“You didn’t drink peyote again?” I asked. “You know what happened last time.”
Mom grinned.
“Can I get you anything?” asked Ralph from the doorway. His hair was still damp and he was, unfortunately, fully clothed. I thought about what was under those clothes, and my pulse stuttered. Ralph’s blue eyes found mine and he raised one eyebrow. Ah. He heard my heart race and had figured out what I was thinking.
“We’re fine,” I said finally. “Sit down and introduce yourself.”
Ralph sat in the only vacant seat, the one next to me. “I’m Ralph Genessa.”
Mom held out her hand, which Ralph took. “Theodora Monroe and this is my husband, Elmore.”
Dad shook hands with Ralph, and I could see that my father was sizing him up. Elmore Monroe was the strong, silent type, with emphasis on the silent part. Ralph must’ve met his approval because he allowed a rare smile. “Nice to meet you, son.”
“You, too, sir.”
Cullen and Zane observed this ritual then both of them held out their hands. “Nice to meet you.”
“In stereo,” said Ralph, shaking Cullen’s and then Zane’s outstretched hands. “I’m Ralph.”
“Yes,” said the taller one. “We know. Is there a reason you said so again?”
Ralph’s mouth dropped open. He slid a glance at me and I shrugged. Maybe these two had a bit of the peyote.
“Uh … Mom? How did you find me?”
“It’s the most marvelous thing,” she said. “You apparently have a tracking device.”
“A tracking device,” I repeated.
“It’s organic,” she went on, “which is why we never discovered it. That, and we wouldn’t let doctors near you. For good reason, too. Doctors! Poo!”
I held up my hand. “Let’s stop there. Before we all board the train to Crazyville, I’d like to tell you what it’s been like here, in Cuckoo Town.”
I told my parents, and by proximity, the strange Cullen and Zane, everything that had happened (with certain Ralph-sized omissions) since I stepped foot in Broken Heart. The melon-heads didn’t appear to care one way or the other, but Mom nearly swooned.
“I knew it! I knew it!” She popped out of her chair and did the Boogie Woogie. “Can we meet them? Oh, please! This is as good as our news.”
I didn’t really want to hear Mom’s news. Warning bells were whooping madly in my mind. Instead, I tried to change the subject. “Aren’t you surprised about Archie? Well, Stanley.”
“Oh, you can’t hold his nature against him,” Mom said softly. “He’s a curious man with a wonderful intellect. I’m sure he meant you no harm.”
Gah! My Mom lived in the World of Good Intentions. “What about the fact he faked his death?”
“Well,” she said, her eyebrows drawing down. “I suppose we should’ve appreciated him more.”
“Mom. Really?”
Ralph’s cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the display. “I better take this.”
My gaze followed him as he walked out of the living room. Hm-mmm. Look at that ass. I caught myself and straightened. Until I could talk to my parents in private about Ralph, I needed to keep make my affection for him a little less obvious. As soon as Ralph was gone, I grasped Mom’s arm and looked her straight in the eyes.
“Where is this so-called tracker?” I asked. “Did you put it there?”
Mom looked at me, confused. “Why in the world would I do that?”
“It’s not an embedded object,” said Cullen. “It’s a natural part of your biology. Do you often share blood? I was not aware of this ritualistic need.”
“Vampires drink blood. It’s not something regular people do,” I pointed out. “And how do you know about the tracking situation?”
Cullen opened his mouth to answer, but Ralph appeared in the entry way.
“We have to go,” he said. “Ruadan is missing, Patsy has new information about the dragon, and … Stan knows what’s wrong with Libby.”
“There’s something wrong with Liberty?” Mom put her hand against my forehead and peered into my eyes. Why do mothers always do that? I sighed. “I’m not sick, Mom. I’m never sick.”
“Well, then … what’s wrong with you?”
* * * * *
Much to my relief, the meeting was held at the Old Sass Café. We introduced my parents and their friends to Patsy, Gabriel, and Stan. We settled around a large booth: I was in the middle between my parents; Cullen and Zane took the right side; and Patsy and Gabriel took the left side. Ralph pulled up a chair from another table and sat in it. Stan stood nearby, pacing in a little circle.
I was glad that we didn’t have to go to the mansion or sit through another meeting with the Consortium. All the same, I didn’t really want to be here, either.
“I’m so pleased to meet all of you,” said Mom. “I have so many questions, but first … I’d like to know what the problem is with my daughter.”
“She’s an alien!” Stan shouted. “And I have the proof!” He held up a sheaf of papers.
Mom stared at him, her eyes wide. No one lied to Mom. Or one-upped her. “Well, of course she’s an alien, Archibald. That’s hardly news.”
Everyone turned to stare at her.
“I was taken by Cullen’s people,” she said. “They fertilized one of my eggs with the sperm from one of their males and implanted it in my womb. Nine months later, Liberty was born. A miracle.” Mom shared a look with Dad, and then they both looked at me with pride.
I thought I was going to throw up.
“Disease ravaged our females. Nearly eight-percent became infertile,” said Cullen. “Government officials and some of our top scientists conspired to create hybrids. The human beings on Earth were the most compatible with our DNA. Several hundred experiments were done over the course of forty Earth years.”
“Wait a minute,” interrupted Ralph. “Aliens really did crash in Roswell?”
“One of the first scientific teams that arrived,” said Cullen. “They were killed in the crash, and your government took their ship. Why do you think so many advances in aviation were made?
“To continue … when the hybridization plot was revealed to our people, the experimentation was stopped.”
“There are hundreds of hybrids?” I asked. “Hundreds?”
“No,” said Cullen. “Only fifty-six were successful, and those only in the last twenty-five years. I’m an emissary from my planet. My job is to offer compensation to the affected families.”
“So you just pop by their house and say, ‘Here’s some money for bearing a half-alien baby. Thanks.’” Patsy sounded incredulous. “Honey, I’ve seen some really weird shit, but I have to tell you, this beats all.”
“Cullen usually works undercover,” said Mom. “People think the money comes from inheritances or lottery wins.”
“Your mother is open-minded,” said Cullen. It was the first time his inflection showed any kind of warmth. “I do not like to lie.”
“What about the wacky powers?” I asked. “How do you explain the ability to create energy bubbles and blow up rooms?”
“No other hybrid exhibited the kind of power you have. Our people reach full maturity at twenty-five in Earth years. That’s when our mental and physical abilities become fully active. You … bloomed early. But I can implant an inhibitor.”
“Can you give it to me?” I asked. “Does it work forever?”
“It will work so long as it’s part of you. It can be removed.”
“I want it,” I said. “Please.”
“If that is what you wish.” He reached inside his pocket and removed a small cylindrical object. He leaned across the table and pressed it against my neck. I felt a slight sting and then it was over.
“How long does it take?” I asked.
“It works immediately.”
I was grateful to lose the ol’ electric powers. It made me feel like a regular person. Or rather, a regular alien-human. Sheesh. I
was an alien. I couldn’t believe it. Okay, it explained a lot. All the same, I felt like such a freak. I looked around at the vampires. Well, okay, maybe I didn’t feel out of place in this company, but still. As a half-alien, I totally trumped blood-suckers.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did, honey.”
“Uh … no. I think I would remember the ‘you are an alien’ talk.”
“I told you when you were thirteen,” she said softly. “And that night, you … well, as you so aptly put it, blew up your room.”
“I blocked it out?” Oh, my God. I was going to need so much therapy.
“Your father and I decided not to broach the subject again until you were ready.”
“That’s why you kept going back to Roswell? Hoping they’d find you again?”
“Yes.”
Everyone was quiet. I couldn’t look at Ralph. I didn’t want to know what he thought about all of this. He probably couldn’t wait to walk away … no, to run away.
“So, that’s why men never wanted to date me. I had some sort of … alien repellant.” My throat knotted, but I refused to cry.
“Our people mate for life,” said Cullen. “Our genes are dominant in you, and so it’s only logical that you should be more attractive to our males.”
“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” I said. “Look, I don’t want to be mated to one of your males. I already…”
I trailed off. I thought I’d found the one. But how could Ralph be the one if my biology determined who I was supposed to be with? I dared a glance at Ralph. His expression was carefully blank, his gaze filled with nothing more than idle curiosity. My stomach clenched. I bet he regretted hooking up with me. Probably didn’t want his sons to be around a crazy alien half-breed.
“So … the alien part of Libby’s blood poisoned Patrick?” asked Stan. He’d discarded the paperwork. He was avidly studying Cullen and Zane. Probably was trying to figure out a way to get them under the knife, I thought morosely.
“Ah, yes. Our emotional state changes the composition of our blood. When we’re angry or terrified, it becomes toxic. It’s a defense mechanism.”
“Does heat aggravate your powers?” asked Patsy.
“Libby was nearest to the fireplace the first time it manifested,” pointed out Gabriel. “And the next time, she was dealing with dragon fire.”
Cullen nodded. “Yes. Heat triggers our abilities more quickly. We prefer to live in hot, humid environments for that very reason.”
“Does it work the other way?” asked Stan. “If Libby is calm and happy, can her blood heal the one she’s injured?”
“Yes,” said Cullen, sounding almost pleased. “That is exactly how it works.”
“So we get Libby into her happy place and then transfuse Patrick with her blood?” Patsy seemed less than thrilled with the idea. I didn’t blame her. All we had was Cullen’s word that it would work.
“We’ve tried damned near everything else,” said Patsy. “We really don’t have much to lose.” She looked at me, and I felt the weight of her queenly stare. “Except for Patrick and Jessica.”
* * * * *
Mom, Dad, Cullen, Zane, Stan, and Ralph, apparently my ex-advocate as well as my ex-lover, opted to stay at the diner. Ralph offered to grill veggie burgers for Mom and Dad, and Stan proceeded to grill the aliens about their planet, culture, and science.
I went with Patsy and Gabriel. We drove in the black Jaguar toward the other end of town.
“So,” said Patsy. “You’re an alien.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s so weird.”
“No kidding.”
Coming to grips with my alien heritage took a back seat to fighting my heartbreak. Ralph had barely looked at me, much less tried to kiss me good-bye. He’d made sure he was already on the way to the kitchen before I could even scoot out of the booth.
I just didn’t want to think about it anymore. “Ralph said you had information about the dragon, the real one.”
“Ash tracked it to its cave, but it disappeared. However, she told us that the dragon is a shape-shifting dark mage named Synd. He was magically imprisoned by the Convocation—and no, I don’t know who the hell they are. Anyway, Lia tracked him down, released his scaly hide, and enlisted him to her cause. Or so she thought.
“Ash thinks Synd has bigger, badder plans. She thinks Lia set the fires in Tulsa. She targeted businesses owned by vampires and werewolves. All but the last one. Synd fried the hotel because he was trying to kill the one person who can kill him.”
So Ash had been staying at the hotel. I figured her more a Motel 6 kind of girl.
“Ash isn’t exactly Mother Theresa,” I said.
“She’s an assassin,” said Gabriel. “And the only one of her kind.”
“And what kind is that?” I asked.
“She’s a soul shifter. She absorbs the souls, and the forms, of the people she … er, releases from the bonds of Earth,” said Patsy. She looked at me over her shoulder, her gaze filled with disgust. “The sooner she catches her dragon, the better for us. She has to take a soul every ninety days, no matter what. Believe me, you don’t want to be near her when that shit goes down.”
I had no plans to be near her or the dragon. My life in Tulsa was gone, which was just as well. Since Ralph didn’t seem to want me anymore, it was probably best just to return to PRIS with Mom and Dad. It was a relief, in a way, to go back to my old life. I could stop trying to be normal. Normal was way overrated.
“I hate to go Peter Pan on you,” said Patsy. “But you need to start thinking happy thoughts. Your Patrick’s only chance now.”
“Okay,” I said, sniffling. Tears fell. Ack! This was so not the mindset needed for healing the vampire I’d hurt. “I’m sorry. About everything.”
“Well, now, we haven’t exactly been hospitable … or, in some cases, reasonable.” She paused. “I’m surprised you stayed. I mean, if I’da been in your shoes, I would’ve hot-footed right out of town.”
“I had a reason to stay.”
“Maybe that’s your happy thought, then.”
* * * * *
Patrick and his wife lay in their king-sized bed with the thick covers pulled up to their chins. Both were ghastly pale, and it didn’t take a doctor to know that they weren’t doing well.
The sparkly tattooed lady … Brigid, right? Yeah. She held vigil over the two of them. Her smile was warm, even though her eyes held resignation.
“It’s a terrible thing,” she said in her Irish lilt, “to have the power of gods, and not be able to save me own grandson.”
“Libby can,” said Patsy. She nudged me forward. I walked to Patrick and looked down on his waxy, gray face. His hair was black. I wondered if the fairy named Zerina had switched it back.
Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Freckles falling into the toilet. Okay, that was so much as happy as inappropriately funny. Um … getting my journalism degree. Nope. Cruising the Florida Everglades while Dad played skunk ape calls. Going to Scotland so my parents could try to coax Nessie out of the loch. Watching Ralph cook in the kitchen. Watching Ralph sleep. Feeling Ralph’s hands on my skin, seeing him smile just for me.
Happiness flooded me. Patsy was right. Ralph was my happy thought. Even if we couldn’t be together, or worse, even if he didn’t want me, I couldn’t regret our time together.
I would never regret falling in love with him.
I pressed my wrist against Patrick’s lips, and I thought about Ralph. I thought about what it would be like to meet his sons, to hold their tiny hands as we walked to the park, to read them stories at bedtime, to make cookies with them.
Patrick’s fangs pierced my skin. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I guess my alien DNA kept vampire saliva from healing my wounds. I wondered what else being a freakozoid affected. Yikes. I was losing my happiness, so I thought about Ralph again.
He was so cute. Hard-working. Kind-hearted. He deserved real love. To pursue his dream of being a
paramedic. To live in a safe place where he could raise his sons. He deserved sunshine.
Patrick drank and drank and drank.
I felt light-headed and started to sway.
“That’s enough,” said Brigid. She pulled my wrist from his mouth and laid her hand over the seeping wounds. The tattoos on her hand swirled into symbols I didn’t recognize. My skin tingled.
Alien DNA might not respond to vamp spit, but it couldn’t resist the magic of a goddess.
Brigid led me to a chair and I sat, feeling woozy. I kept my gaze on Patrick’s face. We were all watching and waiting. How long would it take? A few minutes, a few hours, a few days?
Patrick opened his eyes, and the first thing he did was look at his wife. Her eyes opened, too. He kissed her tenderly, and I looked away.
* * * * *
We returned to the booth and got settled. A veggie burger, French fries, and orange juice awaited me. I gulped it all down and felt infinitely better. A teeny tiny part of me wanted to believe that Ralph wouldn’t have cooked for me if he didn’t care about me. Then again, he was a nice guy. I couldn’t see him slighting anyone, even if they’d—oh, I don’t know—announced they were an alien.
“It worked. Patrick and Jessica are just fine,” said Patsy, who couldn’t stop grinning. “God, I love a happy ending.”
My eyes caught Ralph’s. It was hard not to look right on him when he sitting directly across from me. His gaze dropped to the table. I guess we weren’t going to have a happy ending.
Mom hugged me. “Okay. It’s time for your birthday surprise. Cullen has brought you compensation.”
Woo. I didn’t want apologies or money or powers or anything. I wanted to be human. I wanted to be with Ralph. And if I couldn’t have him, then I wanted to get the hell out of Broken Heart.
Instead, I looked at Cullen. From his coat pocket, he took out a square box, about six inches all around, carved from a beautiful blue material. It looked about four inches deep.
Broken Heart Tails (Broken Heart Vampires) Page 6