One (Rules Undying Book 6)

by R. E. Carr

  “Do I want to know?”

  Bernard whipped out what looked like a nail gun loaded with rainbow toothpicks. Gail cringed. “Hell yeah, I made a mini stake-thrower. Wanna see it work?”

  “No, thank you,” Gail said as she shoved past them both. Williams growled at Bernard as Gail slammed the door behind her. Gail stopped short as she saw a tail flopped over one of the lab stools and Paige DeMarco slouched over a laptop, gnawing at her lip as she read an article from Kayleigh’s database. The Nakano doctors waved from their respective workstations.

  “Shouldn’t you be resting or something?” Gail asked. Paige blew a wayward curl out of her face.

  “I’m pregnant, not dying,” she growled. “I can’t cook to help mom. I’ve been ordered not to work out, and I really don’t feel like eating ice cream and watching TV, so I came over here to help find a way to help Great-Grandpa before he does anything stupider. Is um, she in town?”

  “Mina and her entourage arrived,” Gail said quickly. She didn’t dare look at the seething werewolf. “Lorcan is talking to her now.”

  “I hope it’s only talking, for her sake.”

  “I’m going to do all the stuff for Pearl, then I’ll be back. Let me know if you find anything,” Gail said, hustling for the safety of lab one. She settled into a calming routine of processing blood samples, only snacking on a few extras as she whipped them in and out of the fridge and the testing machines. While she waited for the centrifuge to finish, she continued to study articles and the various Beasts in vampire mythology. She pouted as her otherworldly visitor seemed unwilling or unable to make an appearance tonight. Just as she was downing a vial of O-negative, a contrite-looking Paige peeked into the lab.

  “Got a second?” the werewolf asked timidly.

  “Sure.”

  Paige waddled over to a stool and let out a deep breath. “Vampires don’t end up moving like obese penguins, do they? I’ve never seen a pregnant one to find out.”

  “They just look the same. I think they have some markings under the skin, but that’s about it. I’ll let you know in two-to-three hundred years, if I decide to have kids.”

  “Look, Lorcan has been gone a long time, and he’s not answering his phone. Just tell me the truth, do I have a reason to be jealous? I mean other than being a raging, hormonal werewolf. I just want to know.”

  “When I left, they were just arguing. It was pretty cold.”

  “They have been arguing for about six hours.”

  “Vampire time, you know,” Gail said with a little laugh. Paige sighed and furrowed her brows.

  “Thanks for at least trying to make me feel better. Have you found out anything about Steve? It’s a little less stressful to worry about him.”

  “Nothing yet, but I’ll keep you posted. I can’t believe he hasn’t called you or your mom. He must be pretty upset.”

  “Yeah well, I guess family doesn’t mean that much to him after all,” Paige growled. “What did the sheriff do to him?”

  “She gave him his dad’s blood, and it set something off. He synthesizes the miasma proteins of any vampire blood he drinks, but that doesn’t help us figure out where he’s hiding while wearing King Arthur’s face.”

  “But you said he was different and talking in Japanese. Could he possibly have some of Arthur’s memories?”

  “Ren’s memories. He’s certain the blood was Ren’s.”

  “Well, if he was having flashbacks as Ren, where would he go?” Paige asked. “It doesn’t make sense though—Ren is human. Shouldn’t he only get the effect from vampire blood?”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense, but he was so sure. Maybe it’s because Ren was born with a bit of vampire in him. It died when he was two—”

  “Never knew that,” Paige muttered, looking away strangely. “Are you sure? Like some sort of half-vampire? That’s impossible.”

  “Take it up with Dr. Nakano. I’m going to finish this up, get some sleep. I think I’m even taking a day off, while the others figure out what to do.”

  “A day off? Really?”

  “I’ve earned it, and I have a lot of reading to catch up on,” Gail said with a tight smile. “Hey, you really should get some rest. You look a little pale.”

  Paige yawned and slid off the stool awkwardly. Gail watched her adjust her waistband, while her tail hung limply behind her. The werewolf lingered slightly, her eyes darting over the notes, and for one moment, Gail saw a tell-tale flash of green.

  “Oh, hell no,” Gail said as she lunged. Paige whirled around and snapped her claws around Gail’s throat.

  “I knew this one would be tough to pull off, but you are surprisingly perceptive for an infant,” the sheriff snarled, still using Paige’s voice.

  “I should have known. The real Paige would have stormed off to confront Mina,” Gail squeaked out. “Are you going to break one of your own laws or what?”

  “Find my son,” the sheriff growled.

  “I thought you broke him out.”

  “He was only a distraction, so I could save my grandson, if you must know. He ran off on his own the moment I knocked out the big one.” The sheriff loosened her grip slightly. “You have a connection to him, don’t you? I’m not sure how much of his affection was bullshit for my benefit, but he certainly cared enough to try. Now, you know more about this Ren’s motivations and quite frankly, what my son is thinking recently. I need you to find him before these savages rip him apart.”

  “You need my help?” Gail asked incredulously.

  “I never waste a good tool. If the werewolves try anything, let them know I have their pint-sized prize female. If you need to reach me, I have an agent roaming downtown. I’m sure you’ll recognize him after all the good times you’ve shared.”

  Gail ripped free and raised her dukes at the sheriff. The sheriff laughed. “Timelines are advancing, child. I’m not going to rest on my laurels, while my whore of a sister tries to get her claws in my son again. Thank you for all your help.”

  “Where is Paige?”

  “Safe,” the sheriff said as she flickered out of view.

  “Bitch,” Gail grumbled. She looked up just in time to see the sheriff flip her off before disappearing once more from view. “God, I hate invisible, shapeshifting bloodsuckers.”

  “Enough is enough, I’m getting the cavalry,” Gail declared. She howled in frustration as she saw her phone had disappeared off the table. “Damn that sheriff.”

  Gail stormed out of the room but paused in the hallway. Instead of heading out back, she took a moment to check on their token human security guard in the front. “Bill?” She rolled her eyes at his “Smoke Break” sign. “Heaven forbid there be a real emergency.”

  A flicker in the front glass caught Gail’s attention. She peeked out the door but only saw a sedan pull out of the far end of the parking lot. She cursed the sheriff under her breath. A can clattered against the curb.

  “Gail?” a timid voice asked.

  She couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the arms snapping around her. A hand slid under her collar and onto the skin of her chest. “I’m sorry, but I need you to stay real quiet and come with me,” a Brooklyn-accented voice whispered in her ear. “Please, just come with me.”

  “Steve,” she mouthed as words failed her, and her body moved without any resistance.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” he said again as he led her off into the night.

  12

  “I’m so sorry it had to be like this.”

  Georgia’s cheek pressed into cold tile, but something warm and sticky dripped onto her head as she lay sprawled in the bathroom. She rolled her eyes heavenward to see blood running from limp fingertips.

  “Just clean this mess up!” a crackly, older voice commanded.

  “Come on, Sweetheart.” Big, strong hands lifted Georgia off the floor. She rested against something soft, and a gentle whooshing sound filled her ears. She closed her eyes and let out a little sigh. “The monsters ca
n’t hurt you anymore.”

  “Oh god, it hurts,” Georgia moaned, trying to open her eyes. The bright lights forced her into a tiny slice of vision, while a cacophony of beeps and hisses assaulted her tender ears.

  “Interesting. Usually the dead don’t try to talk, but you must always be difficult, don’t you, Mrs. DeMarco?” a vaguely familiar voice asked from off to the side.

  “Not . . . dead.”

  “Oh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but yes, you are, child. Take a look.”

  Georgia slowly, painfully slowly tilted her head to the left. Her own glassy eyes stared back at her through a mess of tubing and wires. Faded-blue, limp hair fell over a dead ringer for Georgia. She looked down and could see blue patches and a nasty gash on the doppelgänger’s throat.

  “Not me,” she choked out. “I’m not . . .”

  “You were found, bloated, in the Charles River. It’s been quite the sensation on the local news,” the voice said softly. He finally crouched down, so she could take in his smug smile, and rugged Egyptian features. Merlin flipped around a phone to show the headline “Missing Girl Found”.

  “Hate that picture,” Georgia croaked as she looked away from her own face again. “Also, not dead.”

  “It really would be best if you accepted your fate now, rather than later, Mrs. DeMarco. Everyone you’ve ever known, everyone you’ve even remotely cared about, knows that you are dead; but just in case, I’ll make sure the story breaks nationally too. You poor thing, mauled and dumped, like . . . well, like a piece of trash. It’s poetic, don’t you think?”

  Georgia bit her tongue. Instead she focused on the weight of the sheet and the pain radiating from her collar to her hips. She took a shallow breath and focused all her energy into curling her fingers. She groaned as only her pinky twitched.

  “It’s funny, you do remind me of someone,” Merlin said as he wandered around the bed. “He couldn’t accept the truth either. It was really . . . rather sad, when I think about it.”

  “Fuck . . . off,” Georgia said, with enough force to crack her parched lips.

  “Always so charming, Mrs. DeMarco. Maybe I should just call you Georgia. It’s not like your dear husband is looking for you. Last I heard, he crawled into a bottle, and I somehow doubt he will be coming out anytime soon. Your furry friends are too busy squabbling and running after my daughter to really care about one dead girl—”

  “Mr. Lambley will—”

  Merlin burst into cruel laughter. “Oh yes, dear, sweet Geoffrey Lambley, the poor little monster who could never hurt a fly.” The elder vampire leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Who do you think killed you, child? Oh, and before you call out for your dear, beloved Ren Matsuoka, he is just as dead as you. Only my son remains in his place.”

  “Still . . . lying,” Georgia wheezed.

  “Oh no, my dear, it is you who are lying . . . to yourself.”

  Georgia tried her best to glare at him. She cringed, taking that very moment to cough up some bloody mucus. Merlin smiled and wiped it away almost tenderly.

  “You know, a merciful man would have let you drift off into the darkness where you so rightly belong. Tell me, did your life flash in front of your eyes? Did you see all your loved ones waiting for you with smiling faces? No . . . I can see it in your eyes. You didn’t see anyone because deep in your heart, you know the truth. You know that no one ever loved you. You were just convenient and available. Why, even your precious Ren pushed you aside and told you to forget him . . . until, of course, he forgot you too. You are damaged, unwanted goods.”

  “What is your damage, Georgia?” she heard as the world went hazy. Tears welled up as she saw Ren staring at her with drunken, angry eyes. The hospital faded into the neon bliss of a karaoke bar. “I mean, what happened to make you such an expert on disappointment? Enlighten me, please.”

  She wandered over to look at Ren’s playlist full of songs about longing and loneliness. “You couldn’t mix it up with a little ‘Don’t Stop Believing,’ could you?” After a few seconds of his painfully bright green stare, she took a seat next to him and started rolling her own drink between her palms. Just as Ren grew impatient and began picking at a hairline fracture in the paint, Georgia finally took a deep breath but ended up choking up before any real words formed.

  “You can’t think of anything, can you?” Ren said, venom dripping from his voice.

  “I wish I could say it was one thing, something tragic,” she finally spat out. “Something to rationalize just how little I’ve done with my life, but I can’t.”

  Ren leaned forward to listen but didn’t dare say a word. She continued.

  “It’s just—it’s like—” she stammered. “It’s like my dreams were worn away by paper cuts, and at some point, I woke up and realized that, ‘Hey, you aren’t going to be in a music video, land on the moon, cure cancer, or win Olympic gold.’ It’s like you spend your whole youth being told just how awesome and special you are, but then you take one step outside, and that bubble bursts. The cold truth sinks in that you’re average and that you’re destined for middle management, at best.”

  “Says the girl dating a vampire and jet-setting in Tokyo,” Ren said softly.

  Georgia laughed sadly. “Hey, you asked. Don’t blame me if you don’t like the answer.”

  Georgia opened her eyes again and summoned her best sneer. “Ren—” she choked out. “Ren will always—”

  “Ren is dead,” Merlin said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Just like you.”

  13

  “Oh Steve, what have you done?” Gail gasped. She stared in horror at the flayed strips of skin peeling from his arms as he held his hands in front of him. “Why?”

  “They keep coming back. No matter what I do, they just keep coming back.” He winced as Gail went to work gently swabbing and pressing the skin back down where she could. The tattooed epidermis seemed to regenerate as she watched.

  “I guess vampires really don’t scar,” Gail noted as she watched a patch by his wrist heal. “Still, this can’t be good for you. This has to hurt.”

  “Just spit on it,” he whined.

  “That’s not a good idea. I’m still working on the whole spitting acid and belching lighter fluid thing,” she said as she pulled out some plastic wrap for the worst parts. “Wow, do you cover or not cover when a vampire flays himself?”

  Steve grabbed her hand. She flinched but breathed a sigh of relief as she felt his gloves rather than skin. “Please, spit all the acid you want. I want these to go away!”

  Gail surveyed his now distinctly Japanese features and long, black hair. “I’m sorry but burning off a few tattoos isn’t going to change anything, Steve. You’re still—”

  “I’m a freak,” he moaned. “Of all the people in all the world, I had to end up as Ren. Why? Why would I do this to myself?”

  “Please, Steve, I need you to calm down, and I need you to focus. Paige is in danger—”

  “So? What am I going to do about it? I only make things worse.” He eyed a wooden chair with a high back. Gail yanked him against her before he could smash his wounded arms into a pile of cellulose.

  “Damn it, Steve! It’s Paige we’re talking about.”

  Steve looked away guiltily. His roughly hacked-off hair fell over his face. Gail shoved him into the back of his seat and straddled him to hold him down, while she finished patching him up. Once satisfied that he was no longer bleeding on a stranger’s carpet, she took a moment to survey the all-black wonderland that surrounded the two vampires. The entire living room seemed decorated by the Target Halloween catalog, with little skeleton lights draping over the ebony curtains, and foam gargoyles surrounding the straight-out-of-the-eighties leather sofa.

  “Steve, where are we?” Gail asked as she saw bondage collars and cuffs hanging off the dining room chandelier.

  “That goth guy, Milton, left his wallet and keys at the lab,” Steve muttered.

  “Oh. I wonder what happened to him,”
Gail murmured, furrowing her brows. “This is . . . actually exactly what I pictured his house would be like. Now, please, please, just listen to me. Your vampire mom has Paige and is doing god knows what to her—”

  “She needs Paige alive. It’s the only leverage she has on Lorcan.”

  “And what? You’re just going to leave her there? For fuck’s sake, Steve—”

  “You are very vulgar, you know that?”

  “What are you going to do? Rip off your gloves and command me not to swear? Is that your new answer to everything?” Gail snapped.

  “I deserved that,” Steve said softly. He shoved Gail away and rubbed the plastic film on his arms. “Hmm, no cellulose like the cotton ones. I never thought of that.”

  “Why are you changing the subject?” Gail asked, hands on hips. “How drunk are you?”

  “Not drunk enough,” he muttered, pushing to his feet and lumbering to the fridge. He pulled an already-open Rolling Rock out. The first sip made his lips pucker, but then he shrugged and started chugging it down.

  “You are . . . unbelievable! Why did you drag me out here? Were you bored having a pity party by yourself? Look, I patched you up, so if you aren’t going to do anything, I’m going to go back and warn Lorcan that his pregnant wife has been kidnapped by vampires.”

  “I could order you not to go,” Steve offered. “That would make it a moot point, wouldn’t it?”

  They stared at each other in awkward silence. Gail cocked her head at the dead ringer for Ren Matsuoka, only speaking with a pained Brooklyn accent. Steve gnawed at his lip and shuffled around the kitchen as he kept searching for words. Finally, he buried his face in his hands.

  “I always make things worse, Gail. I tried to look out for my family, and I only ended up dragging them into this mess. Damn it, Lorcan only found out about Paige because he was following me. It’s all my fault. I tried to get Georgia out, and now she’s dead. I’m incapable of doing anything right, and now . . . now look at me! Me with all this power is like giving the A-bomb to a damn monkey. All I’m gonna do is fling more shit around!”