Dead Sexy

by Tate Hallaway

  "It's not that…" I started, but he cut me off by turning to pierce me with a hot glare.

  "How long have you kept him a secret from me?"

  Parrish had come stumbling back to my apartment two nights after Sebastian had left him for dead. I took him in. I tended his wounds. I even found a willing ghoul to offer some, shall we say, transfusions. Sebastian wouldn't understand any of it.

  And, really, why should he? He was right. There was a lot of unfinished business, and most of it was wrapped up in with letting go of who I used to be in Minneapolis before Lilith, the Vatican agents, and all this.

  My feelings for Parrish were complicated by what happened that Halloween night. I'd broken up with Parrish the night before. I'd had it with the ghouls, not knowing where he was or what he was doing most nights… and, to be perfectly honest, Parrish was difficult to love. He was more than a little self-centered and had really embraced a kind of rock-and-roll lifestyle I wasn't terribly comfortable with.

  Yet, he was the first person I thought of when I found myself standing in the middle of a circle of blood and death.

  Not only did he come running when I needed him, but he asked no questions, expected nothing.

  That kind of heroism was hard to come by in a man. Hell, that was hard to come by in anyone.

  "That's what I thought," Sebastian said when I didn't respond. "He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?"

  The worst part of this conversation was that Sebastian had yet to raise his voice. He didn't even sound angry, only far too calm.

  I would have preferred yelling, honestly.

  Sebastian took in a long, steady breath. "You should go back in there. I'm sure you two have things to work out."

  I didn't understand. What did that mean? "What about you?"

  "I'll be in when the coffee's done. Does he take cream?"

  "I have no idea. He can't usually drink."

  Sebastian's mouth twitched into a smug smile. "Right."

  I hesitated in the doorway. Sebastian, meanwhile, had turned his attention back to the coffee. I knew he was hurt, and this cold calmness frightened me. I desperately wanted to know how much damage I'd caused. "Sebastian," I said, putting a hand lightly on his shoulder. "This isn't what you think. Parrish and I aren't lovers."

  "I never thought that." His voice remained even and measured, and he never turned to look at me.

  "I only asked him to come because he knew the old me, you know?" I let my hand slip off.

  "Of course."

  "I didn't mean to hurt you," I said.

  "He's waiting for you, Garnet."

  I didn't know what to make of Sebastian's calm insistence, so even though I knew I probably shouldn't, I went back into the living room.

  Parrish pretended to admire a statue of Kali that sat on a brick-and-board bookshelf near the door. When he saw me come in, he quickly replaced it. "I wish you would have told me you were planning on having a guest," Parrish said teasingly.

  "So you could sharpen your fangs? I don't think so."

  "Seriously, Garnet, I thought the idea was to keep lover boy in the dark."

  Oh, could you be any louder with that little comment, Parrish? I walked over and stomped my bare foot onto his boots, probably hurting myself much more than him in the process. "Knock it off," I whispered.

  A wolfish grin that spread across Parrish's face. "He's jealous."

  He's hurt, I thought but didn't dare say. Parrish had no qualms about throwing something like that into Sebastian's face. "Look, I think we should talk later."

  "As you wish." Parrish sketched a courtly bow and leaned over to give me a peck on the forehead.

  Before he could move away, I caught his lapel and pulled him closer. "Come back before you turn in," I whispered in his ear.

  He nodded and left.

  I closed the door behind him. When I turned around, Sebastian stood in the doorway. The dark look in his eyes told me he'd witnessed our final exchange.

  "He's leaving." Sebastian said through lips so tight they made the question into a statement.

  "Uh, yeah. It's for the best, don't you think?"

  Sebastian nodded slowly. "I see."

  I didn't. I waited for him to elaborate. The way the muscles of his jaw worked, I knew something was going to be forthcoming soon.

  "You never are going to really let me in, are you?" Sebastian asked. His tone was still cold and measured. I didn't like it one bit.

  "Into what?"

  "You can't even talk to him with me in the room, yet you expect me to believe you're not having some kind of secret love affair."

  "We're not!" I blurted so forcefully that I'm sure I seemed guilty. I hated how defensive I sounded, especially since Sebastian was still so cool and collected.

  "So, you're denying you're still in love with Parrish?"

  I shouldn't have hesitated, but I did. Thing is, I was never sure I ever, 100 percent loved Parrish. When I considered how selflessly he came rushing to my aid, sometimes I felt I ought to have loved him a lot more than I did. Weirdly, I wanted to love Parrish, because there was so damn much about him that I liked, but how did I explain all this to Sebastian when I could barely articulate it to myself? Anyway, it hardly mattered. That ten-second delay had sunk me, and I knew it. So I changed tactics. "He's not my boyfriend, you are."

  "For the moment that's true."

  That was certainly an ominous statement made more so since I was still the only one to have raised my voice. "I know I should have told you the moment Parrish came looking for my help, but, Great Goddess, Sebastian. You tried to kill him. I thought maybe you'd do it again if you knew he was in town."

  "You seriously thought I wouldn't know about all the other vampires operating in a city the size of Madison?"

  "Did you?"

  "I knew he was still around. He's got a bit of a reputation."

  You could say that again. Lately, in order to pay the bills, Parrish had taken up the dubious profession of biter for hire. Apparently—and I so didn't want to know any more about this—there was a large contingent of Goth types who so desperately craved the experience of a real vampire bite that they were willing to pay Parrish ungodly amounts of cash for it. The good news was Parrish was well compensated; the bad was that he was a vampire equivalent of a gigolo.

  Parrish kept telling me this particular line of work was temporary. He found it distasteful, pun intended no doubt, and he still considered himself a professional thief. Parrish had made his living as a highwayman when such things as stagecoaches and king's highways still existed. Now, he robbed banks, but in order to do that successfully, he always told me, the key was not to do it very often. Thus, "blood whoring," as he called it, to fill the gaps.

  It seemed sleazy and dangerous to me, but when I asked Parrish about it he always shrugged it off, saying that he might as well get paid for doing something he had to do anyway.

  "None of that really matters," Sebastian said. "I'm not actually terribly surprised you took him in. I'm not even all that bothered by the fact that you still care for him. What I'm upset about is that you lied to me about it. You kept him a secret for months."

  I didn't know what to say to that. I felt miserable.

  Sebastian nodded at my silence. "And I might even have been okay with that, but I come in from the kitchen to find out that you fully intend to continue with the evasion and secret keeping. I'd hoped that somehow, despite how awkward it might have been, you could have included me in your little tête-à-tête about your current situation with the FBI. You don't seem to trust me with it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "How could we have been going out all this time and you never managed to mention your murderous run-in with the Vatican Witch hunters?"

  "It never came up," I said, though somehow when the words escaped my mouth the statement managed to sound more like a question. "I wanted to tell you." Actually, that was a lie. I preferred not to think about what happened last Halloween. The memor
y was still too painful. "I was waiting for the right time."

  Sebastian watched me intently with the kind of concentration usually reserved for someone speaking English with a thick, alien accent. "Yet William knew."

  "Uh. Yeah. I ended up telling him and Izzy when the Vatican was after us."

  "Izzy too."

  "Well, Sebastian, we were kind of busy with our own problems, remember? Besides, you'd gotten staked to the wall." I pointed to where the stub of a longbow arrow stuck out of my solid oak window frame. I'd since varnished it to match and hung a spider plant from it. "And, then there was the Feather fiasco where we weren't exactly talking." He'd ended up lunching on William's then girlfriend, freaking everyone out, including me. "And, then we were fighting for our lives, and… Well, when it was all over, I was just as happy not to bring it up again, you know?"

  "No, I don't know. I'm having a real problem with this, Garnet. I don't understand how you failed to share what I can only imagine must have been a denning moment for you."

  I broke. "I didn't fail to share anything; I didn't want you to know," I yelled. "What's so fucking wrong about not wanting my boyfriend to think of me as a cold-blooded killer?"

  "Your argument would be more convincing if everyone else in town didn't seem to know."

  "They're my friends, not my lover. That's different."

  "Yes," he said quietly. "I think that's the problem."

  I frowned at him. I felt all mixed-up. "Sebastian, you're more than a friend. That's why I didn't want to tell you. I want you to like me."

  "Like who? The real you, or the 'you' you present me with? That's what you're asking me to do. Love your lies."

  "Lies? That's a little harsh, isn't it?"

  "Is it? If I hadn't come over, what would you have told me you did tonight when I asked? Would you have mentioned Parrish or would you have made something up?"

  He knew the answer and so did I.

  "So," he continued, despite my shut-up-about-it glare. "This 'right time' to tell me about the Vatican assassins came and went, didn't it? You told me something else. Some lie."

  "Get over yourself, Sebastian," I snapped. "This is not about keeping things from you. This is about a past I don't really like to talk about, okay?" Despite my best efforts, I heard my voice snag. I clenched my teeth. I didn't want to cry right now, I wanted to make my point. "Not telling isn't the same as lying."

  "I suppose you're right," he said, conceding the point calmly, damn him. "But not telling and lying both keep me at arm's length, don't they? That's what I'm hurt about. It makes me wonder what you think of me. Do you imagine me some kind of delicate flower that will wilt at the suggestion of bloodshed? You do remember I'm a vampire? I have a little experience with what might lead someone to kill."

  Yes, but did he? It was different, murder and feeding. I knew Sebastian would kill to defend himself; he'd done it when the Vatican attacked us. He hated Parrish enough to go after him, but he'd left him alive. Sebastian lived in a different world than Parrish—one filled with sunshine and jobs and ways to make a living that didn't involve breaking the law.

  Sebastian must have read some of my thoughts in my expression. His face darkened. "Oh, I see. Mr. Stagecoach Robber is the only one who really understands what you're going through because of his criminal past, eh?"

  "No, because he was there," I blurted out before I considered the consequences.

  Sebastian's jaw twitched, and the passion drained from his expression. "I can hardly compete with a little shared murder, can I?"

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  Sebastian grabbed his jacket from where it lay strewn across the arm of my couch. He shrugged into it. Over his shoulder he added, "It means, Garnet, that you and I are officially on a break. Your coffee is ready."

  Sebastian stalked past me toward the door. "Oh, and when you see Parrish later be sure to tell him that if he's sleeping near here I will find his lair and destroy him."

  I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him around to face me. "Don't you dare! You so much as touch a hair on his head we're far more than on a break, Sebastian Von Traum, we're over."

  Though he somehow kept his expression cool, his eyes flashed. "I'll be honest with you, Garnet," he said evenly. "The truth is, despite what I just said, I could never do permanent damage to anyone you care about that much, because I care about you that much."

  Well, that certainly derailed my argument. I decided I hated fighting with someone who'd clearly had several hundred years to perfect the art of the parting zinger. My only response was, "Yeah, well. Good."

  "Yes, but I've proved your point, haven't I?" Sebastian said. "Your beloved Parrish wouldn't hesitate. I'm clearly not vamp enough for you."

  I could hear the mixture of self-loathing and unadulterated jealousy in Sebastian's voice. "That's not true!"

  "Unfortunately, Garnet, I now know you're a good liar."

  He didn't let me counter that. He disappeared down the stairs to the front door. My mouth hung open as I stared at the cracked plaster and dingy wainscoting of the empty steps.

  Barney bonked the back of my calf as if urging me to follow after him.

  I shut the door. "There's no point right now," I told her. "I really screwed this one up. He'll come back when he's ready to talk."

  My brave words didn't even convince Barney. She bonked me once more, softer, then padded off. Loud munching came from the kitchen.

  Which reminded me that I had a pint of Ghiradelli chocolate ice cream in the freezer.

  * * * *

  I crawled under an afghan on the couch, and I ate ice cream until I felt bloated. Since I didn't own a TV, I emptied my mind by reading all the latest gossip about various celebrities in In Touch magazine. Barney curled up into a warm, snoring ball on my feet.

  As I scanned the fashion photos of "Who Wore It Best," I had one of those despondent moments when I decided I didn't understand men at all. The stereotype would have me believe that most guys preferred a girlfriend who didn't burden them with unnecessary baggage. Sebastian should be happy I wasn't much of a talker when it came to my past. Who wanted all that crap dumped on them, anyway? It's not like he could do anything about it now.

  Yeah, okay, maybe I should have told him before today, if only because it was bound to come up sooner or later. I just preferred to leave my past buried. Even before the FBI showed up looking to make me into a murderer, I wasn't exactly in a hurry to let people in on the gory details of my crime of passion—especially not my boyfriend.

  I swirled the chocolate melt around the bottom of the bowl. Every noise made me twitch. I knew it was too much to hope that Sebastian would have an instant change of heart, but I couldn't help myself. At some point, I glanced at the clock over the bookshelves. It was well past midnight. I should go to bed, but the thought of lying in the darkness surrounded by all the I-should-haves and why-didn't-Is made me nauseous.

  When the phone rang, I leaped up to answer it so fast that Barney landed very hard and very uncatlike on the floor. I got the receiver in my hand before the second ring.

  "Yes?"

  But the voice on the other end wasn't Sebastian, or even Parrish; it was Izzy. "Oh good, you're awake. I need a favor."

  Izzy had once helped me pull Sebastian off the wall where he'd been pinioned with a longbow arrow. Despite the hour, I didn't even hesitate. "Of course."

  "Do you still have sea salt under the counter at your store? I need a zombie zapper."

  "Yeah, but Izzy, I'm fifteen minutes away by bike." That wasn't even counting in the time I'd need to find socks and shoes and get bundled up for the weather.

  "I'm still at the coffee shop. I just need your security code." She was whispering now, and I thought I could hear low moaning in the background.

  Cripes, it was like Night of the Living Dead over there.

  "Yeah, of course." Even though Izzy was my best friend, my gut clenched a little as I relayed the numbers to her. Then I felt guilty for even feeli
ng the least bit hesitation. Izzy was clearly in trouble.

  "Thanks." I could hear buttons being punched and the beep of the lock releasing.

  "Izzy, what's going on?"

  The line went dead.

  It hadn't quite sounded like she'd snapped off her cell. The sudden silence felt much more ominous somehow. I hit Izzy's cell number on speed dial and got her voice mail.

  I hunted up a pair of running shoes and then headed to my bedroom for a change of clothes. Barney hopped up onto the bed with a questioning, "Brrt?"

  "Izzy is probably okay," I told her as I wiggled out of the pajama bottoms and into a pair of jeans. "But I thought I'd just ride down to the store and make sure."

  Sitting her butt down on my grandmother's quilt, Barney watched me dress. Her steady, unblinking yellow stare was the closest thing to agreement she showed. Barney was worried too.

  After pulling on the thickest, warmest wool socks I had I gave Barney's ear an affectionate tug. "I'll be back before you know it."

  * * * *

  I had my jacket on and my bike in my arms when Parrish came in the front door.

  "You're out late," he said, just as I said, "You're in early."

  I answered first. "I thought I'd ride by the store. I think…" Normally I'd censor the part about the zombies, but this was Parrish I was talking to. "Hordes of the undead are attacking my best friend."

  Interested, Parrish leaned on the railing. It creaked under his weight. "Which kind?"

  "Zombies."

  "God, them again."

  I set my bike down. I stood just under where Parrish's elbow rested on the staircase railing. The pleasant smell of leather and sandalwood drifted between us. "So it's not just my imagination. There are a lot of them all of a sudden."

  "Yeah," Parrish shrugged. "Word is, it's Katrina."

  "Like, as in the hurricane?" When Parrish nodded I still didn't quite believe what he was implying. "Seriously?"

  He shrugged. "Listen, I came by to talk. If you want, I could go with you to check on your friend." He looked at my mountain bike, and then said, "We could take mine."

  His was a motorcycle and much faster. Very tempting, but I said, "I should probably go on my own. I don't think it's such a good idea, riding off alone with you anywhere right now."