by SM Reine
“Kill me? This is so much worse!” The urge to vomit came over her again. She bucked as her body purged, then flopped onto her side, curled her arms around her knees. “Gods, kill me now! Kill me!”
“Stop whining. My head hurts.” Dana stood up, and the room no longer swirled around her like she were in the center of an old carnival Gravitron. That had been a side effect of the lethe. Nissa had drained the Garlic Shot out of her, along with a couple pints of blood, and Dana felt like she was about to pass out in a completely different way.
Dana put a hand on the wall to steady herself, squeezing her eyes shut against the pounding in her head. She was desperately thirsty. That was a side effect of blood loss. She needed a transfusion.
Like it or not, Dana needed the OPA.
“Kill me,” Nissa whimpered again, scraping her fingernails down her face. “The only good vampire is an ashed vampire!”
Mohinder’s claws glittered on the linoleum, and Dana kicked them under a table so she wouldn’t have to see them. “I don’t kill humans, dumbass. You’re not a vampire anymore.”
“Nobody knows. You can tell everyone you staked me and I turned to dust.” There was such hope in Nissa’s eyes, peeking out from over her knees, even as pain twisted her eyebrows. “Kill me.” Nissa still looked like a tinier version of Penny. Tiny, pale, blood-soiled, and sobbing.
“I’m not killing any human who doesn’t deserve it.”
“After everything I’ve done—”
“You’re still a victim,” Dana said. “A victim and a monster. You killed Penny. You don’t deserve my sympathy, my mercy, or the blessing of my blade. You deserve to be human. You deserve to suffer in an—”
The latch to the oubliette’s door broke with a sharp clang.
Penny exploded out of darkness.
She leaped past Dana without even seeing her, and she slammed into Nissa on the ground. She pinned her. The sudden violence of it was so shocking that Dana could only stare.
Penny’s mouth opened wide, flashing fangs. She was from Mohinder’s bloodline. She had fangs belonging to the Fremont Slasher wedged in between her orc tusks.
When she bit down on Nissa, it wasn’t neat. It wasn’t tidy or sexy or merciful.
Tusks and fangs ripped open Nissa’s throat. Blood spurted from her—fresh blood, human blood—and splattered over Penny’s ashen face.
She sucked and slurped and wallowed wetly. A lot.
After a moment, Penny dropped Nissa.
Nissa’s eyes were unfocused. Her hand was barely twitching, and nothing else moved. Blood bubbled in the wound with every tiny attempt to inhale.
“Oh my gods,” Penny whispered.
It had only taken a few seconds for Penny to slaughter Nissa, and a few seconds more for Penny’s starving vampire body to restore function to her cognition.
Penny had regained control of herself about sixty seconds too late.
Her hands flew over Nissa’s body without touching, as if she were discovering the wounds for the first time rather than having perpetrated them. Penny began to shake. She cried out in horror, anger, fear. Fear of what she’d become.
Dana crept silently over to stand behind her. Penny was such a wreck that her vampire senses didn’t alert her to the approach. It was usually much harder for a slayer like Dana to creep up on a vampire.
She rested a hand on Penny’s broad, muscled shoulder.
The orc whipped around.
When she realized Dana had seen the killing, what little blood remained drained out of her face. “Dana. Oh my gods, Dana…” Her bloody hand covered her mouth, muffling the rising sobs. “I killed her. I didn’t even mean to, and I killed her. You were right about—you know—vampires. They’re all bad. We’re bad.”
Dana wrapped a hand around the back of Penny’s neck, pulling her forward until their foreheads touched over Nissa’s body. Nissa’s eyes were still open. She seemed to be struggling to focus on the women above her.
“I’m sorry, Dana,” Penny said. “I’m so sorry. I can’t…I shouldn’t…oh my gods!” She sounded more shocked than genuinely regretful.
“It’s okay,” Dana said, and she meant it.
“It’s not okay. I mean, Nissa was awful, and she deserved it. She did! But she was a human, and I’m a vampire, and you’re a slayer. I made it so that you have to kill me! I’ve ruined your—”
Dana kissed Penny.
Just as Penny hadn’t been careful tearing into Nissa, Dana wasn’t careful trying to kiss her wife. She didn’t bother trying to navigate the fangs to avoid getting hurt. She turned off her brain, trusted that Penny wouldn’t bite her, and kissed her the way she always had.
Penny’s breath tasted like human blood.
“I love you,” Dana whispered, and the words pounded truth through her gut, like a stake driven into the heart of a vampire. “I don’t care you’re bloodless. I don’t care you killed someone who hurt you.”
A tear slid down Penny’s cheek. “I love you too.”
They embraced tightly. Penny’s skin was cool, even with the fresh flow of blood under the surface.
Dana watched the last of the light fade from Nissa’s eyes over Penny’s arm. Nissa’s lips moved like she was trying to say something. She couldn’t seem to get it out.
The slow-blink of the daylighting countdown had slowed even further—one flash every other second. It reflected in Nissa’s eyes, which were brown, like Penny’s.
For a moment, Dana felt a new presence. The God of Death had arrived. He was the third of the triad, and not typically a presence that Dana welcomed, even though he swept over her like a warm blanket. She could feel his hand resting on her back in acknowledgment of what she’d done.
Dana had finished her god-given quest.
No. Penny had finished it for her.
They’d done it together.
Nissa’s eyes went blank, and Dana lifted her head to look up at the place she could feel the presence of the god of death. “Hey,” she said quietly.
He wasn’t alone. All three of the gods were there—watching, waiting, observing. Maybe silently thanking Dana.
The sound of helicopter rotors echoed through the window. The OPA had finally caught up to them, just in time to be of no help whatsoever.
“Hide,” Dana said, shoving Penny into the corner just in time.
Daylight blossomed over Las Vegas, bathing half of the office in sunshine. It edged the leaves of the ficus in the doorway. It lit Wax Britney Spears’s hair like she was an angel.
The feeling of being watched was gone. The gods had moved on.
So had Nissa. She was dead on the linoleum.
Dana stood up, backing into the shadows with Penny, where daylight couldn’t burn her skin. Dana waited until she saw the first of the helmeted heads poking around the corner to shout. “Nissa Royal is dead! Only friendlies down here! Call Cèsar and black out the windows!”
Distant voices shouted. Shadows moved over the room as the window was obscured by magical walls, draping the wax museum in nighttime.
Dana let out a sigh of relief. Penny did not because she wasn’t breathing. She was now more gray than green, and her hair looked darker in contrast. Maybe it was the blood loss turning Dana delirious, but she thought Penny was somehow more beautiful now than ever before. She saw the fangs, and she felt nothing but love.
“Marry me,” Dana said, taking her hand.
Penny leaned heavily on Dana and Britney Spears for support. “What? Really?”
“Yes really. I don’t know if the divorce went through or not, but fuck it. Let’s get married again either way. Marry me!”
“Where?” Penny asked. “Vegas is going to be sunlit for the next six months.”
“Tell you what—you can pick where you wanna go. Anywhere at all. Whatever sounds like the best place to get married again.”
“You really don’t hate me,” Penny said wonderingly.
“I really don’t,” Dana said.
Penny
kissed her as OPA agents ran into the room, holding them at gunpoint and shouting out warnings. They may as well have not existed. Dana only had eyes for her wife.
“I do,” Penny whispered.
23
“You may now kiss the bride,” announced Lincoln.
Dana dived at Penny and kissed her in the moonlight, which was especially bright at Lake Tahoe’s high elevation. The moon hung low so that they were bathed in the shine of it.
At their kiss, the onlookers erupted into howls of approval.
The second wedding of Dana and Penny McIntyre was attended by a broad array of guests, from high-and-mighty important types like Abram Peterson and insignificant unknowns like Baraek, from the Las Vegas shifter pack. There were more preternaturals than mundanes by a factor of ten, so it made for a rowdy beach. None of them seemed to care about post-midnight noise nuisance laws. Most guests hadn’t bothered to sit in the white folding chairs provided by the casino, either.
Lake Tahoe was hundreds of miles from Las Vegas, but Dana would have bet that the cheering was audible all the way down south.
Which was good. Dana felt like cheering too.
They broke away from the kiss, and Penny’s cheeks were glistening, flushed with blood she’d drunk from Dana before the ceremony. They’d spent the last two weeks testing sips of Dana’s blood several times. She hadn’t been able to make another Garlic Shot—pre-Genesis lethe was hard to come by—so that meant Penny needed food, and Dana had plenty to share.
“I love you,” Penny whispered, standing so close to Dana that they were surrounded by her curls. Her crimson irises reflected the lantern light as though she’d captured twin suns within her eyes.
“Yeah you do,” Dana said.
And they kissed again.
The reception was at the same beachside casino where they’d held the wedding, so they didn’t have to go far for the after-party. The guests wandered into the beachside gazebo to find that music was already playing, dinner was served, and that there was no head table. (“We are not doing speeches again, and I mean it,” Dana had told Penny during the planning process.)
A lot of formalities had been dropped for the second wedding. Some of that was to appease Dana. A lot of it was because weddings were hard to arrange within a two-week period.
Penny had insisted on keeping certain formalities, though. Dana had to shake hands with all the guests, one by one. Tormid. Baraek. Edie Ashe. Brianna. A few of the less obnoxious police officers from the LVMPD, who’d been looking for an excuse to vacation in Lake Tahoe. Brianna. On and on down the line. She kinda stopped paying attention to the faces after a few minutes.
Charmaine came up to shake her hand. “You two look beautiful,” said the police chief, kissing both Dana and Penny on the cheeks.
“Back atcha,” Dana said. “That dress is gonna get shifters sniffing up your skirt if you’re not careful.”
The chief laughed. “Frankly, I could use a few sniffs. It’s been a long time since I got sniffed. I think it’s time that I move on, you know?”
Something warm spread in Dana’s chest. “Yeah, you should.”
“Maybe start with the shifter who can’t keep his eyes off of you,” Penny whispered, throwing significant glances toward the back corner where Tormid stood with Baraek. Tormid had barely looked away from Charmaine all night.
Charmaine smoothed her dress down. “He’s probably thinking pack politics.”
“Do you keep those in your bra? Because he’s not looking at your brain,” Dana said.
The chief slugged her in the arm. “Don’t screw with me, McIntyre. And stay out of my love life.” But she was returning Tormid’s gazes with thoughtful interest, and Dana felt her work was well and truly done. “You still sure about joining the OPA?”
“Already signed the employment agreement,” Dana said. “It won’t be bad working for Cèsar. Maybe he’ll even send me back to you eventually.”
“I can only hope it’s soon,” Charmaine said.
They shook hands one more time and the line moved on. Dana zoned out most everyone until a face she hadn’t invited appeared in front of her.
“Cèsar,” Dana said, surprised. She shook his hand. For a faerie, he had a strong grip. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“I loaned my jet to Abram Peterson, and then hitched a ride to crash the party,” said the undersecretary, sweeping his glittering black hair out of his eyes. “Sorry. Need to talk to you when you’ve got a minute.”
“It’s my wedding,” Dana said.
“It won’t take long. I’ll be over there, not drinking any of your expensive champagne.” Cèsar headed over to another table, which was being flanked by his usual pair of sidhe agents. They were conspicuous in black suits.
Cèsar wasn’t conspicuous, all things considered. He was in casual clothes. Expensive casual clothes. Bespoke Italian everything, but in a modest, minimalist way. He’d eschewed his usual high-octane glamour for one he probably wore on a more regular basis, so he definitely looked like a sidhe, but a relaxed one.
“You okay?” Penny whispered to Dana.
“I’m great,” Dana whispered back. The OPA undersecretary at her wedding, far from his stomping grounds, meant that there was an apocalypse coming and they’d all die before midnight.
She managed to break away from things before getting sucked in to other wedding rituals. Cèsar looked surprised by how quickly she showed up at his table.
“Where’s the apocalypse and how do we avert it?” Dana asked.
He burst into laughter. “I have no idea! I bet you anything there are assholes even tougher than you out there fighting apocalypse right now, but it ain’t my problem. I’m on leave. Heading to this island in the Caribbean to meet Fritz. Thought you’d want the tracker extracted first.” He pulled out a device that kind of looked like a piercing gun.
“Fuck yes.” She shook off her white jacket, rolled up her sleeve, and offered her arm to him without hesitation. It couldn’t be more painful than feeding a vampire wife. She had several holes on the inside of her wrist, and those were only the visible bite marks. “Be careful prying that thing out. I don’t want you accidentally blowing up my head after I put up with you for an entire murder investigation.”
“Please, do you really think I’d put something that could blow your head up in your arm? It was just a tracker, McIntyre,” Cèsar said. He pressed the gun to her arm. She only felt a hard pinch, and then he was dropping the tracking bead into a baggie an OPA agent held. It was done. “You’ve gotta try being less gullible sometimes.”
“Because it’s so far-fetched to think the OPA kills disobedient employees?”
“You’re not an employee,” Cèsar reminded her. “You signed on with Charmaine before I could hook you into a contract. Remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Dana said without missing a beat. “I just meant I was on your payroll before.”
“Yeah, but your employment with the OPA’s done,” Cèsar said. “We’re not sending you back to prison and now you’re a cop. Woohoo! Best day ever!”
She chewed the idea over and over in her mind. “The Hunting Club’s still gonna be contracted with you guys?”
“Well,” he said with a shrug. There was no point answering that question. The OPA would someday have every damn American on their payroll.
“I want you to keep the Hunting Club contract,” Dana said.
Cèsar dropped his feet, which had been propped up on the end of the buffet table. “Why?”
“Because Las Vegas needs help. A lot more help. You assholes fucked it up even worse than it was before you came in, and—”
“We killed most of the vampires and arrested the remainder. Exactly like you wanted.”
“I’d have done it more delicately,” Dana said.
“You? Delicate?”
“Anyway, Vegas has issues. The daylight bomb’s gonna stop in a few months and the problems will creep back in. I want OPA support cleaning things up.” She ti
cked her demands off on her fingers. “Air support when necessary, a unit on the ground assigned to work with the Hunting Club, supply of firearms…”
“Okay,” Cèsar interrupted. “They’ll have all of it. I’ll pass it on to one of my underlings for arrangement.”
“You’re not arranging it? You, the new king of Las Vegas?”
“McIntyre, my friend, buddy old pal,” he said, “I am sincerely hoping I never have to work with you directly ever again. I’m done with the State of Nevada.”
Cèsar held a hand out.
Dana glanced back at Penny, who was in a cluster of so many people preening over her wedding dress that only her horns were visible over the crowd. “Deal.” Dana shook Cèsar’s hand.
The one boring marriage ritual Dana hadn’t argued with was the first dance. In fact, Penny had been against doing a dance at this reception, since they’d already had their real “first” dance at their first wedding. But Dana was an awesome dancer, they’d paid for ballroom classes years earlier, and she planned on making use of those skills.
It was weird to twirl around the dance floor with a vampire while everyone was watching. Weird, but right.
“When do you think Charmaine and Cèsar are going to figure out that you’re lying to both of them about taking jobs with the other?” Penny whispered, her hand resting lightly on Dana’s shoulder.
“Hopefully not until we’ve had a lot of time uninterrupted on nude beaches,” Dana said. She twirled her wife and then pulled her back. “I’ll pick one after they’re done throwing tantrums. Whichever one you want. I’ll work for one of those assholes—or maybe both of them.”
“You’d really do that?” Penny asked.
“For you. I’ll do anything for you.” She already had.
Penny’s eyes focused over Dana’s shoulder. “Ooh! Look who showed up!”
A tall, leggy brunette was chuckling by the bar. She was loud enough that her tinkling laughter carried over the sound of music, even though there was no way that Chris or Dionne had said anything nearly that funny.
When she spoke, her fingers fluttered over her glossy lips. Her long eyelashes flitted like wings of a butterfly. The toss of her head was enough to send a faint perfume of forest fires toward Dana.