MaryJane Davidson - Undead and Unwelcome

“Oh, the usual. Pandemonium. Violence. Threats. More violence.”

“You suck at narratives.”

He bowed his head modestly. I knew I was wasting my breath (so to speak). Sinclair wasn’t about to confess that he’d been scared out of his mind yet again. He liked to play it cool, even with me.

“Logically, your attempted murder can only help us.”

“Gee, thanks. So glad to be of service.” I sat up and swung my right leg out to kick him in the shin, which he neatly avoided.

“Elizabeth, you know exactly what I mean.”

“Michael’s humiliated and mortified, which the Council will pick up on? Like that?”

“Yes. Like that.”

“They must have been pretty surprised when I got up off the floor.”

He grinned. “Yes, indeed. Once I was able to remove the chair leg from your sternum, you woke up almost instantly—and healed as quickly.”

“Glad to be of help. That Sara girl was nice. She was about the only one who was nice.”

He shrugged and eased out of his jacket. “Give them time. Your warped charm will eventually win them over.”

“Hypocrites. Is it just me, or did Antonia never get a call or a visit from these guys the whole time she was living with us?”

“It is not just you. But take comfort in the fact that in the last year of her life Antonia found love and happiness with us. Something she apparently could not get out here.”

That was sad. These yo-​yos were supposed to be her family. But nobody had much cared until she was killed. Hell, they hadn’t even known she was in a committed relationship with another vampire—Garrett, who had killed himself about four seconds after he’d realized the love of his life was dead.

It was all too awful to contemplate and for a moment I envied Jessica, lying in a dark bedroom and sleeping through this entire rotten mess.

But that was no way to be; it certainly didn’t solve anything. We had to move forward—even if it meant leaving some people behind.

Dude,

It’s really hard to write this. I’m embarrassed and mad at myself. But I’d better get it off my chest, so listen up.

I can pinpoint the exact moment I realized the shit was hitting the fan. It was the next morning, long after Tina had retired for the day. I was minding my own business, wolfing down a bowl of Special K and reading the latest John Sandford novel, when Laura bopped in.

She seemed more cheerful than usual, which was nice, because she’d been awfully stressed since Betsy and Sinclair left. And she looked even prettier than usual—and Laura was a beautiful girl—with her buttercup yellow sweater and faded jeans, her blond hair pulled back in its perpetual pony-​tail, big eyes bright and sparkling.

“Morning!” she chirped, sitting across from me. “Did I get any calls?”

“Uh, no. Are you expecting one?”

“Sure. I had this great idea and I have you to thank for it. I’ll hopefully find out today if it worked.”

Dude, I should have followed up right then. But I didn’t. I figured she was involved with some church thing, or was working on a project for school. I’m an ER resident, not a shrink. How was I supposed to know she’d lost her mind?

Yeah, I know. It’s all just a bunch of crap justification now. I should have been paying closer attention, and I wasn’t. That’s the long and short of it.

“It’s going to solve a lot of problems,” Laura continued, and I admit I was barely listening to her. “I’ve just been so worried about Betsy ever since she almost died (again) when Antonia got shot.”

“Betsy’s always almost dying again.” I was a little more sanguine about the vampire queen’s resilience; I had seen many, many strange things since Betsy stopped me from killing myself a couple years back. “She’s like our own personal Kenny.”

“Kenny?”

“From South Park . Pop culture reference; sorry.” Laura tended to stick to network news and the Food Network. A single episode of South Park would horrify and disgust her. Sometimes the show horrified me, too, but I was still addicted to it. Nobody’s perfect.

“Where’s Tina?”

“Conked out in her room—you know how it is with her. She won’t be going anywhere until the sun’s down.”

“I have something for her,” Laura said vaguely. “And some people want to see her.”

“Great.” I yawned. New vampires were always stopping by the mansion to pay their respects. “Thank God it’s my day off. I need a break from sick people.”

Laura giggled. “That’s an odd thing for a doctor to say.”

“Honey, all doctors say it. Just not around patients.”

“I’m sure that’s—”

The phone rang and Laura leaped to her feet, practically sprinting to get it before it rang again. I rolled my eyes; probably some church wanted her to run a fund-​raiser or some such thing. Or maybe PBS was running another pledge drive.

“Yes? Hello?” She paused, listening. “Okay, great! That’s just great . . . uh-​huh . . . really? Oh, you didn’t!” She laughed, then paused again. “Uh-​huh . . . you are? Terrific. Then I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks very much.” She hung up.

“Good news?” I yawned.

“The best news. Okay, well, I’ve got to go. See you.”

“Bye,” I said vaguely, and I was back into my book before she got to the front door.

So, so careless. Not to mention stupid. It’s all fine and good to say now “How was I supposed to know?” except I had seen the effect the devil worshippers had on Laura. I should have been suspicious of her 180, instead of focusing on my own problems.

But I wasn’t.

And, though I didn’t know it, it was already too late.

You mean someone killed you again? And I missed it?” Jessica groaned and covered her face. “Damn! I was washing puke from my clothes while you were getting murdered . . . Dammit!”

“You didn’t miss much,” I soothed. “Just me picking a fight with a bunch of werewolves, getting stabbed, Sinclair kicking the crap out of my stabber, me waking up, and then everybody taking off.”

“Oh, sure. Sounds like a real snooze-​fest. So what happens next?”

“We’re supposed to meet the Council tonight.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. I was still a little vague on that myself.

Jessica and I were having a late-​afternoon drink in the sitting room of my suite. Because it was barely five o’clock, BabyJon was still asleep, and so was Sinclair.

I had my own thoughts about that, but kept them to myself. See, Sinclair could move around during the day, he just couldn’t go outside. The fact that he was choosing to stay under told me he was storing up his strength for whatever ordeal lay ahead. And, typical of Sinclair, he wasn’t telling me any of the things he was worrying about.

“So, what?” Jess was saying, blowing on her hot chocolate. “You tell them what happened, and they do what?”

“I have no idea.”

“You shouldn’t even be talking to them.”

“What?”

Jessica sipped. Blew. Sipped again. “You did what you had to do. Just like Antonia. So why should you have to explain yourself to a bunch of strangers who apparently never gave that poor girl a thought once she blew town?”

“It’s why we came out here,” I said. “We knew we’d have to face the music one way or another.”

“I don’t like it. I never liked it. You shouldn’t take the defensive.”

I shrugged. “Let’s see how it plays out. A few hundred people noticed last night that I’m pretty tough to kill. And—holy crap, I forgot to tell you about what happened with the baby!”

I summed it up for Jess, who was amazed. “Come on. Michael really forgot you brought a baby out here?”