Gator Baitin' (The Grateful Undead series Book 2)

by Susan Stec

  I can't see Christopher beside you. JoAnn's acrid voice jerked my eyes wide. You know the rules! Stay in pairs!

  I totally ignored her and pushed, Marcus, will you please find Jeni and get her in front of the damn computer.

  I felt him fondle mentally as JoAnn's cloying voice assaulted my eardrum. Darn it, Susan, answer me right now!

  I smiled at Mr. Parsons.

  "Well, we'll jus' stand right 'ere an' talk, so's we kin keep an eye on the lil' guy." David slid onto a rocking chair by the door and leaned back chugging another mouthful. He smiled at me behind the dirty hand he ran it across his mouth. My eyes scanned his sweat stained wife beater. He enhanced the picture by scratching his crotch.

  "So, why did your boss contact us?" I pressed, trying not to gag.

  "A gator 'scaped. Damned hard ta do since we got us a ten foot gate with a cee-ment border surroundin' the prop-a-tee."

  "You sure it's not hiding somewhere? I mean you have a lot of acreage here." I leaned against the porch rail and took in a contented breath, purely for pleasure. The only sound in my head was the crickets singing.

  David was intently watching the Suburban through one eye as he rubbed many days of stubble on his greasy chin. "Honey, we ain't never lost a fifteen-foot gator—two dozen men a-lookin' for a week."

  "Feet," I said.

  "'S'cuse me?" the caretaker asked as Marcus cut in. Darling, Jeni is indisposed and your sister is in a dither trying to keep up with both teams. I could take your mind off these trite inconveniences by sharing a few lascivious visions—generated by our last interlude—that I've been thinking about all day.

  Although my body got all weak and tingly, I tried to stay focused on Mr. Parsons, who was waiting for an answer in regard to the feet-foot blunder. "Never mind," I squeaked, listening to Marcus breathe heavily between my ears. "Dorius mentioned something about raccoons." I crossed my legs, squeezing the zing right out of my woman parts, and waited for a response.

  Okay Susan, JoAnn yelled in my ear. You leave me no alternative, if you don't answer me right now, I'm calling Mom.

  Marcus pushed, Be right back, my love, I think I need to have another conversation with your sister. I shuddered as the thought, ménage à trios, danced around in my brain.

  "Now that's the damnedest thing I seen in a looong time. Two coo-(hiccup)-oons, sleepin' right next ta a friggin' (hiccup) gator. 'Bout shat my pants, I did," he rubbed his stomach, "when I ree-lized they was stayn' alive (burp)." Mr. Parsons smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, missy, bean burritos I ate ain't sitting right wit me all-a-sudden."

  * * * *

  "So, what's up?" Christopher asked as I slid onto the front seat of the burb, yanking my headset from my ear.

  "I'll tell you what's up you little shit! I'm gonna kick your ass into the nearest gator pond. That's what's up!" I glowered.

  "Come on. I just played my part."

  I glowered some more, then started the car and headed for the theme park.

  Gibbie and the wolf rounded a clump of bushes as we finished walking the last mile of fence—no sign of the gator. We'd even checked the reptiles that were where they were supposed to be and none of them had glowing red eyes.

  There are no immortal animals on the property. JoAnn stated through the earplug speaker. I've told you at least ten times to look outside the back gate. There were several there. They're gone now. For crying out loud!—are you not listening to me?

  I rubbed my whole damn face. The onset of a migraine was making me dizzy.

  JoAnn just wouldn't let up. Wrap it up and get out to Faith World. There's a bunch of glowing eyes out there. I've already sent Mort to the lake behind the church but you know how slow he is.

  I continued to ignore her. "You guys find anything?"

  "Yeah, Paul got a scent." Gibbie's fluttering wings treaded air. "Looks like the gator in question climbed the fence headed toward town." He buzzed around my head, then flitted away and landed on the wolf's back.

  Paul was huge in wolf form. Weighing in at over two hundred pounds, he posed a big threat when angered. He was almost solid black with white flicked on the underside of his ears and a diamond-shaped pattern on his chest. He had crystal blue eyes and stark white teeth, very long and sharp. I gave the hair behind his ears a scratch. For some reason I really liked him in wolf form.

  Paul shook from muzzle to tail, nosed my leg, snorted, and then padded off.

  "I think we should check out the back fence like JoAnn asked earlier," Christopher said in an antagonistic voice that I totally ignored.

  The wolf lifted its hind leg, pissed on a bush, kicked up some grass, and padded back over to us.

  Christopher hit the call button on his walkie-talkie. "Heading out to the woods."

  I said the church! JoAnn was really pissed.

  Gibbie buzzed off in the direction of the back fence. I glared at Christopher. He smiled sweetly.

  Marcus sang, Here we go a-gator-hunting, gator-hunting, gator-hunting…

  ~~~

  Chapter 3

  I'm just a vamp whose intentions are good

  ~~~

  After searching for the missing gator to no avail, we headed for Faith World Church about six miles from Gatorland, in Kissimmee. With Paul's help we followed a scent trail of vamp-animals across the street, down a few blocks, and right up to the front door of room 13 at the Hide-A-Way motel.

  The four of us stood in the room, our eyes glued to a wall over a blood-spattered headboard. Rhymes as red as the blood-stained sheets were written on the wall, two dead bodies displayed on the bed under them.

  When we'd arrived, six little immortal animals were slurping up blood from the victims. Now they were on the floor at the foot of the bead, heads severed from their bodies.

  Examining the human remains, it was clear the animals were not responsible for their deaths. I was sure the smell of blood had attracted them to the room.

  "Oh God, tell me a rogue vampire didn't make this mess?" I leaned over the bodies as Paul—in wolf form—sniffed the bed. He snorted, and headed for the bathroom.

  "Rogues wouldn't leave a mess like this." Christopher stood by the bed assessing the situation.

  I looked at the blood-decorated walls.

  At the gates of the kingdom of Hell

  Those damned will ring the bell

  The man is a fornicator

  The woman a sinner

  It's not my fault I had to skin her

  "Lousy poet, right?" Christopher said.

  "Frankincense—smells like demon to me," Gibbie squeaked, darting around the room, sparkles of red glitter flying everywhere.

  My head jerked in his direction. "What the hell do you mean a demon? How do you know that?"

  "I can smell it." Gibbie hovered over the bodies. "Not to mention the bad rhyming they're known for."

  Christopher licked his fingers. "Yeah, and this protection circle. The salt is a dead giveaway."

  That explained the circle by a small table near the window.

  Paul strutted out of the bathroom in human form, naked, and I clamped my mouth shut to keep from drooling.

  My eyes flashed to the flagpole dancing under his stomach. "C'mon, grab a sheet damnit. I'm not fond of watching your wanger wobble."

  "Then don't watch." Paul's lips quivered as he walked to a duffle bag on the floor and dug through it. "I'm not ashamed of my body. Susan."

  I averted my gaze to the wall of rhymes.

  Man of the cloth

  Sick but true

  Has no soul

  Give the devil his due

  My stupid eyes moved briefly in Paul's direction, just long enough to take in a bare butt bouncing over the duffle bag. I ground off another layer of tooth enamel before asking, "So, I take it this guy is a priest?"

  "Not a priest, a pastor at Faith World." Paul scratched an identification card against my elbow.

  I snatched it, my eyes never leaving the man on the bed. His chest was open from his throat to his low
er stomach, internal organs splayed across the sheets. The woman had his severed penis shoved down her throat. She was skinned from chest to stomach. I moaned my disgust and averted my eyes to the smiling man on the ID card.

  Christopher ripped the card from my hands. I watched him carefully read it. "I think we should all head home before the police get here," he said through a six-year-olds mouth. "I need a few hours' sleep, because I think Susan and I should hang around the church grounds tomorrow. Sunday's a big day for the blessed. I want to make sure our little friends don't show up."

  * * * *

  "Tell me again why I'm sitting in a church with you standing on a pew beside me, when we're supposed to be outside watching for immortal wildlife?" I whispered, trying to distance myself from the parishioner sitting beside me.

  "I have a hunch about something. Just go with me on this, will ya?" Christopher answered, staring at the altar door, the same place everyone else in the whole freakin' church, except me, was watching.

  Tightening my jaw, I glared at the side of his face. "Christopher, this better not be one of your jokes. You have about three seconds to explain yourself or I'm out of here." My lips were grazing his ear.

  Christopher pushed my red curls off his cheek, eyes glued on the altar. "You hate Dorius, right? Well this is all about Dorius and one of his ambitions."

  The door in question flung open, piano music softly cascaded toward us, the choir started humming, and a tall, thin woman in a black clingy knit dress twinkle toed out singing, "Hal-le-luuu-jah. Haaal-le-luu-u-jah…"

  I wasn't the only one in the room who wasn't breathing.

  Christopher turned to me with a cocky grin. "Dorius has followed that woman's family for over thirty years." He pointed at the charismatic woman strutting across the altar.

  I looked around the church. Hands were flying, people shouting, music blaring from speakers over my head, and Christopher, his Sponge Bob tennis shoes clashing badly with his Spiderman shirt, was bouncing up and down trying to get a better view. He was buying smiles and winks from the faithful followers on either side of us. One even handed him a peppermint. He gingerly took it and popped it in his mouth with a toothy smile.

  I pulled a brochure out of the little box attached to the pew in front of me and stared at the picture of Pastor Julie Powers on the cover. Curious, I studied the woman prancing around on the altar.

  Pastor Powers' raven hair, slick and smooth, fanned out around her tiny waist as she bounded up and down the stage showing off her lithe body.

  And it was a stage, with fifty choir members, a baby grand piano with a sexy blond guy in a tux sitting at it, a director, cameras, and enough electronics to make The Grateful Dead look small-time; it was very impressive.

  At both exits stood armed security guards, hands tucked under their armpits, crew cut heads scanning the room with watchful eyes. I glanced behind us at a balcony with a glassed-in room and two-way mirrors. This was quite an operation. It screamed big bucks.

  The pastor was waving a microphone clutched in long white fingers as she strutted around getting everyone cranked. She pulled it to her lips and in a breathy voice whispered, "Hallelujah…"

  The whole room turned reverent on me, including Christopher. He stopped bouncing and just gawked at her, his fingers pressed to his lips, his cheek puffed out with the peppermint.

  I instantly disliked the woman. Don't ask me why. I'm sure the ticket taker manning the pearly gates will point me straight down the hallway to Hell.

  Pastor Julie swung the damn microphone at the audience, pulled it back to her bright red lips, parted them sensually and, just when I thought she was going to pull a Debbie does Dallas, she bellowed in a deep sexy voice, "I feel the Holy Spirit all over this place."

  Everyone in the room but me shouted, "Amen!" including Christopher.

  "Brothers and sisters, the devil will not get in here tonight! Oh, no, not tonight. He's not welcome. Can I hear, 'Praise God'?" she asked, leaning low enough for me to see half of a soft pink areola.

  Every warm body in the church stood, hands raised in front of them, heads nodding, as one big "Praise God" bounced off the walls.

  Okay, so I remember Woodstock. I was half-dressed in tie-dyed muslin, stoking a dubee, long red curls hanging about my half naked chest, screaming encouragements at the bands on the stage with the rest of the hippies. And let me tell you, we had nothing on this group. Maybe I needed a joint to appreciate Julie Powers, 'cause the bitch was doing nothing for me.

  Christopher, on the other hand, was holding his little hands high, fingers splayed, palms toward the vile woman as he swayed from one foot to the other in a catatonic state.

  I grabbed his Spidey T-shirt and pulled his ass down on my lap.

  "This woman seems to be mesmerizing these people, including you," I hissed in his ear. "Why is Dorius so interested in her? Tell me she's not another possible blood-mate."

  One of the women in front of us turned around, giving me 'behave yourself' eyes. "The pastor is anointed in only God's blood, Sister."

  Okay, so maybe I was speaking a bit too loud. "I'm sure she is, sister. She's clearly anointed with something."

  Christopher stood up, put his arm around my neck, kissed me on the top of my head and said, "Mommy, that woman makes my pee-pee tingle."

  The woman in front of us gasped. Christopher smiled at her and grabbed the front of his shorts, holding on tight, his face contorted. He craned his neck, moistened his lips and began to sway with the music, staring at Pastor Julie with rapt attention.

  The woman in front of us quickly turned around.

  A man sitting two warm bodies down from us leaned out and smiled at me. "That boy of yours is just full of the spirit! Praise God, sister! You are blessed!"

  After I paid special attention to the seven hair strands in the middle of his bald head, my eyes dropped to his face. "Thanks, I've been blessed since his first feeding."

  Christopher dug his nails into my neck.

  "The Lord has council with those he chooses. So be the Lord!" The bald guy smiled at Christopher and sat back.

  Dorius' first candidate for blood-mate is what got me and the other women in my family into this mess, and I wasn't about to screw around with his second candidate. "Is she a possible blood-mate? I'm not going to make trouble for Dorius again, Christopher."

  "I don't believe she's a mate or he'd of had her by now." Christopher climbed onto my hip, walked his little foot up the pew in front of us and before I could stop him, toed a big purple hat, covered in enough fall foliage to feed a pack of squirrels, off the ladies head in front of us. She juggled it a second then turned to glare at him briefly, because Pastor Julie was off and running again.

  "Let's all sing my favorite song. Steven, you know the one." Julie nodded at the blond guy behind the piano.

  I felt like the odd man out when the room exploded, feet stomping, hands waving as the crowd began to sing with her, "We're gonna stomp that devil right out of our house… out of our house… OUT OF OUR HOUSE!"

  "Oh, God," I cringed, trying to keep from getting slapped or stomped.

  Susan, where the heck are you and Christopher? My sister asked. Damn those earbuds had good transmission.

  "We're in Church running down a lead," I whispered behind a cuffed palm.

  Christopher turned nasty eyebrows at me. I glared back.

  Well, check in as soon as you can. She sounded really sweet, almost sing-songy. You can stay in church just as long as you want. You might even learn something.

  Before I could tell my sister just where she could put that statement, Pastor Julie shouted, "The devil will never show his face in my home! No, people, we are safe tonight! Everybody in this room, raise your hands to heaven! Let us give thanks to my Lord! Let's give praise to the King! Come on, people, I can't hear you!"

  Christopher let out a war whoop that made my head spin for a good five or ten seconds. The rest of the crowd, in competition, joined him. With way too many, Praise t
he Lord's, Hallelujah's, and Yesss God's, I swooned with hammering eardrums.

  "Let's ask my Lord to forgive the sins we have committed today! Come up and receive his blessings. The Bible says, 'Ask and ye shall receive.' So let's ask, people! Come, I will cleanse you with the blood of our Lord. I want a clean army of followers!" She motioned to the choir as she headed toward the steps that led down to the first row of pews, her eyes on Christopher.

  The music lowered. Hundreds of humans swayed back and forth, hands raised, eyes closed. My damn partner one of them. He dipped back and forth, a soft hum coming from his mouth, eyes in closed concentration.

  I looked around at the cameras mounted on the walls and cringed.

  "Hey, you, open your frigging eyes and… Christ, what the hell is that language you're spouting?" I asked, looking at him with hooded eyes.

  Christopher was jabbering gibberish, getting the attention of everyone within hearing distance.

  "The boy is speaking in tongues!" the bald man shouted.

  All heads turned in our direction. I was about to grab Christopher and run when he leapt from the pew and headed for the altar. The sea of worshipers parted to let him pass, me scurrying to keep up.

  Christopher stood swaying in front of Pastor Julie Powers. I tried to reach for him, but the crowd was too thick. Everyone was chanting, "Jesus. Yes, Jesus." They all swayed, hands chest level. It was a frigging nightmare.

  I climbed up on the first pew as the pastor laid her hand on his small forehead. She said a few words and he dropped smoothly to the floor, a big smile on his face.

  I bullied my way over to him, the crowd yelling praise and everyone reaching to touch him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw three guards approaching us. I looked up, making eye contact with the woman in the black dress. Her bright red lips parted in a grin. My body involuntarily shook from head to toe.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, after checking in with JoAnn, we were following two squirrels, a raccoon, and a porcupine with glowing eyes.

  "So, is the pastor a vampire?" I asked Christopher as we hunkered in an alley waiting for a pedestrian to pass.

  "I don't know. She smells like a human mingled with something else. She was covered in a citrus scent, so it was hard to place. And when I hit the floor in a dead faint, it was really a dead faint. It scared the crap out of me."