by Mari Mancusi
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Pyrus demands, looking this close to losing his cool. “You enroll in our vampire-in-training program. You seduce one of our top vampires. You attempt to win his trust by warning him about a threat to his sire’s life. A threat, I’m assuming, you engineered to begin with. And then, when you think you’re in, you try to talk that vampire into turning against his own people and sparking a civil war.”
I grimace. I have to agree, it does sound kind of bad when you put it that way. “Hey, at least I’m not planning to unleash an army of zombies onto the world.”
Lucifent’s expression pales. Magnus looks up in interest. The House Speaker turns and shoots Lucifent a death look. “I thought you assured me that no one knew about Project Z,” he seethes.
Lucifent squeaks, dropping his shot glass. Blood splashes on the carpet. “I swear, Lord Pyrus,” he stammers, his confident swagger having completely abandoned him. “The only person who knows is General Jareth, who’s overseeing the program. And I can assure you he can be trusted.”
Pyrus opens his mouth to speak, but Magnus suddenly interjects. “So wait,” he says. “The whole zombie thing she was talking about is true? That’s really what Project Z is about?”
“I told you that you should have believed me,” I mutter.
The House Speaker shakes his head wearily. “Great. Now everyone and his sire is going to know by morning.”
But Magnus isn’t listening to him anymore. He’s turned to Lucifent, a furious expression on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands. “I’m supposed to be your second in command.”
Lucifent rises to his seat. “Perhaps because I knew you’d act like this,” he challenges his protégé. “What did you think we were going to do to Slayer Inc.? Ask them nicely to stop murdering us and hope they agree? They tried to kill me!” he reminds him. “They need to be punished.”
“And what about the rest of what Sunny told me?” Magnus continues, this time addressing Pyrus himself. “About using the zombies to enslave the humans once Slayer Inc. was out of the way? Is that part of the plan as well?”
Lucifent frowns. “Of course not! That’s ridiculous.” He pauses, then turns to me. “Um, isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you ask your fearless leader?” I suggest.
The two vampires look at Pyrus. He releases an annoyed-sounding sigh. “Oh, don’t go soft on me now,” he says. “The human race has it coming to them. Why should they continue to control the world—to run the show? Face it, they’re nothing more than parasites, devouring our planet like it’s going out of style. One must only look at the disappearing rain forests, the melting ice caps, the fading ozone layer, global warming. Over only a few short years, humans have caused irreparable damage to the planet we share.” He frowns. “But hey, why should they care? If they’re lucky they might live a hundred years. Then they’ll be food for worms. While we vampires are stuck inheriting the wasteland they leave behind them.”
I bite my lower lip, wishing I had a response. Wishing his speech didn’t actually make quite a bit of sense. I mean, I’m not suggesting zombie warfare is the answer, mind you, but I admit humans haven’t really been the best caretakers of our planet.
“Eternity is a very long time to live,” Pyrus adds. “And I don’t want to spend mine on a postapocalyptic Hell on earth.”
“I know what you’re saying,” Magnus tries to reason. “But genocide isn’t the answer here. We should be educating them. Using our vast resources to fund research programs that can find solutions to these problems. We should be helping the humans, rather than figuring out ways to destroy them. After all,” he adds, his eyes shining with his passion, “we were all humans once ourselves.”
I smile to myself, mentally cheering him on. Go, Magnus! You tell him where it’s at!
“We were humans,” Pyrus corrects. “But we’ve since evolved. And for thousands of years we’ve been helping others evolve, too. Artists, scientists, musicians, politicians—we’ve taken the cream of the human crop and turned them into vampires through our blood-mate program. Those who are left behind are useless. Except, of course, as entrées.”
Ooh, he’s such an ass. I squeeze my hands into fists, unable to fight down the anger welling up inside of me. “That’s ridiculous,” I find myself saying.
Pyrus turns to me, one eyebrow arched. “Is it?” he purrs. “But of course you would say so. Seeing as you’re defending your own kind and all.”
“Actually,” I correct, wondering if I’m making a big mistake by bringing this up, “I’m not. I’m not a human. I’m not mortal. I’m a fairy. Princess Sunshine of the Light Court, if you must know.”
Pyrus gives me a sharp look. “What?” he cries, losing his cool for a second. “But that’s impossible. Where are your wings?”
“My parents left Fairyland before I was born,” I inform him, trying my best to keep my voice from shaking. “They believed there was enough good in humankind to raise their children among them.” I shrug. “Sure, people have made mistakes. Violence, war, destroying natural resources, Keeping up with the Kardashians…” I shudder. “But they’ve also done amazing things. Cured disease, built the Internet, created awe-inspiring art and music. And through it all, they’ve done nothing to harm the vampire race.”
“Um, have you seen Twilight?”
I roll my eyes. “And sure, you can turn someone into a vampire once they’ve shown their genius. That’s easy. But what about all those future geniuses that are yet to come? What if the woman you drain dry today was destined to give birth to a girl who would someday invent a way for vampires to walk in the sunlight?”
The vampires are silent, as if each is lost in his own thoughts. To my surprise, it’s Lucifent who speaks first.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he starts, his young voice full of hesitation. “I only wanted to offer up the zombies to destroy Slayer Inc. I’m not sure it’s in our best interests, to be honest, to wage war with humans. In fact, some of my best friends are humans…”
I grin. Score one for the pint-size prince. Maybe we did do a service by saving him after all.
“Perhaps the best thing to do would be to bring this matter to the Consortium,” Lucifent continues. “Let’s have a real vote. See what the membership wants. After all, we are a democr—”
His words are cut off as Pyrus grabs him, rips out his throat, then throws his little body against the wall. I cringe at the sickening crack of his backbone, breaking on contact. The Blood Coven Master crumbles to the ground and remains there, still as the grave. As Magnus and I watch in horror, Pyrus casually walks up to the body, reaches down, and twists off his head.
Then he looks up at us.
“Democracy,” he says, spitting out the word as if it’s poison. “There will be no democracy. You are either for me or against me. This is a pinnacle moment in our history. And I can’t have dissenters bringing me down.” He stalks over to Magnus, his hands still dripping with blood. “What about you?” he demands. “What side are you on?”
Magnus doesn’t answer at first. He’s still staring at his sire’s lifeless body in disbelief. Then he glances over at me—for only a millisecond. But it’s enough for me to catch the regret in his eyes. He knows now he should have listened to me. Not that this knowledge does him any good.
Finally, he turns back to Pyrus, dropping to his knees in front of the Speaker. “I am, as always, your humble servant,” he says meekly. “And I trust your judgment without question. If you believe the humans are worth exterminating, then I will do everything in my power to carry out your wishes.”
I swallow hard, hating to watch him grovel. I know he’s probably just trying to bide his time, gain Pyrus’s trust while figuring out a plan to stop him. But it’s still hard to see the brave and honorable vampire bowing before the evil master.
Luckily, his words seem to work. Pyrus’s lips curl into a smile. He takes Magnus by the shoulders and pulls him to his feet, patting him on the ba
ck. “Well, then,” he says. “I guess I should be congratulating you…Master of the Blood Coven.”
Magnus’s shoulders drop in obvious relief. Though I can see he’s still shaken. I suddenly realize that we’re almost back to where we were the first time around. Lucifent’s dead. Magnus is Master. Pyrus is ready to kill me all over again…
“Thank you, m’lord,” Magnus finally manages to say. “Now if you don’t mind, I will take this fairy here”—gesturing to me—“and show her what the Blood Coven does to spies.” He grabs me roughly by the arm and starts dragging me out of the room. I pretend to struggle, going along with the game.
“You’ll never get away with this!” I cry, because that’s what they always cry in movies.
We’re almost to the open door—to our escape—when, without warning, it slams shut, seemingly by itself. We whirl around and see Pyrus standing directly behind us, arms crossed against his chest.
“Wait,” he says in a calm, smooth voice, laced with menace.
“Y-yes?” Magnus manages to stammer. My heart starts pounding hard and fast in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to say, but I can pretty much bet it’s not going to be good.
“If she’s telling the truth—about being a fairy—killing her would be a very big waste,” Pyrus says, reaching out to pluck Magnus’s hand from my arm. He wraps his own arm around me and leads me over to the couch. “Not to mention a sign of war to those in Fairyland, whom I’d very much like to have as allies.” He sits me down and takes a tray of small cakes off the coffee table, offering one to me. I shake my head, disgusted.
“But…” Magnus stammers. “I thought…”
“You think too small, as usual,” Pyrus rebukes him. “That’s why I am the one in charge.” He smirks. “Imagine, an alliance between fairies and vampire royalty. Fighting side by side, on the same team. We would be unstoppable.” He smiles sweetly at me. I manage to hold back my scowl. I’d love to tell him off right now, but I know that speaking my mind may lead him to losing his temper. And I can all too clearly see the results of that, currently bleeding out on the carpet floor.
“So what are you saying?” Magnus asks, finding his tongue after a moment. “You want her to be my blood mate after all?”
“Of course not,” Pyrus replies disgustedly, looking at Magnus as if he were a dim-witted child.
“Then…?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” The House Speaker smiles widely, revealing blinding white fangs. “I want her to be mine.”
24
Rayne
“You are now free to eat around the cabin…”
The plane erupts in chaos as the queen finishes her speech. The same zombies, who up until this point have been pretty darn well behaved, considering their lack of working brain cells, start going crazy—ripping off their headphones and rising from their seats, growling and groaning and gnashing their teeth. One grabs the seat cushion in front of him, ripping it from its frame and taking a huge chomp. Bits of foam start flying everywhere. Yikes.
Guess dinner-and-a-movie time is over. Well, at least the movie part…
I look at Jareth. He looks back at me. Then we both turn to Glenda. “Look, Glenda,” Jareth tries, though I think we both know by now it’s a losing battle. “It’s not what you think.”
Glenda narrows her eyes. “I saw you kissing her,” she reminds Jareth. “What else should I think?”
“Actually I kissed him,” I interject. “And he didn’t like it. At all. In fact, Jareth, you thought it was super-gross, right? And you were about to remind me that you have a girlfriend that you love very much and—”
“Silence!” Glenda commands. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”
“Glenda, darling, I can assure you I don’t think that—”
Her gaze locks down on him. If looks could kill, he’d be on the floor. “You used me,” she seethes. “Pretended to love me just so you could gain access to my children.” She shakes her head. “Well, guess what?” she says. “You now have a full-access pass…to get ripped apart!”
And with that, she turns back to her impatient brood, who have gathered behind her in the doorway, struggling to be first in line for fresh meat. “Have fun, kiddos,” she tells them, then ducks back into the cabin, leaving a doorway full of zombies behind her.
With vampire speed, Jareth reaches the door, attempting to slam it shut. Unfortunately, one of the zombies manages to wedge his arm in the doorway, seconds before he can lock it down. Jareth tries to bang the door against his arm, with great force, but no sense, no feeling, I guess, and the zombie keeps trying to claw his way through.
Jareth throws his full weight against the door, his face whitening with the effort it takes to keep the zombies at bay.
“I have a gun,” I tell him. “But it’s back in the main cabin.” I glance at the door, noticing a small crack slowly snaking its way down the center. How long will it hold against the force of a dozen zombies?
“Doesn’t matter,” Jareth says. “We can’t be using guns on an airplane anyway. If we were to shoot out a window, we’d lose cabin pressure. Then we’d all end up dead.”
“No offense, dude, but that’ll probably happen regardless,” I remind him as I search the cabin for some kind of alternative weapon. I can hear the wood splintering behind me. We’ve probably got ten seconds to come up with a decent plan before they’re able to bust it in.
“Um, do you guys mind if I come out now?” Spider calls from behind the door. In all the chaos, I’d totally forgotten she was in there. “I mean, I want you to have your privacy and all, but at the same time, my toes are falling asleep.” She pokes her head out from the bathroom, her eyes widening as her gaze falls on the zombie arm sticking out of the main cabin door. “Uh,” she says, “what did I miss?”
“Give us a hand over here,” I call out, trying to drag a heavy armchair against the door.
“Looks like you already have one to spare.”
“Har har. Now less banter, more battering!” I scold, pushing the chair into place. Not that it’s going to do much good.
“Okay, okay.” Spider reaches into her pocket and pulls out her fire stick.
“Wait!” I cry. “That’s not a good—”
But I’m too late. Spider aims and fires at the zombie’s arm. I squeeze my eyes shut, imaging the plane going up in a ball of flames. And us with it.
“Spider!” I cry, opening my eyes again. “Why did you…?” I trail off, staring at the zombie arm. It’s whitish blue and frozen in place. In fact, not just frozen in place, but literally frozen. “What the…?”
Spider looks at me. “What?” she says. “You thought I was going to use fire mode?” She snorts, as if that were the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Oh ye of little faith.”
“Oh ye of little track record.”
Jareth smashes the door on the frozen arm. It shatters into a million pieces and the door slams shut. All three of us breathe a sigh of relief.
“So that thing shoots ice as well as fire?” I ask, staring at the stick in my friend’s hands. It is so not fair that she scored such a powerful toy when becoming a slayer and all I got was a lousy chunk of unfinished wood. Not that I’m complaining. With her kick-ass weapon at our disposal, maybe we’ll actually have a chance.
Spider frowns at the stick, banging it against her thigh. “Crap,” she says. “I knew I should have charged it before we left…”
Or maybe not.
At that moment, three zombies crash through the door like an undead battering ram and burst into the room. There’s the dapper old gent who drooled on Spider, now looking red-eyed and rabid. There’s Charlie, who’s growling and baring his rotten teeth in my direction. And then there’s Meredith, who, well, just walked into a wall. Poor thing—it’s tough to effectively maim and murder with only one eye.
I grab a bottle off the bar and slam it down on the granite countertop like I’ve seen people do in movies, to create a sharp weapon. It takes two tries
, but I finally get it to break. Just in time for Charlie to lunge at me. I whirl around, thrusting the jagged glass at his throat. Bright green blood geysers from the wound and I leap back to avoid being sprayed. It looks pretty bad, but I guess for Charlie it’s only a flesh wound, because he keeps coming, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he’s hemorrhaging from his trachea.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Spider kick her own zombie hard in the gut, grimacing at the gooshy sound her foot makes, caving into his rotting flesh. The zombie now has a combat boot–shaped hole in his abdomen, but just like Charlie, it’s not slowing him down in the slightest.
“It’s no use,” Jareth cries over the din as he takes on Meredith. “These are no ordinary zombies!”
“Um, there’s such a thing as ordinary zombies?” I ask, ducking to avoid Charlie’s attack. He slams into the bar instead, shrieking in anger as he’s thrown off balance.
“What I mean is these zombies aren’t created by a plague or nuclear waste or some other man-made disaster like you see in the movies,” Jareth explains, grabbing Meredith by the shoulders and pointing her in the direction of the bathroom. The senile old zombie stumbles inside and he closes the door behind her. Well, at least that’s one down. “They’ve been brought back to life by Glenda—meaning she’s the only one who can put them back in the ground. That’s what made them so attractive to Lucifent in the first place,” he adds. “They literally can’t be killed.”
“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” I mutter as Charlie finally manages to right himself and starts following me around the cabin again. I flip over a table and yank off the leg. Then I whack him as hard as I can in the head, somehow managing to spin it about 360 degrees. He stumbles and falls again. “What a great plan you guys had getting these things in the first place. Real A-plus.” I suddenly notice Spider sprinting toward the main cabin door, where the rest of the undead are waiting.
“Where are you going?” I demand. “Are you crazy?”
“Are you a complete noob?” she asks. “I’m off to take out Glenda, of course.” She turns to Jareth. “Are you cool keeping these ones out of the action?”