Coffin Fit (The Grateful Undead series Book 4)

by Stec, Susan

  Susan's mother slammed Christ back on the altar, turned around, and dropped her fangs. "Someone needs to kill that demon piece of crap my daughter was married to. He's the one responsible for all of this."

  Resi said, "So it was you, then?"

  "I can't feed on good looking men and have sex anymore, Resi!" Chick said. "They just laugh at me. I can't mind-control worth a shit. So they see me like somebody's grandmother. I can't overpower them to drink, because I'd have to kill them."

  "So what does that have to do with you breaking into Shady Pines?" Zaire asked with arms crossed over her chest, gray eyes sparkling.

  Chick's chest rumbled. Her skinny body stiffened, eyes tight, lips tight, arms swinging as she snapped, "Because, I can drink from those old farts without killing them. I'd rather be caught dead than caught trying to give one of them a hard-on. Jesus, it's frigging impossible. And all my frigging teeth are starting to fall out. What are we going to do then? Huh? What?"

  While Zaire was laughing, Resi had a bit more empathy. "Okay, so we know you can drink on old men without killing them. Can we pick a more secluded site? Jeez, Nan, a nursing home?"

  "Hey," Chick said, "there's the news video. I'm a freaking ghost on screen. They'll never tie it to me."

  "What if the old guys start talking?" Zaire had recovered. "What then? And I bet it fuckin' hurts without mind-control. You're lucky one of them didn't go into friggin' cardiac arrest."

  Resi put her arm out and bounced her palms up and down, face sympathetic to her grandmother's plight. "Okay, so we have a minor issue." As she talked, she got up and crossed the room to stand in front of the glass doors. "Look, you can't see my reflection either, Zaire. So how about I go back to Shady Pines with Nanna tonight and I can push a mind sweep to clear her." Looking at her grandmother, Resi said, "But no more nursing homes without me, Nanna, okay?"

  Chick gave Zaire a snarky glare. "See, unlike you, Zaire, my grandkid has brains without condemnation. You need anger management classes. You need some empathy for us senior citizens."

  "I gave you empathy," Zaire said, stoic voice and expression. "Empathy for the poor bastards you sucked and brain fucked."

  * * *

  Gibbie flew around the corner of a wall, blocking us from the entrance of Purgatory. Fetid water gurgled as it slowly rolled by. The cement wall behind my back was damp, yet marginalized by the murky atmosphere.

  "So," I said as he hovered before us.

  "Jake is sucking down some green steam," Gibbie slurred. "I sucked down one shot of Tupelo honey—just playing my part—but the doppelganger isn't in the bar, and the púca we talked to, his shift doesn't start for another hour. I thought I'd hang out here to see if it comes, then go warn Jake."

  I stared down the long dark tunnel, the only light coming from a small window over the bar's door. "So what are we looking for?"

  "That is a marvelous question, Aunty Susan," Lily said, and turned to Gibbie. "Even I cannot sense a doppelganger if it does not want me to do so. It is quite useless to observe the entrance, fairy. You must realize the doppelganger could be wearing anyone who approaches? So a logical question would be how you know the creature is not in Purgatory?"

  "I asked a berserker that knows the dust cloud," Gibbie said. "He said last he saw it was around two in the morning, and it told him it was going to Orlando to pick up a ride."

  "Did he mention who that 'ride'—" I made quote marks with my fingers. "—would be?"

  "Nope," Gibbie said, flying erratically about our heads, his eyes on Betty. "Just that it would identify itself when it gets here."

  Betty was at the edge of the turn that gave us a good view of the bar, eyes on the front door.

  Gibbie ducked, and then whizzed past me so close my hair tickled my cheek from the backdraft of his wings. He landed on Betty's shoulder, stumbled, grabbed her teardrop earring, and teetered a minute. The hoops were large at the bottom, and he was able to climb through after making several amusing attempts. He sat and started to swing.

  "Cut that out, sugar, 'for you mess up my hair again." Betty glared at Lily.

  Lily took Christopher's hand and smiled as he said, "How?"

  "Huh?" Gibbie asked, leaning around the grip he had on Betty's earring to face Christopher.

  "How is it going to identify itself?" Christopher said as we all glanced down the sewer at a clatter by the door of Purgatory.

  Gibbie swatted a lock of Betty's blond hair, and whispered, "Hell if I know how its gonna-"

  "I'd just tell youse guys to shut your flappin' traps before youse raise the fricken dead," a female voice said from behind us.

  All of us whipped around.

  I plastered myself against the damp cement wall.

  A sexy blond chick in her early twenties was walking toward us. She's was tan, wearing a lewdly short skirt, and a lacy bra barely covered by a leather vest. Black boots with four-inch heels caressed the undersides of her knees as she struted toward us. She locked eyes with me. "Now don't go takin' no offense, sista, eh? But you and the two kids over there," she pointed at Lily and Christopher, "are fangers." She sniffed the air in front of Lily and bobbed a finger. "Eh, an' you smell like demon, too. You a demon-fanger?" She had a wad of pink bubble gum in her mouth. While chomping, she gave Lily a thumbs up and then addressed Betty. "Damn, Chickie Babe, you're a bitchen half-breed, too, ain't cha? I like your shirt. Nice knockers. You hook?"

  * * *

  "I don't like just sitting here," Dorius said.

  "I don't either, and I'm sure Karl doubly feels this way," Marcus said.

  Dorius's left foot was resting on the rock hearth of a massive fireplace in the formal sitting room, one hand on the mantel, the other worrying his goatee. Karl and his men were due back from their hunt. The real discomfort of the wait would commence when the were-shifters arrived and the brothers could no longer speak candidly.

  "Elizabeth will get a good talking to when we return," Dorius stated,

  "I intend to air on the side of physical relief." Marcus chuckled.

  "There will be no physical relief if your mate and her sidekick have taken Elizabeth Down Under!" Dorius hissed.

  Marcus opened his mouth to speak, but the massive doors swung open and three sated wolves strutted into the room in human form.

  "I take it the hunt was successful," Dorius said, eyes hard as they left his brother.

  "Per aggressuvo," Razzo said, and added robust laughter. "Rabbia in bottiglia e malsano!"

  Karl patted Razzo on the back. "You are right, my brother. Holding anger is counterproductive."

  "The buck felt no pain after the first thirty seconds," Randel said, followed by an approving grin.

  Everyone in the room shared a laugh as Karl poured drinks from a gilded bar against the back wall of the room. Razzo dropped down on a tapestry-covered arm-chair by the crackling fire. Dorius took a seat on the opposite side of the room. Marcus stretched his long legs toward the flames from under the small table where he sat. He picked up the glass of blood in front of him and took a deep drink. Candles lit overhead followed his movement with wavering shadow.

  "Is Antoinette on her way, then?" Karl asked, and handed a glass half-full of amber liquid to Randy. He strutted to Razzo's armchair and gave his second in command the other drink he held, and then returned to the bar for his. "And do we have word from the fairy?"

  "Yes, my sister is on her way to Miami," Dorius answered.

  "Ajax informed me the bartender at Purgatory, a púca, was very helpful. Gibbie and Jake are scheduled to meet with my doppelganger associate this evening."

  "And we wait," Karl said as he sat on a red velvet sofa in front of an old and colorful rug. The wolf's eyes ran over the men sipping and studying each other around the fireplace.

  * * *

  "Are you the doppelganger we're looking for?" I meekly asked, and then totally regretted the stupidity of the question. I sounded like a ten-year-old.

  My eyes jerked from the blond woman to Gi
bbie and then Lily. When it was perfectly clear neither knew for sure—Lily didn't jump in, and Gibbie only scrunched his shoulders—I turned back to the doppelganger wearing the scantily clad woman in leather.

  "The one an' only," the chick said with a severe northern accent. "But youse guys can call me Jane."

  "Jane," Christopher said, "how do we know you're the doppelganger?"

  Everything became acute: the water rolling by smelled more putrid. Small vermin stampeded in the shadows instead of scurrying by. The wind whistled down the sewer tunnel, and I could feel the cars drive by above ground.

  Jane stopped chewing loudly and blew a big pink bubble that popped over the lower half of her face. "That's easy sweet-cheeks," Jane answered Christopher, unsticking the chewing gum from the tip of her nose and popping it back into her mouth. "The púca behind the bar told me my old friend Dorius, and I do mean old if youse get my drift, needs me." Jane tweaked Christopher's cheek. "That good enough for ya, kiddo?"

  We all turned to Betty.

  "Hey, don't y'all go lookin' at me," Betty said. "If I open the floodgates now, we'll all drown."

  "I don't think either of us should open our minds to the guys just yet," I confirmed, and turned to our doppelganger. "Nice to meet you, ah..."

  "Jane. Just call me Jane," the saucy blond said. "I am what I wear, sista." She laughed.

  I didn't think a cackle could sound that sexy. I was staring. I know was. I just couldn't help myself.

  Christopher asked Gibbie, "Aren't you supposed to have a question that only Dorius's doppie could answer?

  "Doppie?" Jane raised a brow and tossed her right hand. "Unless you wanna meet my good friends, Smith an' Wesson, I suggest you get on with it. Ask me anything. My tits are freezing out here."

  Gibbie toppled over Betty's shoulder, unhinging himself from her earring. "Jake has it. He's in the bar."

  "So youse guys wanna go inside and ask Jake?" Jane pointed at Purgatory. "Then knock one back while we talk about my good buddy Dorius and the plans you have for killing our nemesis?"

  I pointed at Gibbie. "You've had enough."

  We strolled toward the small ray of purple light over the door on the cement wall. "Hey," I said to Jane, "can these two get in this place?" I pointed to Christopher and Lily. "They serve alcoholic beverages."

  "We're Down Under, Chickie." Jane did a rolling, shaking thing with her head. "Alcohol? Pashaw! They can fornicate on the tables in there."

  "Okay, now that's just disgustin'," Betty said.

  I shot Betty a furrowed brow and tried not to remember walking in on her and Christopher the day we met. But the shudder that ran up my spine told me it was too late. Swell, now I'll have to hold that image like a bad song repeating itself in my head.

  A few seconds later, when Jane yanked Purgatory's door open, the first thing I saw was the big black cloud sitting at the bar next to a really hunky red haired guy. When we entered, the smoky-cloud-thing elbowed the hunky guy, and he turned and they both grabbed their drinks and moved through a door in the back of the room.

  Christopher pulled at my arm until I bent to his whisper. "Did you see the sooty thing at the bar?"

  I nodded.

  "That was a doppelganger. I wonder if they know each other." Christopher's head bounced toward Jane.

  I picked my chin up off the floor and made a mental note to check out the back room. The bar was softly lit by hanging lamps with different colored bulbs—purple was the favorite, but yellow, green, pink, and blue were scatted among them like a colorfully lit Easter basket.

  The creatures mingling in the room were freakin' awesome. Big guys with black, white, or red hair, massive bodies, and wild eyes stood next to werewolves gathered in packs, chatting. Some of the wolves were tan-skinned in human form, others in the fur. There was a troll standing by the front door, a female. She was a bulky block of mortar that moved slowly and spoke with authority. The crowd was peppered with fae, elves, and a shitload of living breathing things I'd never seen . . . and vamps. I know because the vampires in the room all dropped their fangs when we walked in like some sort of alpha pissing match.

  "Those guys are berserkers," Christopher whispered, pointing at a group of men by three large cages hanging from rafters. They were the big guys with red, black or white hair.

  "Mean as hell." Christopher looked from them to me. "I'd give them a wide birth. Things usually start flying when they get pissed."

  It was a dark corner of the bar, but I could see muscles ripple as the berserkers burst out in animated shouts and laughter. They were wearing damp animal pelts, and smelled like the water in the sewer. When fists pounded wooden tables and splinters flew, I jumped two feet in the air.

  "Jesus, Susan," Christopher hissed. "Don't act scared in here. You look like food in a friggin bait-trap."

  I glared at him, and then turned to watch bettors wager with the big guys as one of the werewolves got into a cage.

  A troll bumped me on her way out the door. "Tourist, sweetheart?" she said, and laughed her way out into the sewers. She was dressed in cut off coveralls, with nothing covering limestone mounds that looked like molded and kiln-dried mud. She had big gray eyes and only two nostril holes for a nose. Mort was much better looking than this chick.

  I smiled at an elegant fairy with wispy pink hair and iridescent wings when she grinned at me as she passed by behind the Troll. "Sorry, is it obvious this is my first time?"

  The fairy's wings fluttered. "Like a billboard." Her laughter tinkled like metal wind chimes poked by a gentle breeze.

  "See," Christopher said as he pulled me toward the bar.

  My eyes locked on the bartender. It had green hair that fell past my view below the countertop. Leaves and sticks poked out everywhere, and two pointy ears stuck laid over its pointed orange cap.

  "What the hell is that?" I whispered.

  Gibbie landed on my shoulder and immediately got tangled in my hair. As he swung from my curly tendrils, he squeaked, "That, my friend, is a Púca. They change their form more often than an electric billboard."

  "It's right out of a Grimm fairytale!" I was in awe.

  Howls and groans in the back of the room pulled my gaze in that direction as we headed for the bar. An ogre was being served a plate of raw, bloody, body parts. The ogre got beasty-threatening. Growling and snarling, it coveted and devoured the meat. As the six of us took seats at the half-empty bar, I was surprised to see Jake wasn't at all intimidated by the multiracial creatures in the room.

  "I thought they stopped feeding ogres raw meat a few hundred years ago," Christopher said to Jake.

  "They did." Jake motioned the púca behind the bar over. "But the ogre council won back the right."

  I almost choked on my own spit when the creature shifted into a gorilla on its way over. Jesus, I had never seen a gorilla up close and personal. The thing was huge! I know I would've thrown up in my throat a little if there was food in my stomach.

  I wasn't even aware that Gibbie had untangled himself from my hair and was in what looked like an in-depth conversation with Jane and Jake. I did, however, feel it when Christopher bit my left hand.

  "What the hell?" I shouted and knocked him upside the head until he let go. Scanning the room, I was surprised to see that the outburst hadn't even drawn one set of eyes in our direction.

  Everyone was gathered around a cage as the flesh-tearing ogre climbed in with a werewolf. The wolf's buddies went all ballistic-rowdy. Jeez, the wolves in the room seemed to like a fight. Paul always seemed passive unless really provoked.

  One of the berserkers outside the cage blew a whistle, and a hush fell over the bar as all heads turned to the cage.

  Christopher poked me. "I want to know why Jane's eyes flew to the other doppelganger when we walked in."

  My head whipped to Jane, cackling with Betty, Jake, and Gibbie. The gorilla was back and set drinks in front of them while the room burst into bickered support for the fighters in the cage.

  M
y pain-in-the-ass partner tugged me toward Lily. The little demon was moving down the bar in the direction of the door the other doppelganger and her handsome friend had stepped through.

  "Oh, hell no." I shook loose from Christopher. "Gimmie a minute." I started toward the fairy holding the small glass of gold syrup he was about to take a sip from.

  "Now." Christopher's grip on my arm was firmer this time. "While no one is watching us."

  My partner dragged me after Lily. I was about to create a scene, but Gibbie winked at me, and it wasn't an inebriated wink. The fairy's eyes were clear and meaningful; they darted to Christopher, who trotted off after Lily. I made a management decision. I'd kill Gibbie later if anything happened to Betty. Right now, I needed to follow my partner.

  As I jogged down the bar, a berserker burst through the door of a metal cage and took down three tables—the one I'd been standing next to was one of them—as he rolled across the room, blood splattering, fists flying, and angry growls spraying spittle. The crowd went wild; obscenities, whoops, and aggressiveness cranked. The flesh-tearing ogre stood in the open door of the swinging cage and roared laughter over the encouraging crowd.

  I paused near the end of the bar when the room wound down to a sizzle.

  The ogre grabbed the bars on either side of the opening as the berserker got two feet under him and bellowed a threat, riding a wave of acrid, carnage breath over the room. No one else seemed to notice the stink. It made me gag.

  As half the clientele responded in testosterone injected frenzy and the rest varied in their levels of amenableness, I stumbled into Christopher, and together, we slid through the door, and into a small room.

  The noise faded as the door shut behind us.

  I sucked in a breath and froze. The only things in the small six-by-six room were the doppelganger, the sexy guy—both lying on a velveteen bed that just about took up the whole room—and us.