Coffin Fit (The Grateful Undead series Book 4)

by Stec, Susan

  Mom snagged her. "What did you do; loofa the skin right off your face?"

  JoAnn looked like a cherry tomato.

  "No!" my sister yelled.

  Mom yanked the neckline of JoAnn's t-shirt and shoved her face over the top to get a glimpse of my sister's chest. "Santa Merda! How can something so small sag so much?"

  JoAnn jerked the collar out of Mom's fingers.

  My mother looked over at me. "Either she used the electric sander, or she worked hard at loofaing up an orgasm."

  I tucked my lips and watched Mom's lewd comment work my sister into a dither.

  "I did not loofa my . . . anything!" JoAnn's shoulders reached up for her cheeks. "And we don't have a sander, do we?"

  I said, "I'll buy one, and give you fifty bucks if you try it."

  "Susan, shut the hell up," Mom said. "What did you do to yourself, JoAnn?"

  In a little voice, JoAnn said, "I laid in Susan's old tanning bed. I was only gonna do fifteen minutes, but I fell asleep."

  My brain froze.

  "Somewhere, somehow, you destroyed the three brain cells you were born with." Mom's second chin wobbled as she spoke. "You're a V-A-M-P-I-R-E. That spells immortal. You just don’t get it. You wore a cross up until it branded your chest and, like an idiot, tried to fit in tanning sessions."

  "It's not the same as the sun, Mom," my sister said. "I can't believe y'all don't know that."

  I was gobsmacked.

  "And everyone knows you look younger with a tan." JoAnn gave us a holier-than-thou look.

  Mom leaned against the refrigerator, covered her fangs with a hand, and slid to the floor.

  JoAnn's lips tightened. Her eyes smote us. "I'll brown up by morning, just you wait and see, and then y'all'll be standing in line for a turn in the tanning bed. I, however, will be three shades ahead of you."

  "You'll be fucking ashes by then." Mom tossed her hand in the air and looked away.

  "What'd I miss?" Christopher asked as he entered from the sliding glass doors off the back porch.

  I pointed at my sister's face. "JoAnn has been tanning her aging away."

  Mom was sitting on the floor, fleshy arms propped on each knee.

  Marcus picked that time to mind push me. Darling, I was just thinking about you. We have split up, Warren and I are working the tourist areas on the island, and I wish I could share this with you.

  Aw, how sweet. I felt all warm and tingly, until he continued. Dorius and the rogue hunters are combing the mountain range to make the wolves aware of our arrival. He is not himself. And I felt the need to mention how essential it is that you and Christopher stay on target, this time.

  Well, that sure got my hackles up. The gums around my fangs were tingling. Marcus, what do you mean I better stay on target this time? I so much wished I could break something.

  Listen to me, Susan. Dorius has ordered the Italian satori to placate the individual comuni by assuring them that he has control of the situation in the United States and, therefore, quite capable of handling the one in Italy. I suggest you prove him correct or he will be forced to take drastic measures with regards to the position he is in.

  Fang-boy, I poked hard, you know what I'm fantasizing about right now?

  Darling, this is hardly the time to-

  I'm fantasizing how I'm going to stake you when you get home, I pushed, in your sleep or during sex.

  Marcus's sigh filled my head with more hot air. I'm only thinking about you, love. I don't want you to be held accountable if Christopher disobeys my brother again. Keep him in line and working on reducing central Florida's infected wildlife, not looking for ways to one-up my brother. Send Dorius daily reports, and for the love of blood, keep his mate safe.

  I guess we shouldn't bring up Betty's close call when she arrived tonight, right? I felt my lips turn up so high, my teeth were showing.

  Is she unharmed? Marcus sounded like Papa Bear after finding his porridge gone. Where is she right now?

  She's fine. Probably still out in the garage with Sonny, checking on the three alphas we caged. I'm not your brother's wife's keeper ya know.

  "Are you having a brain-fuck moment with Marcus?" Christopher's words nipped my mischievousness, and must have raised a blood-blush on my cheeks because JoAnn didn't seem to want to hear my answer.

  My sister tucked the Walmart bag and the box of bendy straws between her elbow and chest and stuck a finger in each ear. "Y'all should be ashamed, talkin' sex in front of God and everybody! I'm going up to my coffin."

  "Not sex this time," I told Christopher, ignoring my sister's exit. "Marcus was filling me in on the Italy mission." My mate's rumbles dissipated into nothingness. Marcus was out of my head.

  "They've just started working the island of Corsica. They're gonna scare up some wolf attention, then meet with the council again," I continued. "Dorius lied his ass off. He told the Italian bigwigs he has JoAnn's furry little mistakes under control over here and expects to nail that down by fixing the issue over there in his homeland."

  "Yeah, right," Mom said. "I'm thinking we're going to have to help him save face, as usual, and, as usual, get no credit for it."

  Before I could further support my mother's statement, my wandering eyes caught JoAnn in the kitchen. She'd put her stash on the edge of the Formica counter and was setting a standup magnifying mirror beside it. She reached into a drawer at the end of the counter and pulled out a tub of cocoa butter, aloe lotion and slathered a thick layer over her face. The lotion floated in front of her translucent, ghost-like face. I decided not to comment on the lack of reflection and turned to suggest we should all knuckle down and get serious about critter control no matter how good Dorius benefited from it. Christopher beat me to it.

  "I've been thinking about Dorius's situation," my partner said, stroking Marcus's nightmare. "I have an idea how we can get the critter job done here, your aging issues fixed in Hell with Raphael, and get to Italy in time to save Dorius's ass."

  "I am not going to piss Dorius off again, Christopher!"

  Son-of-a-bitch, I was livid. Marcus was gonna be livid, too. I mentally imagined my mate ferociously rebuking any plan Christopher could come up with.

  "You don't have to worry, Susan," Christopher said. "I do that enough for both of us. I'll lay out my plans when everyone gets here."

  "Unfortunately, being as you're my Critter Control partner, I'm always frying in the aftermath of your brain-dead recipes for disaster."

  "Do we not always come out on the right side of each and every mission I take charge of?" Christopher asked. "And does Dorius always come out on the wrong side?"

  "Yes! And that's exactly what I'm concerned about. This is big for Dorius. He loses face in Italy; we lose our asses here in the U-S of A. I'm not going down with you again."

  "We help Sonny and Betty round up and kill more fanged wildlife first." My mother exuded authority. She didn't wear it very long.

  "Right, Chick," Christopher said. "First we get through tonight's meeting, then tackle Resi's testing with the alphas, and finally my passport—I hear the blackened demon in Hades is to die for. Then we can get to Italy via Susan's witchy powers. I know this rustic, big-game lodge in Sicily where it's open season for Wolf."

  * * *

  "We have not seen a sign or caught a scent of the wolf pack, or Karl, the pack leader. However, Marcus just reported a sighting of Randy." Dorius slid a cell phone into his jeans as he addressed the men huddled outside a cave opening at the base of a heavily wooded mountain range near the small town of Zacavo on the island of Corsica.

  "That's Karl's second in command, right?" Camillo said.

  "Yes," one of the Italian rogue hunters said; a short, thick immortal, with piercing eyes and snarling lips. He continued in Italian. "Randy is big, impressive, and very noticeable to anyone while in wolf or human form. His fur is black—only gray wolves live in our mountains—and his human skin is black. Visibility for Randy is not normal behavior, but it is common to occasional
ly witness a gray wolf from the pack."

  "Why didn't Marcus take him down?" Camillo asked Doris.

  "Marcus did not see the wolf himself. One of the seasonal shop owners did; an Italian from Sardinia, named Miguel Fatibene. He owns Seadoo rental shops on Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica. He's one of our local moles. We support his businesses; he keeps an eye on wolf deaths on the island. He spotted Randy at the Résidence Les Calanques hotel four miles from Ajaccio on the Mediterranean Sea.

  "Miguel told Warren that a black wolf boarded a freighter from the end of a leash held by a local commerciante; a Frenchman named Villard Fouquet. The freighter services all three islands from the mainland."

  "Are we going after him?" Camillo asked.

  "Not yet." Dorius grabbed his bedroll and nodded toward the cave. "With Marcus's news, I am inclined to believe the pack has relocated to one of the other islands."

  "Do you think Randy knows we're here?" Camillo asked.

  "Absolutely. And I have no doubt he made sure my brother knew where he was headed." Dorius looked at his men. "They set this up on their turf, and I'm betting they hoped we'd bite the bait."

  "The sun will be up soon in Milan. I'd better brief the council, and then call Chick," Dorius said to Camillo while the other vampires unrolled bed roles.

  Camillo nodded.

  "Tomorrow we regroup and head back to Milan. If the council wants us to become more aggressive, we will return." Dorius turned back toward the mouth of the cave. "With reinforcements."

  ~~~~

  EIGHT

  ~~~~

  "What did Dorius have to say?" I asked, and slid in next to Christopher at the picnic table.

  It was hours before sunup, and the night was speckled with stars. An owl hooted from one of the cypress trees lining the lake off our patio.

  Mom turned away from the front windows and ambled across the living room toward the picnic table set between two sets of sliding glass doors. It was where we usually gathered for the meetings. The doors were open, and that night, the lake breeze was scented with roses and jasmine.

  "The wolves know the rogue hunting team is there," Mom said. She placed an arthritic hand against the center of her lower back and leaned into it. I heard bones crack. She was barefoot and wearing black Speedo shorts and a baggy black V-neck tee. Her legs were skinny, and her midsection was rounder than her ass. "One of the members got on a boat in broad daylight, leading a huge black wolf, collared and leashed."

  Mom groaned her way into a spot at the picnic table. "That little show got the locals talking. Dorius thinks they were trying to lure them to some secluded island. But he didn't take the bait and follow the boat. They're all headed back to Milan as soon as Dorius and Marcus meet up later tonight. From what Dorius says, it's gonna end up some big ass war if the wolves don't buck up and call a meeting with the council."

  Jake moaned and his body tensed. The dragon-shifter wiggled uncomfortably on a stool at the breakfast bar.

  Betty was sitting on the stool beside him. "You're not going to start farting or shooting flames, are you?" she asked.

  Jake blushed; smoke wafted from his nostrils. "No," he squeaked. "I don't do that anymore. I'm taking antacids and a proton pump inhibitor, omeprazole. It helps with gas."

  As usual, Gibbie was perched on the ceiling fan, feet hanging, hair billowing about his face as the blades turned at medium speed. "You need to add a benzodiazepine medication," the fairy squeaked. "I suggest Xanax. Bye-bye stress; no more panic attacks."

  Jake scrunched up his face and averted his gaze.

  Gibbie's high-pitched voice grated my nerves when he got longwinded.

  "So, Chick," Christopher said, bringing me back to the meeting, "What's the plan?"

  Christopher was sitting on top of the table and leaned against the wall it was butted up against between the sliding doors.

  Mom tried to cross her legs, but her stomach got in the way. "There is only one plan," she said. "We need to gain control of the infected animals on this side of the Atlantic, and we need to do it pronto. I know we should probably wait for Resi and Zaire to get the alphas ready, but I want to do at least one round up and destroy a night. Call them practice rounds. Sonny goes out, does a roundup, and the rest of us do the destroy part. This way, we can see what works best. When the girls get the alphas mind's adjusted, we'll be able to send them out to a few cities like Vegas—anywhere we think JoAnn's offspring have spread."

  "That's a great idea, Connie," Sonny said. "The alphas in other cities, I mean. Well, all of it, but putting the mind-manipulated creatures in another city to see if they can attract and destroy is brilliant! That would be very effective in other countries—" Sonny cleared his throat and paused. "—um, should the need arise."

  Sonny, just under six-feet, fine sandy-colored hair and blue eyes, was wearing tan cargo shorts, a white golf tee, and leather loafers without socks. He stood half in and half out of the sliding door by the breakfast bar, and behind Betty. To look at him, you would think him at home on a sailboat soaking up the sun, instead of slithering through Florida's lush flora, a cold-blooded boa-constrictor, looking for a meal. Sonny was turned into a vampire-shifter by one of Joann's critters.

  "Damn, Chick," Betty said. "You almost—and I emphasize almost—make me understand why Dorius made you the boss of this operation."

  I stopped studying my cuticles and gave Betty a wry eye. "He did that to spite me."

  Betty, all pouty lips, blond hair and laughing eyes, was also a victim of one of JoAnn's critters—a hawk. Betty was a vamp-shifter as well. She wore a white terrycloth jumpsuit that accentuated her tiny waist, child-bearing hips, heart-shaped ass, and large chest. Elastic was the only thing holding the top part over and under her perky double Ds. She looked sexy in a Dolly Parton kind-of-way. Betty always wore high-wedged, cork and canvas espadrilles that showed off her cute feet, polished toes, and firm calves when she walked. Now that she was married to Dorius, she always had on large stone rings; expensive, but gaudy. And bangles of gold, diamonds and charms adorned her wrists, ears, and neck. Her actions authenticated a street-trash mentality, but her accouterments reeked wealthy.

  "I went out earlier, Chick," Sonny was saying. "There are hundreds of them congregated in the woods behind the barn. They all scampered up to me when I got close. The field looked like an animal version of Woodstock: big majorly dilated red eyes and swooning bodies whenever I spoke."

  "A rock star, huh? Let's call you Sonny Days." Jeni's laugh was lyrical. She was standing in the kitchen near my brewing coffee pot. The smell made my mouth water. I wanted to cry. "I'm down with surveillance," my daughter said as she pulled a cup out of the cupboard. "I just talked to Paul. He'll be here within the hour. He's bringing friends. Oh, and Mort is out by the dock, ready for instructions."

  "What friends?" Gibbie wanted to know. The fairy was up on both feet, sword pulled, toes hanging over the edge of the fan paddles, and wings buzzing to keep his balance. "Better not be the elf tribe behind Little Joe's on the other side of the lake! Or the fairy cluster by the docks in Lake Eustis. I like being independent, and they've been sending messages by dragonfly for two months now. I am not going back. They even showed up at the convention! Said I'd be an asset warding off Elves pilfering their gardens. Bringing other fae into this will set me back a whole year of trying to break loose."

  "Why would Paul bring in other fairies?" I asked Gibbie and Jeni.

  Jeni said, "I don't know who he's bringing."

  "I'll be back!" Gibbie bolted for the open door and out onto the screened porch before Mom could do more than raise her arm to stop him.

  "Dove'e il rispetto?" Mom said. "No one listens to me."

  "We listened. Some of us praised. Others corrected." I grinned before nibbling a flap of the cuticle from one of my fingers. "You just said there wasn't much more to tell," I further taunted.

  Mom slapped the table when I leaned out to watch Gibbie dart across the back porch and through a hole in the
screen door. "Perche preoccuparsi?" she mumbled sarcastically, her hand shaking at the ceiling. "Why? Why? Nobody listens, anyway."

  Sonny was watching Gibbie, too. "You girls really should fix that screen. Mosquitos, spiders, gnats, tree frogs, coral snakes . . ."

  "Jesus!" I shivered. I hated snakes, and spiders gave me the creeps.

  "Suzabella!" Mom said, actuating the Bella. "Tomorrow, take your spider-fearing, snake-dreading ass out there and fix that screen. Get the fairy to help you." Mom grinned.

  I hissed and then glared at her. I hated that nickname, and she knew it. Hell, everybody knew it. Her father had dubbed me Suzabellaluna because it made my mother smile, but not because he loved me. He had told me many times how much he hated me because he knew when his daughter gave birth to me that she would never leave me, or my father, for him. The rest of the family shortened it to Suzabella.

  Sonny, the resident snake shifter, winked at me. His blue eyes went all reptilian-freaky as he reached over and tapped the dragon on the knee. Eyes still on me, he said, "Jake, you want to help me fix the arachnophilia-ophidiophobe's nightmare portal tomorrow morning?"

  Jake nodded. He looked tense. But then Jake always looked tense. A thin strand of smoke came out his left nostril, and the ceiling fan blew it invisible.

  "Shouldn't you be hitting the sack?" I asked Jeni.

  "I just told you I was helping Aunt JoAnn do surveillance tonight, Mother. Keep up." She blew on her coffee and took a noisy sip.

  I wanted to say something snarky; like maybe Paul being here for the hunt had absolutely nothing with her sudden change in priorities. But thought better of it, because the truth was, Jeni did need to do surveillance. I just smiled at her.

  Resi and Zaire entered the kitchen. Zaire gave Mom an angry nod. I didn't miss the raised eyebrow my mother shot back. It was the same one I got as a kid when she wanted me to stop whatever I was about to do.

  Zaire's expression didn't budge.