The Suck Stops Here

by Kristen Painter

  She opened the fridge to get the milk out.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  She jumped, totally unaware until that moment that she wasn’t alone. She glanced over.

  Hector was sitting on the couch. Knitting. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s okay. I should have seen you there. No, I can’t sleep. I want to. But I can’t.”

  “Too much on your mind.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she answered him anyway. “Yes. As usual. But lately, there’s just been more and more.” She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  She poured a cup of milk to put in the microwave.

  “Would you like a little assistance?”

  She looked at him again. “With the milk?”

  He laughed softly. “With sleeping.”

  “Um…sure. What do you have in mind?”

  He put his knitting down and walked over to her. “I’m a sandman. Sleep is what we do.”

  “You’re a sandman? I had no idea that was a real thing.” Once again, she’d learned something new. Although she had sensed he wasn’t human.

  “I don’t require sleep, although I can. Mainly, I specialize in helping others sleep, fixing bad dreams, those sorts of things. It’s one of the reasons Lionel employs me. He says I have a calming effect on him and the rest of the band.” Hector smiled. “They are pretty wound up when they get offstage.”

  “I can imagine. So what do I need to do?”

  “Just go to your bed. You should have just enough time to do that. Be prepared to fall asleep right away.”

  “I’m all kinds of prepared for that.” She glanced at the milk.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’ll put it away.”

  “Okay. I’m ready, then.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pinch of glittering dust, which he sprinkled onto his open palm. “Sweet dreams, Governor.” Then he took a breath and blew the dust over her.

  For a moment, nothing happened. “I don’t think—”

  Her lids dropped like they were lead. She grabbed hold of the counter. Sleep was winning. Fast.

  She felt Hector scoop her up. “You were more tired than I realized. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

  Then everything faded to black.

  She woke up after having had the best sleep of her life. She stretched and yawned and twisted to see if Cammie was still in bed too. She wasn’t.

  The room was pitch black thanks to the heavy curtains and closed door, but she could hear soft sounds and muted voices in the house. Others were definitely up. The smells of coffee and pancakes, all buttery and sweet, reached her as well.

  Her stomach rumbled, and she smiled. Today might be a solemn day, but someone was making sure they were well fed.

  She got up and realized she was still in her robe. Hector must have carried her to bed and put her under the covers as she was. She respected his consideration. And the gift of sleep he’d given her.

  She hadn’t had a dream or a nightmare that she could remember either. Just deep, solid sleep. Whatever that dust was, it was magic. She giggled. Obviously.

  She tucked her phone in her pocket, then went out to see who was up and what was going on. She found everyone but Neo, Bunni, and Francine in the kitchen, dining room area, or living room. Breakfast, such as it was at four in the afternoon, was in full swing.

  Pierce and Cammie were cooking, making big plates of pancakes, eggs, and sausages.

  “Morning,” Donna said. A chorus of good mornings greeted her. “I’m going to guess there’s coffee?”

  “Good morning,” Pierce said. “There is and plenty of it.”

  “Perfect.” She wandered into the kitchen, looking for a cup.

  Cammie opened the cabinet above her and took one out. “Here you go. How did you sleep?”

  “Amazingly, thanks to Hector. Where is he, by the way?”

  Temo looked up from his tablet. “He’s out at the bus. Did he use his magic dust on you?”

  Donna poured a cup of coffee, then added cream and sugar. “He did. And I had the best sleep you can imagine. Has he ever done that to you?”

  Temo shook his head. “Doesn’t work on demigods.”

  “Interesting.” She brought her cup to her mouth and took a long, slow sip. The coffee was hot, strong, and sweet. Perfect.

  “Would you like some pancakes?”

  “I would. A big stack. And some sausage.” Donna took a seat at the dining room table, across from Charlie, who had her laptop open. “Anything interesting going on?”

  “Sort of. There are some memorial messages on the governors’ loop and some congratulatory ones.”

  Donna frowned. “For what?”

  “For you.” Charlie glanced up, the screen’s blue glow reflected in her eyes. “On your enviable ability to daywalk, your new treaty with the Indiana pack, and your daughter’s impending wedding.”

  “The ink is barely dry on that thing.”

  “I guess Mayor Tom was eager to make the announcement.”

  Neo came downstairs, braids wrapped up in a knot high atop her head, looking fresh-faced without any makeup. “Morning.”

  “Hey, baby,” Temo said with a smile.

  “Hey, boo. You eat already?”

  “Nope. Waiting on you.” He held out his arms as she slid into them and gave him a kiss.

  Donna smiled and shook her head. They were too much in the best possible way. It made her happy to be around all that love. Which reminded her that Christina hadn’t checked in. Neither had Joe Jr. Or at least not since she’d looked at her phone to read Ishalan’s text.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked.

  Donna looked up from her coffee. “Nothing, really. Just thinking I hadn’t heard from my kids. But then, I haven’t looked at my phone yet today either.” She pulled it out of her pocket and checked. Both kids had responded. She smiled.

  “That reminds me,” Neo said. “I wonder if I got a response from Claudette on that little sound bite I sent her.” She kissed Temo again. “I’m gonna run back upstairs and get my laptop. Will you get me some coffee?”

  He nodded. “Two sugars, splash of cream. On it.”

  With a burst of lightning speed, she returned to their room. She came down the stairs at a much more standard pace and in the company of Francine.

  By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Bunni appeared at the top. She’d apparently gone to bed with her makeup on, because it was smeared and blurry, making her eyes look like two bruises. Her hair was a sight, and she was wrapped in a white chenille robe covered in hot pink roses.

  She stared down at everyone, squinty-eyed. “Is there coffee? I need coffee. And blood. And food. But I wanna shower first.”

  “Go ahead,” Donna said. “We’ll save you a plate.”

  “M’kay.” She toddled back toward her bathroom.

  Kace rolled his eyes. “Someone had too much to drink last night.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t know that,” Donna said. “Maybe she’s just not a morning person.”

  Kace leaned in. “I do know that because she kissed me last night after I went upstairs to finish my movie, and she tasted like a bourbon barrel.”

  Donna sighed. “That’s inappropriate behavior on her part. And the alcohol is no excuse. I’ll talk to her.”

  “No, don’t,” Kace said. “She probably doesn’t even remember it. She’d be mortified if she knew I told you.”

  Donna frowned. “You’re sure?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. But if she tries it again…”

  “Right,” Donna said.

  Neo had her laptop open. She shook her head. “No response from Claudette, but she definitely read the message. I put an open tracker on it.”

  Neo cut her eyes at Donna. “It’s going to be an interesting night.”

  Hours later, as everyone assembled on the terrace for the funeral service, it turned out Neo was right. It was going to be an interestin
g night. Mostly because Governor Fitzhugh had shown up alone.

  Claudette was nowhere to be found.

  At least not that Donna could see. She wasn’t about to make a scene looking either, so maybe Claudette was there, just nowhere near Fitzhugh. Or maybe she was running late for some reason. But as the minutes ticked by, she remained missing.

  Interesting. But not the reason Donna was here. Chairs had been set up, as well as a small podium. The air was cold, but they were all dressed for it. And unlike the previous, cloudy night, the moon was bright and full as it rose, casting the whole scene in deep shadows and a watery, silver light that seemed perfect for the evening.

  Tall gilt lanterns outlined the terrace’s edge, the glass enclosures keeping the ivory beeswax candles inside from sputtering out. Ropes of greenery and cream roses connected each lantern to the next, finally culminating in a wall of roses behind the podium, where a script A had been picked out in white lilies. The effect was subtle but beautiful and very Artemis.

  Every so often, when the breeze shifted a certain way, the warm, perfumy scent of honey and flowers drifted past. The only interruption was a strange, ratcheting sound that echoed out from the surrounding woods every few minutes.

  What was that? she wondered. Then she realized she could ask someone without saying a word. She thought the question again, directing it this time.

  Will was seated next to her, and suddenly his voice came through clearly in her head. Magpie.

  She smiled and thought back, Good to see that worked.

  His brows lifted, his expression amused. Loud and clear. Much like the magpie.

  Donna almost laughed, but managed to just smile instead. She gave him a slight nod of thanks in return. She did not want to cause a commotion. After all, if she started laughing, it might spread. At the very least, it would make her look terrible. She took a deep breath and glanced down the row.

  Bunni, Francine, and Neo had also been seated with them. None of them seemed to have noticed her amusement. Francesca was two rows ahead of them. All nonvampires were farther back.

  She didn’t know if that was standard protocol, Artemis’s personal request, or what the queen’s staff had decided to do. She wasn’t thrilled to have Pierce, Charlie, and Temo farther away, but this wasn’t the time or place to worry about it.

  After all, this would be over soon enough. Then the reading of the will would happen, and the question of why Artemis wanted them all present for that would be answered.

  Soft music began to play. Some kind of ancient flute.

  Marcus walked down the center aisle between the chairs and came to stand behind the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, as the representative of the queen’s staff, I would like to thank you all for coming. I know the journey hasn’t been easy for some of you, but I assure you that Queen Artemis, daughter of Zenos, sire of many, beloved by all, would be moved by your show of respect.”

  He pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket. “Artemis knew this day would come, and she prepared for it, as you’ve all been made aware. To that end, she left us the plans she wished to see fulfilled, as well as personal notes to her staff, something we will all treasure until we, too, meet our final end.”

  A little morbid, maybe, Donna thought, but Artemis had undoubtedly thought about death a lot in her very long life.

  “She asked that this poem be read at her service.” He cleared his throat softly before he began.

  “Do not stand by my grave, and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am the thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints in snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle, autumn rain. As you awake with morning’s hush, I am the swift, up-flinging rush of quiet birds in circling flight, I am the day transcending night. Do not stand by my grave, and cry. I am not there, I did not die.”

  A single tear had run down Marcus’s cheek about halfway through, and although his voice had thickened, he’d managed to get through the whole poem. It was impossible not to be moved. Donna sniffled and wiped at her eyes. All around her, vampires were weeping.

  It seemed that with Artemis’s death, an era had ended. She’d been queen for a very long time. She’d been a stabilizing force in the vampire nation. Nothing would be the same again, Donna feared.

  Marcus folded the paper and tucked it away. “There is rarely a body to be buried when it comes to a vampire’s funeral. Quite often, there are ashes instead. We were prepared to have neither due to the circumstances of Artemis’s death, but thanks to Governor Barrone’s remarkable friendship with the new fae king, he sent us what ashes of Artemis’s could be collected.”

  Donna froze as all around her, people turned to look at her. She hadn’t had any idea Ishalan had done that.

  Marcus reached down and brought out an ornate gold container, about half the size of a cigar box. He set it on the podium. “Her ashes will be interred in a private family mausoleum in the Paris catacombs per her request.”

  Donna had never thought about Artemis with actual flesh-and-blood family, but obviously they had existed. That mausoleum was proof. How old was it?

  Marcus’s gaze swept the audience. “Artemis’s last request for her service was that anyone who wanted to speak be allowed to. She specifically said in her instructions that she didn’t care if it was to praise her or criticize her. If someone has something they want to say about her, they should feel free to do so now.”

  Marcus stepped away from the podium, making it clear anyone who wanted to share should come up.

  A little panic trickled down Donna’s spine. Would the attendees expect her to say something? She hadn’t known Artemis well.

  One by one, vampires got up to speak, Francesca among them. The urge to say something warred with Donna’s nerves. She’d only barely known Artemis, but she’d probably known her better than some.

  As the last vampire stepped away from the podium, Donna plucked up her courage and left her row. She held her head up, in the hopes of downplaying the nerves coursing through her, as she turned to face those gathered. She knew some of the people she stood before were thinking she had no right to be there.

  She wasn’t going to let that feeling fester. Even if she was shaking a bit. Not when she was about to face the council tomorrow night and might never get a chance to address Fitzhugh’s lie again.

  “I liked Artemis very much. She stood by me and defended me when I needed her. She was an enigma, to be sure, but she was a good ruler." Donna stared at the small gold box containing the queen’s ashes, then looked up again, resolved.

  “Some of you might think I have no place behind this podium. That I had a hand in our great queen’s death. I didn’t. I assure you. I tried to keep Artemis from the battle, but she insisted.” She paused to let the memory of that awful moment pass. “If you knew her at all, you know she wasn’t one to be told what to do.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Francesca nodded.

  Donna found Fitzhugh’s miserable face and focused on it. “Whoever takes her place on the throne will have an incredible legacy to live up to.” Many responded with nods. “She will be missed.”

  Donna touched the box, the metal cold and smooth under her fingertips. She said a prayer for Artemis’s soul, whatever that meant for a vampire, then went back to her seat.

  A few moments passed with no one new coming to speak, so Marcus stepped up again. “Thank you to everyone who spoke. And again to everyone who came. In just a few short minutes, we’ll reconvene in the great hall for the reading of the queen’s will.”

  He picked up the box and left via the center aisle.

  Slowly, the guests began to filter back into the great hall as well. Donna hung back, in part to watch where Fitzhugh went. She didn’t relish running into him. But she also wanted a moment away from everyone. Not her staff or friends, just the rest of those who’d come.

  Francesca approached her. “Nicely put. Whoever takes the throne will absolutely have an impressive legacy to live up to.” A sly smile bent her mou
th. “I do not think that will be a problem for you, however.”

  Donna shook her head. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know you didn’t.” Francesca touched her arm. “See you inside, Governor.”

  As Francesca left, the rest of Donna’s crew joined her.

  Pierce smiled. “You did great. Were you nervous?”

  “Yes.” No point lying about that. Anyone with eyes had probably seen her shaking. The tremors had certainly felt strong enough to be visible.

  Charlie’s brows were bent in a question. “Did you know Ishalan had sent her ashes?”

  “Not a clue.”

  Charlie exhaled. “That was quite a move on his behalf.”

  Donna nodded. “It was. And it reminds me that we really need to get working on setting up a blood bank for the fae. I told him I would. I don’t want to do anything to tarnish our relationship. Especially with what Ishalan has just done for me.”

  “Agreed. I’ll start drafting a proposal tonight, something we can disseminate amongst your constituency.”

  “That sounds good.” A sense of calm came over her suddenly. “We should go in and find a spot.”

  Temo frowned. “You sure they want all of us in there for the reading of the will?”

  Donna shrugged. “Marcus said everyone who attended the funeral service is invited. That’s all of us.”

  As a group, they moved into the great room and found a place to stand together toward the middle of the hall near the doors. Most of the seats were already taken, but Donna didn’t mind. The soft hum of speculation filled the room. Everyone was curious.

  Fitzhugh was up front but no longer alone. He had two others with him—a man and a very attractive redhead—both younger. Still no Claudette.

  Charlie leaned in. “That’s his admin, Quentin, and the woman must be his donor. I’m surprised he brought her, but then maybe she serves him and Claudette. Or served Claudette, as the case may be.”

  “You haven’t seen her either, then?”

  Charlie shook her head. “Nope. As they say in the UK, I think someone did a runner.”