Undead and Unwelcome u-8

by Maryjane Davidson

  In desperation I waited until she and the devil worshippers had left on another kill-​all-​vamps mission, then typed out a quick e-​mail to Betsy. And sent it. And sent it. And sent it. And sent it.

  Chapter 41

  Ah, there’s my boy.”

  Jessica and I stared at each other, then Sinclair. It was almost two o’clock in the morning; the place was crawling with werewolves. I was a little curious and was interested in going outside, but Jessica was understandably nervous and had practically barricaded herself in the downstairs library.

  And what a library! I swear, it was at least half the size of the New York City Public Library. Towering bookshelves, mahogany furniture, a row of computers . . . the only thing it was missing was a pair of stone lions.

  Maybe it seemed larger because it had been empty except for Jessica, me, and the baby. In fact, the mansion was practically deserted. But occasionally we could hear faint wolf howls from outside.

  And now here was Sinclair bustling in and actually holding his arms out for BabyJon, formerly his number one rival for my affection.

  “Your boy?” I asked, and Jessica raised her eyebrows.

  “You know,” Sinclair said, hovering over the baby and me, “it’s not too soon to start planning his education.”

  “He can’t even walk yet,” Jessica pointed out.

  “Oh, I get it. BabyJon is invulnerable to paranormal harm, so suddenly you’re taking interest in his well-​being.”

  “Elizabeth, you’ve got me all wrong.” Sinclair had the nerve to look and sound wounded. “As your husband, and his co-​guardian, it’s my responsibility to do right by this boy.”

  “Sure it is.” I handed BabyJon over and Sinclair was so startled he juggled the baby for a few seconds before holding him at arm’s length. “Okay, co-​guardian. He needs changing.”

  “Ah . . .”

  “Don’t even try to wiggle out of it,” I warned. “I’ve been dying to get out of here and walk around. Think you two can handle the kid for half an hour?”

  “One of us can,” Jessica said with a sly wink.

  “Something smells awful,” Sinclair moaned, and I practically sprinted out of the library before he could hear me laughing.

  Chapter 42

  It was a beautiful night—cool, with clear skies. The moon seemed to almost hang over Wyndham Manor, huge and white. There wasn’t a cloud anywhere, and the stars seemed brighter and closer than they ever had been.

  I started walking on the same path Lara and I had taken to the playground . . . Thanks to my vampire senses I could hear wolves running and walking and fucking all over the place. Two of them crossed my path, clearly playing Chase Me, but they moved so quickly I only got a blurred glimpse of tan fur and lots of teeth.

  I must be out of my mind.

  Well, that was always a possibility. But for once I wanted to take advantage of the fact that I, too, was fast and strong. I suppose if a few hundred of them ganged up on me I could be in serious trouble, but Jeannie had told me that werewolves didn’t go feral during the full moon. They retained their human personalities, they just felt things more keenly. Sadness became depression; anger became fury; happiness became ecstasy. But no matter how deeply they felt something, innocent bystanders didn’t get eaten.

  Not that I was exactly innocent, but I think you know what I’m getting at. And it made sense—they had been coexisting with humans for millennia. People were bound to notice if gobs of mutilated corpses were found after each full moon.

  I rounded the curve just in time to see the largest wolf I’d ever seen step out of the woods and block my path. Huge, with extremely light fur—almost white—and the biggest green eyes I’d ever seen. It was powerfully muscled and sat in the middle of the road, staring at me like a living statue.

  “Uh, hello.”

  Nothing. Of course—what had I expected?

  “I, uh, come in peace.”

  Then I realized where I’d seen those eyes before—Derik.

  Great. A werewolf who was pissed at me for getting his friend killed was now blocking my path. Ah, what a week!

  I was suddenly so thirsty I could hardly stand it, but realized that was the vampire equivalent of adrenaline. The fight or flight reflex. The last thing I planned to do was bite him. It would be a novel way to be disemboweled.

  “Good dog,” I said, wishing I had a Milk-​Bone. Or a case of them. “Uh—I wish Antonia was here with you right now. She was really happy when she was finally able to change.”

  Derik cocked his head, never blinking, and then—ulp—started walking toward me. Good-​bye, cruel world.

  He stopped at my feet and looked straight up at me. His head was bigger than a bowling ball. His paws were larger than my hand, even with all my fingers spread wide.

  Is he gonna kill me?

  Yup. He probably is.

  Except he wasn’t. He was just sitting there, staring up at me.

  And all at once I stopped being nervous for myself and put myself in his shoes. Paws. His friend had died half a continent away, and he couldn’t save her. Any more than I had been able to save her.

  I knelt on the path. We were so close, our eyes were no more than eight inches apart.

  “I am so sorry about Antonia,” I said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save her. But you go on and stay mad at me, Derik. It’s my fault she’s dead. If I had it to do over, I’d have taken the bullets myself.”

  Derik threw back his head and howled—shrieked—at the moon. I thought my head was going to split. I thought my heart was going to split.

  When I couldn’t stand it another second, I flung my arms around his thick, furry neck. And did the thing I swore I wouldn’t do again this week.

  I cried and cried.

  More wolves were padding out of the trees on either side of the road, one with Michael’s black fur and distinctive golden eyes. They formed a ring around us, and the air was split again and again by the silvery, haunting howls.

  Chapter 43

  I got back to our suite just before dawn. As I passed through the rooms, I checked on BabyJon—sound asleep. Thank God he hadn’t been hurt—could never be hurt, at least by werewolves and vampires. He was mine. I wanted him to live forever.

  Sinclair, with his usual brand of magic—or perhaps because he knew me so well—was waiting for me. I went to him without a word and hid my face against his shirt.

  “Elizabeth, my own, my dear, shhhhh.”

  “It’s all going wrong,” I cried, “and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “This is very unbecoming to the ball-​busting queen I married,” he said, trying to tease me into a smile.

  “But I want to fix it!”

  “You are young, my own.”

  I sniffled and looked up into his black eyes. “So?”

  “So some things—many things—cannot be fixed. These people will have to be satisfied with your sorrow. You cannot give them any more of yourself.”

  “No, but I can give you more of myself.”

  I went up on tiptoe to kiss him and his mouth pressed over mine, his tongue darting and stroking. I slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders as his fingers were busy with my blouse buttons.

  In another few moments we were naked and falling on the bed together. I was clutching at him, kissing him wildly, biting him, drawing blood even as he was drawing mine.

  His teeth slid into my jugular just as that other part of him slid between my legs. I crossed my ankles behind his back and returned every thrust, every nip, every kiss.

  I took everything. And gave back what I could.

  Sometimes, I figured, that’s all anyone can do, even if they are the queen of the vampires.

  He held me for a long time, after.

  Chapter 44

  It was the next afternoon, late—close to five o’clock. Sinclair was up and working on the laptop (all the shades were drawn, natch). I was moping around, wondering what more the werewolves wanted, wondering how much lo
nger I’d have to stay on the Cape to prevent a paranormal war.

  “That’s odd,” Sinclair said.

  “What now?”

  “You’ve got several e-​mails from Marc. Ah . . . thirty at least. And my damn cell phone still isn’t working,” he added in a mutter.

  “Torturing me with more bad grammar and acronyms,” I muttered. I was so not in the mood.

  There was a polite rap at the door, and when I opened it, Derik and Michael were there.

  “Okay to come in?” Derik asked, looking a little more like his old self.

  “Ask him,” I said nodding at Michael. “It’s his house.”

  “Yes.” Michael smiled at me. “We can come in.”

  Sinclair came into the sitting room, nodded politely and, seeming to know what was up, excused himself to give us a false sense of privacy (with his hearing, there was no privacy . . . not when we were only twenty feet away).

  “I, uh, wanted to apologize,” Derik said stiffly. “About before.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I do have to, not least because if I don’t, it’ll get me in trouble with my wife.”

  I laughed. “When is she due?”

  “Any second.”

  “Yeesh.” I’ve mentioned hugely pregnant women make me nervous, right? “Well, good luck with all of that.”

  “I wanted to tell you that the Council is satisfied with your testimony and thanks you for your cooperation.”

  I was silent. I wasn’t the smartest woman in the world, but even I could smell Derik all over that one. Sometime today, when he woke up with two legs instead of four, he had fixed things with the Council.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m glad you—I’m glad the Council is satisfied.”

  “On a more personal note,” Michael said, giving me the friendliest smile I’d ever seen, “my home and my lands are open to you and your husband anytime. I hope you’ll come to see us again soon.”

  “Oh. Well, thanks.” “Thanks” seemed big-​time inadequate, but it was all I could come up with.

  Poof! Just like that, our troubles were over. It was hard to believe that we could just pick up and leave without werewolf repercussions.

  Sinclair rapped politely, then came into the room and handed me a hard copy of one of Marc’s e-​mails. It was such a disaster it actually hurt my brain to look at it.

  Betsy!

  CBN grrrl Laura’s LHM and IDKWTD!!!!! Please you have to GYBBH ASAP! I am so not LOLing right now please please come!

  “It’s the same message over and over.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Who can make heads or tails of this? Maybe we should call him.”

  “I have been. Nobody answers . . . and I can’t reach Tina.”

  Huh. That was odd. Tina was available to Sinclair at all times.

  Derik peeked over my shoulder. “Holy crap. You’d better get going.”

  “What?” I looked at the gibberish. “You mean you actually understand this mess?”

  “You mean you don’t? ‘Come back now, girl. Laura’s lost her mind and I don’t know what to do. Please, you have to get your butt back home as soon as possible! I am so not laughing out loud right now. Please, please come!’ ”

  There was a short silence as Sinclair and I locked gazes. He looked as horrified as I felt.

  “Oh my God. Oh my—get Jessica. Get the baby. We have to go right now—oh my God, what’s she done? Did she lose it and kill Tina?”

  “You’ve got trouble at home,” Michael said, not wasting our time with silly questions. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “I’ll come with you, if you want,” Derik offered.

  “No, that’s—that’s okay. I mean, thanks and everything, but you stay here with your wife. Sinclair, Jessica’s got to call Cooper and get the plane ready.” I was dashing around the room, scooping up clothes and flinging them in the general direction of one of the suitcases.

  “I’ve got some people at the airport,” Michael said. “I’ll call ahead and make sure you’re not unnecessarily delayed.”

  “Great. That’s great. Okay, let’s—damn! I almost forgot.”

  “Forgot what?”

  “Your mom says not to name your daughter after her.”

  “My—what?”

  “Your mom.”

  “My mom’s been dead for twenty—”

  “I know. But that doesn’t change the fact that she doesn’t want another Theodocia running around in the world.”

  That was how we left Antonia’s best friend and the Pack leader: amazed and staring after us.

  Chapter 45

  I wasn’t sure how Cooper had managed to shave thirty-​five minutes off our flight time, and I didn’t want to know. Sinclair’s car was waiting on the tarmac for us when we landed, and the four of us piled in and took off.

  Sinclair made that car move, getting us to the mansion in record time. Before we could even get to the front door, it was yanked open and Marc was framed in the doorway.

  “It’s about damned time!”

  “If you wrote your emergency messages in English, we would have been back three days ago. Where’s Laura? Where’s Tina? What’s going on?”

  “I haven’t seen Tina in days. I think Laura might have done something.”

  We followed him through the house. “What’s she been doing?”

  “You might as well see for yourself. Because even I don’t believe it, and I’ve seen it.”

  He stiff-​armed the door to the parlor, which swung open.

  Sinclair, Jessica, and I stared at the goings-​on.

  He was right. I didn’t believe it.

  Chapter 46

  The parlor was packed with people in dark hooded robes. Laura was standing at the front of the room, holding a clipboard.

  “Okay, then after you take care of the two vampires who got away last night, I need some of you back here. I was able to intercept a call to the house—I guess some vampires from Maine are on their way to pay tribute.” Laura shook her head. “Blasphemy. Then we’ll—”

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Laura glanced up, startled, and instead of looking ashamed or scared or sad, she looked delighted. “Betsy! Thank goodness you’re back. I’ve got so much to tell you.”

  “Why,” I demanded, “are you meeting with monks in our house in the middle of the night?”

  “Those aren’t monks,” Marc sighed. “They’re devil worshippers.”

  “Devil—” I suddenly realized what was going on. They were confusing Laura with her mother. But why would Laura have anything to do with—

  “Laura,” Sinclair said in a calm tone that didn’t fool me at all, “where is Tina?”

  “Oh, I had to get her out of the way,” Laura said with Bambi-​like sincerity. “She would have tried to stop me. But I’m being rude. Everybody, this is my sister, Betsy, and her husband, Sin—”

  “We don’t need intros!” I snapped. “We need to find out where Tina is.” Not to mention when you lost your mind.

  “I’m in a meeting right now,” she said in a scolding mommy voice. “I don’t—”

  I hauled one of the robed morons to his—his? yep, it was a guy—feet and tossed him away. He bounced off the wall like he was a SuperBall, hands clapped to his face as his nose gushed blood.

  “I want you athholth out of my houth!”

  “Protect the Beloved of the Morningstar!” some other hooded freak yelled, and just like that, I had my hands full.

  Chapter 47

  Dude,

  Thank God, thank God, thank God, Betsy finally came home and she brought the cavalry. I was torn between the urge to strangle her because she took so long, and hugging her because I was so relieved.

  Even better, they caught Laura practically red-​handed, which was even better, because it saved a lot of time.

  Unfortunately, Laura not only wasn’t sorry, she wasn’t even defensive. She seemed proud and happy that she had found a way
to “help” Betsy, and the more she talked about the vampires she and her minions had killed, the more pissed Betsy and Sinclair got.

  I’ve never been particularly scared of Betsy, but Sinclair was a whole different story. Even when he was pleasant, he could be sort of terrifying. And he wasn’t being pleasant now.

  I managed to haul Jessica aside and told her to get her ass out of here and take the baby with her—something fairly awful was about to happen, and I didn’t want either of them to get hurt.

  Jessica must have believed me, because she didn’t make so much as a token protest. Just picked up the diaper bag, the baby in the car seat, and left.

  Which left Laura, the devil worshippers, me, Betsy, and Sinclair. That’s when things started to get a little on the violent side.

  When Betsy shoved one of the devil worshippers she gave him a bloody nose, so her fangs popped (you can always tell—she lisps, which is hilarious under most circumstances). And of course Laura felt obliged to protect her minion. Which is when the rest of them jumped us.

  I still couldn’t believe how quickly things had gone to shit. I should never have suggested to Laura that she find ways to work with the misguided morons who kept showing up.

  Everything was my fault.

  Chapter 48

  I had just enough time to grab Marc by the collar, ignore his surprised squawk, and bundle him into the closest closet. The poor guy looked ghastly—pale, with dark circles under his eyes and at least three days of stubble. Clearly he’d been under stress during our little sojourn to the Cape. And no wonder, with the devil’s daughter cracking up right under his nose.

  As usual, things were happening so quickly I was having trouble keeping up. Even as a bunch of jerks in hoods rushed me, Sinclair was there, knocking and shoving and punching them out of the way.