zaire an approving smile.

  Betty put her hands on the table, palms down, and gave Dorius her full attention. "Truth is, I dunno fer sure."

  "Did Christopher bite you, Elizabeth?"

  "Okay, first off, I hate that damn name, so if ya want me ta stay nice, call me Betty. Got it?"

  Zaire curled her lips over her teeth and laughed with her eyes.

  Dorius' nostrils flared, and cold as ice, he addressed Betty. "One must learn to choose one's battles, Elizabeth."

  "That 'one must' shit," she made little quotation marks with her fingers, "does it apply ta you, too?"

  Zaire turned completely around in her chair and dropped her head to her knees.

  With an angry look in Zaire's direction, Dorius hissed, "Yesssssssss… Betty. Now answer the damn que
stion."

  Betty sucked in half the air in the room through her nostrils before she answered. "I don't think he bit me, but hell, I don't even remember how I got outside. And in the bedroom, I was so caught up in the sex, that…"

  "I'm not interested in the 'sex'." He made little quotation marks with his fingers. "So let's move to the first thing you remember at the barn with the raccoon."

  Zaire's back bounced up and down.

  Dorius slammed his hand on the table. "Zaire, if you are unable to assist in the interrogation, I'm sure Dennis has some filing you can do."

  Dennis was Dorius' secretary; a very colorful immortal. Zaire shot up in her chair, looking like she just figured out who pushed the buttons at BAMVC. "We both know what I'm here for, and it sure as hell isn't filing," she said with a fair share of anger in her voice.

  Dorius dramatically picked up his pen and sneered at Zaire. "Then put your face in the conversation and start acting like it. Shall we continue?" When Zaire didn't answer, he turned a store-bought smile in Betty's direction. "Alright, since you're either unwilling to answer, or don't remember, I'll get the information another way."

  Betty's hands flew to her head and she cupped her ears.

  Dorius began to write in the folder.

  Zaire pulled Betty's hands from her ears. "Sucks, don't it? You'll get used to it. My mate is always in my friggin' head." She pointed a finger at Dorius. "And if he doesn't lay it all out on the table, I will."

  Dorius extricated his eyes from the folder. "That will be enough, Zaire. I'll explain the benefits of a blood mate, my way. I'll only ask you one time not to interfere, and I'll handle the infraction harshly if you do. Do you understand?"

  "What if I'd rather hear her angle on this blood-shit?" Betty defiantly asked.

  No one said a word for a long, heavy minute.

  Dorius cleared his throat. "I seem to have forgotten that you're an individual, not anyone's mate at the moment, and you certainly can talk to whomever you wish, Eliz… Betty. I rescind the threat I made to Zaire and ask only that you give me a chance to explain the benefits as well."

  "I'll hear what she has ta say," Betty said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder, "an' then I'll get back with ya."

  ~~~~

  Chapter Sixteen

  ~~~~

  I hit the stairs, taking them two at a time, and burst through my bedroom door. I heard water running, bolted into the bathroom and pulled open the shower door. "Lily is missing!" I yelled, shaking the pink phone at Marcus.

  He turned to face me and for a minute, I forgot what I was doing there. His body glistened with little streams of water running over his skin, his hair tight against his scalp, and his eyes went from sky blue to black instantly.

  "What do you mean, she's missing?"

  I licked my lips, my eyes trailing a path of dark ringlets straight to a nest of hair, supporting the body part I'd so much love to bring to life right now. I worked really hard at dragging my eyes back up to his, as I waved the phone around dramatically, and tried to answer. "Um, well, she's missing, and…" I took a deep breath, shaking the phone at Marcus, and tried to start over. "My sister says Lily ran…"

  "Susan! I can see his penis!" JoAnn's sharp voice snapped my mouth shut. I jerked the phone to my face and stared at my sister's livid expression. "Sorry, Marcus is… and I had to… and I forgot about..."

  "I know exactly what Marcus is doing every time I call—you just added another lascivious visual to the ones I already get every time I close my eyes—thank you so very much! Why do you always seem to parade his flawless body in front of the camera lens? Just because I'm living with a demon and his… well, you know... Darn it, Susan! Why does it always have to be about how much bigger… I mean… better… you have it, than me?"

  Marcus burst out laughing, but nipped it when I glared at him, and promptly turned off the water, reaching for a towel. "Alright ladies, this is becoming a discussion I wish to have no part of. Can we get back to Lily's disappearance?"

  "It's Lilith! Lilith! Darn it, will one of you get it right, just once?!" JoAnn yelled.

  I still had the phone in my face when Marcus stepped out of the shower, the towel hugging his hips. I so wanted to dump my sister along with the damn phone into the toilet, and snatch the towel off. That thought surely brought me another step closer to Hell.

  "Susan, you're drooling! Give Marcus the phone!"

  I slapped the phone shut as if it were going to bite me… or Marcus.

  Marcus shot me a grin. I keep forgetting he can read my mind.

  Somewhere over the…

  I whipped open the phone. "Sorry! I just reacted—didn't think—and won't the phone burn him?" I squeaked.

  JoAnn shook her head from side-to-side. "No. I told Raphael to leave off that option this time. Hand it to Marcus, I'm sure he won't aim it at his private parts."

  I shoved the cell at Marcus. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he brought it up to his face and smiled. "Hello, JoAnn. What has happened to Lilith?"

  I scooched around him and peered over his arm at JoAnn's blushing face on the screen.

  "Okay," JoAnn said, averting her eyes, her face getting redder, "this is going to take a minute to explain and since Raphael is out looking for Lilith, I have a few of them to spare." She allowed a swift glance in his direction. "Thanks for properly using her name, by the way."

  "Take your time, and start at the beginning," Marcus said. He leaned up against the door frame between the vanity and the shower, looking like he was really enjoying her embarrassment. "I want to know what led up to her disappearance."

  I wanted to slap him.

  JoAnn continued, batting her lashes, the color fanning out over her cheeks, "Well, you know how much time he was spending with her away from the house, supposedly, getting ready for the coronation, right?"

  "Yes, you mentioned the training sessions to prepare her," Marcus patiently answered with a cute little grin on his face. I dug my fingernails into his skin. His smile broadened.

  "Well, that's not all. She has to be an age that divides or multiplies by six, with some rule about three, or something, to accept the award, and they've been trying to age her. Eighteen would work, or thirty-six, or six hundred and sixty-six years old. That's what that evil woman has really been doing! They came home yesterday and she looked like she’d gotten at least three years older. She looked like a six-year-old!"

  "How the hell could they do that?" I asked.

  "Susan, don't interrupt me! I forget where I was!"

  Marcus gave me "Behave yourself" eyes, then spoke into the Hell phone. "She looked like a six year old," he prompted.

  "Oh yeah, I don't know how they did it, but his boss is a powerful demon and that bad, bad woman is… Never mind that, the reason Lilith left was because I got so mad at Raphael. I cried and yelled and just got all crazy. I didn't want my baby to get any older! Raphael said the older she is, the more respect she will get after…" JoAnn burst into sobs and it took a minute for her to continue. "I will not be the mother of a six-hundred-and-sixty-six-year-old demon! And what about the darn dress? I finished it, and now it's too small!"

  Just like my sister to worry about a damn dress when her kid had not only gotten older, but was missing. "Screw the damn dress—do you have any idea where she could go? Is there someplace she…"

  "Shut up! And it took me days to make that dress. You need to come up here right now and help me find her. I can't do this alone!" JoAnn cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  "It's down there, and what the hell do you expect me to do when I get down there? Even if we find her, Raphael will–"

  "You are not going anywhere," Marcus said, giving me a stern look. "We don't need to find Lilith—you need to summon her here."

  I looked at him as if he were crazy. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "You can summon her just like you do Raphael, and…"

  "And you want to tell me why you didn't come up with that option from
the beginning?" I asked, half my mind taking in my sister's sobs.

  "I didn't think it would be advantageous for the child at the time, because you could not bring her mother here. JoAnn is not a demon. The rules of random summoning do not apply to her. But Lilith is, and the right of summoning does apply to a demon, no matter the age."

  We both stared at the phone.

  JoAnn wiped her nose with a red cloth and took a deep breath. "I don't have a choice at this point, do I?" When we didn't answer, she continued. "You can summon her if you promise not to leave me here to rot alone. I want to come home right away. I want to celebrate the holidays with you guys. I tried to get all festive—decorate a tree—but Raphael…Well, look."

  The room flashed across the screen and settled at the bottom of a large, gnarly tree decorated with red and gold bulbs, ribbons, and brightly wrapped presents beneath. As she traveled the lens up the almost leaf-stripped tree, the first thing I noticed was, instead of candy canes, there was what looked like bones hanging among the decorations. Then the crowning glory came into view. The large head of a ram sat atop, its maw holding an angel with the Star of David in her hands. Blood red tinsel hung from its teeth, flickering as it caught the light, adding to the garishly macabre effect.

  Marcus pushed his thoughts into my head, Darling, now would not be the time to discuss Christianity in regards to our immortal existence, nor the disregard for the faith in the blatant display of the atrocity before you. Tell your sister exactly what she wants to hear.

  I sucked in a breath, leaned toward the phone, and coaxed, "Sweetie, put your face back in the screen."

  I had a wave of lightheadedness as the phone whipped back around. "He won't let me take it down. I think it's punishment for wanting to put up a tree in the first place."

  I smiled weakly and winged it. "Let's not worry about the tree. First we get Lilith here, then you, and I promise, I'll make sure she's well taken care of—she will not leave my side for a minute. I mean, what are sisters for? And it'll be much easier to get you back if you're alone. All you have to do is get away from Raphael for a few minutes, call us, and I'll come running. And if you can't, I'll bring every goddamned rogue hunter at BAMVC along with me when I come to get you. Alright?"