Coffin Fit (The Grateful Undead series Book 4)

by Stec, Susan

  "Really, Mom," my daughter said, "it looks like you took an egg beater to it."

  "Don't be a smart-ass," I said.

  "Sorry," Resi said. "I didn't sleep well. Nanna had workmen putting in aluminum shutters all day. My room was pitch black when I got up.

  "Not mine," I said. "I guess she thought putting metal doors over my French doors would attract too much attention. I didn't sleep either. They made one hell of a racket—love the doublewides, though. You?"

  "Hell yes!" Zaire said. "If Chick hadn't dragged in the workers to batten down the fort, I could've woke up next to my girl." She dragged Resi close and playfully bit her neck.

  Resi giggled, pushed Zaire away, and brushed her hair back into place. "Tonight, sweetie."

  "Yeah. I see she didn't do the kitchen pass through either," Christopher said, his gaze moving to me. "But the front windows are air tight. I bet JoAnn sleeps all night."

  My partner was still fishing for where I was when he was conspiring with Lily.

  "Yeah, I got up at the crack of darkness. Thought I'd do a little hunting. I miss it." I looked longingly at my compound bow mounted by the fireplace. "Snagged a doe, did the suck and release thing—nice breeze on the lake—heard you guys up here and decided to come in from the dock. Mort says hello," I lied, but it bought me a smile from Christopher.

  I casually turned to see myself in the glass door, but there wasn't enough of an image. Randomly raking the carrot-red tendrils of mass hysteria into what I hoped was an assembly of order, I said, "So, who was asking about our internet?"

  Without a blink, Christopher answered, "Lily. She's hoping her hPhone works as well here as it does in Hades. They just got high-speed Abyss to Earth there."

  When I turned back to him, Christopher glanced toward Resi and Zaire.

  "Is she coming up soon?" I prodded.

  I could tell by the twitch of his jaw that the snarky pitch of my voice gave me away, but Christopher held it together. "Hope so," he said without turning to me, then asked the girls, "So what happened with the idiot and his gun this morning?"

  Resi lit up and started to answer, but Zaire beat her to it. "Stupid fucker. He saw JoAnn sell a bag of white pills, and then bite the guy and drag him into the Ford Explorer. Said he wanted a piece of Aunt Jo for fucking with his friend, but I'm thinking he wanted a big chunk of Jo's stash—pissed me off. Fucker shot me close range with a .22 caliber handgun, and stood there, mouth open, as the big hole from his hollow point healed. He freaked like he was trippin' on acid."

  While Zaire laughed—I loved her laugh: rich, heavy, and sexy—Resi jumped in.

  "He might've been high on meth—who knows? No one sane walks blind right into another person's garage," Resi said. "Anyway, long story short. I was able to wipe his mind clean of the event, and I tossed in some education and morals after hearing he has three sisters under twelve counting on him, and a mother getting out of Life Stream after an overdose ten days ago. Our boy will not only be turning over a new leaf but staying at the family apartment off Orange, in Eustis, to take care of things. I think JoAnn saved his life—maybe his mother's—by leading him back here."

  Zaire had been standing next to Resi, tongue in cheek, black biker boot tapping the oak floor while waiting her turn. She was wearing her usual attire: tight jeans, black wife-beater, and a thick leather belt. Her ebony hair, silky smooth, framed her face, and cloud-gray eyes stormed under long black lashes. Zaire was a beautiful black-skinned woman in her mid-forties when Resi turned her into an immortal, and, unlike us, she was still looking twentyish. Raphael's curse was not affecting her immortality.

  Zaire pulled her eyes off Resi, and sarcastically, and nasal-like, said, "Like I was sayin'. The stupid fucker—crying like a second place beauty queen—snot blabbed all that information as we tied him up and tossed him in Aunt Jo's Explorer. After he had hit us with the Eustis address, I drove while Resi cleaned house." She chuckled. "Boy had a real epiphany."

  "What boy had an epiphany?" my mother said as she came in the front door. "Tell me it was Paul, and he's decided to jump Jeni's bones."

  "How long you been up, Mom?" I asked, and glanced at Christopher to see if the morning news would generate a reaction, when I added, "And where have you been?"

  Christopher didn't seem to care at all that my mother could have been the neck-sucking old woman at Shady Pines in the wee hours of the evening.

  "I've been up long enough," Mom said, "and it's none of your business where I go—girl's gotta eat."

  "You mean an old lady's got to eat, right, Chick?" Christopher said.

  I sneered at him. He'd heard the news report. He'd even turned it up during the conversation with Lily. The two of them had become really chummy since they went on that road trip to New Orleans together to find our last rogue. I don't think any of us knows exactly what went down between them, but they sure did respect each other's needs now.

  My mother snorted at my partner, and then asked, "So, what boy was epiphanying all over the place earlier?" Mom asked Zaire again.

  "Epiphanying is not a word, Mom," I said. "I just heard an early evening news report about a neck-sucking old lady at Shady Pines. That wouldn't have been you, would it?"

  "The guy was some druggie that came snooping around last night, Chick," Christopher interrupted. "Resi and Zaire took him home and erased his mind."

  "Whoever it was, whatever you did," Mom said, totally ignoring the question I'd asked and my partner had so cleverly misdirected, "you better not have fucked the pooch. I have enough to worry about with half my team going into some underworld sewer place this week."

  "No problem, Chick," Zaire said. "It went as smooth as your Walmart trip."

  "Speaking of that trip, you didn't make another stupid trip this morning, did you?" I was getting pissed. "I think we all need to watch the eleven o'clock news to see if you made the most wanted list."

  Christopher smiled at me.

  Mom didn't even look in my direction. She shook a finger at Zaire and opened her mouth to refute Zaire's remark, but the clock in the living room cuckooed once, marking seven-thirty, and our ceiling in the living room opened a portal right over our heads.

  We all stepped back a couple of feet.

  Black and churning, a funnel slowly appeared beneath the black hole, flipping the pages of a stack of magazines on the glass-top coffee table mounted above our stuffed gator.

  Red curls beating my cheeks, I looked up as Lily glided from the mini-tornado and onto the center of our living room floor. The small funnel whooshed back up into the black abyss, and the ceiling mended itself behind it.

  With really angry eyes and arms flying, Mom turned to Christopher. "That little devil's father and mother and Dorius better know she's here."

  "She's only visiting for twenty-four hours, Chick." Christopher's words were rushed. "Her father won't be around to find out she's been gone. Lord Rahovart, Tormentor of the Affluent and Companion of Satan, sent Raphael on a mission for about a week, Hell time, and Satan's companion is supposed to be demon sitting Lily. Lord Rahovart assisted us with our Earth-to-Abyss passports so we could try them out. We're good."

  Lily smiled brightly, violet eyes shimmering. She walked across the living room toward my mother, and her movements were fluid, graceful, agile, and enchanting. The layers of the little demon's gauzy dress caressed her thin legs to mid-calf. Leather-soft Mary Janes made no sound as she approached. Her dark hair was pulled up over her ears and flowed in soft waves across her shoulders and back. Lily was about an inch shorter than Christopher and had a child-like beauty that turned heads.

  As she stepped up to my mother, Lily asked, "How is the visually stimulating octogenarian in the family doing this fine, earthly evening? You look grand, Nanna." On her toes, she tugged my mother's arm until Mom bent over and Lily kissed each cheek.

  Hands now behind her back, Lily rocked in front of my mother. "I think I like you better this way, Great-grandmother. Has my mother aged as well? I certa
inly hope so. That would be delightful."

  "Send her back," Mom said, arm up, finger pointing at the place on the ceiling where the black hole had been. "JoAnn's right upstairs, and we all know she can't keep a secret. Dorius will know Lily's here before that cuckoo cuckoos again."

  * * *

  "And you trust your team of carnevale sideshow freaks to take on a mission of this, this Grandezza of importance?" Karl asked.

  "Explicitly," Dorius said. "Their quirky comportment leads to a mistaken disregard on the part of our targets. Their unique eccentricities have worked in our favor thus far. I will admit the newly acquired curse could be misconstrued as being more human Down Under, therefore gaining them unwanted attention. For that reason, some of the team will take a less aggressive position."

  "Al diavolo questo!" Razzo shouted, arms flying and fist pounding. "I'm'a no, how you say, no gonna backup no sideshow! I use'a tokens, an' into the fogne we go, eh? I give mine for United States viaggio an'a the good of the missione."

  "You will be making a big mistake," Marcus said. "If I am correct, you have all been Down Under in my country, and in Florida specifically, many times, gentiluomini, in both human and wolf form. It is said that you frequente Purgatory. You seem to enjoy the . . .atmosfera in the bar, si?"

  "Why should this have anything to do with our ability to find the doppelganger and get justice for Karl's son?" Randy asked.

  Before Marcus or Dorius could answer, Karl reigned in his wolves with very little pomp. "What Marcus is trying to say is we'd be recognized subito. The doppelganger has lived among us. He would be smoke in the wind while we chase our tails. We can't head the search, but we can," Karl locked eyes with Dorius, "and we will participate in the battle."

  Dorius had been running fingers down the side of his goatee, twirling the tip between his thumb and index finger with each pass. "Assolutamente!" he said, and adjusted his bolo. "I will be telling my team to stand down, report only, and then follow without engagement until we arrive. We will all be participating." Dorius smiled at Karl. "But our participation will be limited. Not one of us, or all of us collectively, is capable of destroying the doppelganger. This can only be accomplished by its elders."

  Dorius paused, letting that sink in, then continued. "Fortunately, for us, Marcus and I have a history with a doppelganger elder. Therefore, I feel it's of great significance my brother is the first to go Down Under to speak with this ally. His task will be to schedule a meet, which will include the rest of us, so we can all take part in deriving a plan of attack. Destroying the doppelganger is of the utmost importance to all of us."

  Dorius's eyes circled the four men and one woman scattered uncomfortably around the parlor. "Need I remind you, we may never get a chance like this again? I do not wish to make unnecessary mistakes which could put others in jeopardy should we not handle this correctly.

  "I am well aware, as we all are, that it is unsure how any of this will go down," Dorius paused only a second before adding, "but I think we all agree this creature must be destroyed. It is not the first time our family has had run-ins with it."

  Dorius turned to glance at Antoinette, and Marcus seized the opportunity to explain further. "This doppelganger seems to be fond of our sister, and has tried to possess her several times in the last seven hundred years. To what end we do not know. We do know that it prefers doubling up on men, and often does the original human no harm. It favors killing human women while wearing its male hosts."

  * * *

  "Well, hey there, sweet thang," Betty said from the kitchen. "I was born and raised in the south, sugar, and I can honestly say I ain't seen nothin' as sweet as you. That smile of yours is gonna break some hearts darlin'. Come on over here, sugar', and let your Aunty Betts get a good look at ya."

  Lily tilted her head, forced a smile, and lowered her chin. "Elizabeth," Lily said, and then forced another smile. "We are not actually related. However, I can understand your thinking we could be. I am acutely mindful my mate imbibed the blood from your veins and pleasures from your body. While my ability to understand your amusing mentality is quite entertaining, I will not contribute to your delusion. We are not ancestrally related. Also, Elizabeth, although I know your education is excruciatingly limited, I feel a desire to mention it is quite impossible to break a heart with a smile."

  "Well, hell," Betty said. "You go right on and think that, darlin'. You don't know nothin' about worldly things, and y'all are probably too young to know, anyhow." Betty laughed and addressed the rest of us in the room. "Damn right adorable, with a capital A. Mind-blowin', am I right?"

  "Not essentially as astounding as Dorius's awareness of my presence from the minute you entered the room, Elizabeth," Lily said.

  ~~~

  Fifteen

  ~~~

  Joe's Marina was a bar/restaurant/fish camp with cabins on Lake Harris—a straight shot across the lake by boat from the Stech house. They mostly rent out to locals who want to get away from the wife and kids, go on a weekend binge, and drive boats around the lake, fishing poles forgotten in a drunken stupor. On the weekends, you really needed to motor around the area with care, so as not to get involved in their aquatic rendition of bumper cars.

  Paul and Jeni's table was close to the arched entrance of the bar area. And the crowd, mostly bikers, a malodorous group, frequently exhibited robust conversation laced with obnoxious platitudes.

  Jeni's eyes squinted with each enthusiastic parlay. Her voice raised to be heard. "Just the fact that you plan on asking my mother where we can go with our relationship before taking my suggestions into consideration, ludicrous as it is, is unacceptable." Jeni glanced over a plate of grilled flounder, French fries, and coleslaw. She picked up her glass of Chianti and chugged. "I can understand the council. I don't like it, but I get it." She placed the wine glass on the table, hard enough to slop Chianti into her coleslaw bowl.

  Paul pushed the slice of lime hanging over the neck of his Corona into the frosty bottle and squished it on the inside of its lip before taking a sip. He set the bottle down softly on the table next to his fried grouper basket and studied Jeni's glaring eyes for several seconds before answering.

  A round of laughter that lasted as long as Paul's pause had Jeni rubbing her temples.

  "Jeni, we've been over this enough to let you know the severity of my demands. So, if swift, noncommittal intimacy is the road you are bound and determined to take—" Paul took a deep breath and sighed. "—I'm afraid this relationship is not going anywhere. We can't keep toying with our sexual desires and personal feelings if there is no future for us. I don't do casual sex, especially with humans, for reasons I've already disclosed. I will not risk your life and mine by being any more of a rogue than I already am. But most importantly, I will not take you into a romance that is destined to end tragically, or at the very least, with someone's feelings hurt."

  Jeni caught her breath, calm and as real as his statement. She laid her fork down next to her plate and slowly sipped her wine, signaling the waitress. "Maybe we should just step back for the time being. Let me do my research, and you do your job with everything that's going on both here and in Italy." She chugged Chianti from her wineglass, forked a mouthful of salad, munched, and swallowed.

  The waitress, a woman named Stella, sauntered up looking like she needed an introduction to a bar of soap. Her hair was ratted into something piled on her head that looked like a cat might hack up after having a personal hygiene moment. She smelled of fried fish, sour grease, cigarette smoke, unclean undies, and stale beer. Her nail polish was peeled back robin-egg blue. What was left of her lipstick filled in cracks above and beside a plastic smile. "How's the food, y’all? What else can I getcha?" she asked, pencil poised.

  "Nothing for me," Paul said, and lifted his brows at Jeni.

  Jeni lifted her almost empty glass of Chianti. "A carafe this time, please."

  Without a word, the waitress scribbled on their bill, did an about face, and headed into the noisy b
ar.

  As Jeni buttered a garlic knot, dripping in oil and still warm from the oven, she continued. "What say we promise, at this moment, to agree to disagree? That may change after time. It's been less than a year since I accepted my mother, aunt, sister and grandmother are vampires, who drink blood, and answer to a bunch of alabaster immortals that have been around longer than Jesus."

  A drop of butter melted down the bread and onto her fingers, and Jeni caught it with her tongue and then took a bite of the garlic roll. Inhaling a slow breath through her nose, she chewed with her eyes closed. "Um, dinner is delish. Eat Paul. We're good. Maybe I just need an attitude adjustment. I have never been good at being under my mother's thumb. It sticks in my craw, rankles; it's too personal, too chastening to take on right now."

  The waitress was heading toward the table, and Paul turned her way.

  Jeni's eyes scanned Stella's dirty white pumps, snagged pantyhose, and black short shorts.

  She was carrying a metal tray with Jeni's wine, a stack of clean ashtrays, a pile of small square napkins, and her ticket book. She refilled Jeni's glass and then set down the carafe. "Anything else, y'all?"

  "Thank you, Stella," Jeni said. "I think we're good."

  "Well, alrighty then," the waitress twanged, shoulders back, breasts extended, her eyes on Paul. "You let me know when you need another, sugar." Stella tapped Paul's Corona.

  Jeni smiled.

  Paul grinned. "What?"

  "So can we agree to disagree?" Jeni asked.

  "I know what you mean," Paul said.

  "About what?" Jeni asked.

  "I'm a rogue, remember?" Paul picked up his grouper and took a huge bite. A third of the sandwich was missing when he put it back into the basket.

  Jeni laughed as he chewed. "At least I haven't spoiled your appetite," she said, and pricked several French fries with her fork.

  "You know I left my family for much the same reason." Paul followed his recent swallow with a chug of beer. "They had my mate picked out for me. A bit more personal, wouldn't you say? I couldn't swallow my pride, either."