MaryJane Davidson - Undead and Unwelcome

More wolves were padding out of the trees on either side of the road, one with Michael’s black fur and distinctive golden eyes. They formed a ring around us, and the air was split again and again by the silvery, haunting howls.

I got back to our suite just before dawn. As I passed through the rooms, I checked on BabyJon—sound asleep. Thank God he hadn’t been hurt—could never be hurt, at least by werewolves and vampires. He was mine. I wanted him to live forever.

Sinclair, with his usual brand of magic—or perhaps because he knew me so well—was waiting for me. I went to him without a word and hid my face against his shirt.

“Elizabeth, my own, my dear, shhhhh.”

“It’s all going wrong,” I cried, “and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“This is very unbecoming to the ball-​busting queen I married,” he said, trying to tease me into a smile.

“But I want to fix it!”

“You are young, my own.”

I sniffled and looked up into his black eyes. “So?”

“So some things—many things—cannot be fixed. These people will have to be satisfied with your sorrow. You cannot give them any more of yourself.”

“No, but I can give you more of myself.”

I went up on tiptoe to kiss him and his mouth pressed over mine, his tongue darting and stroking. I slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders as his fingers were busy with my blouse buttons.

In another few moments we were naked and falling on the bed together. I was clutching at him, kissing him wildly, biting him, drawing blood even as he was drawing mine.

His teeth slid into my jugular just as that other part of him slid between my legs. I crossed my ankles behind his back and returned every thrust, every nip, every kiss.

I took everything. And gave back what I could.

Sometimes, I figured, that’s all anyone can do, even if they are the queen of the vampires.

He held me for a long time, after.

It was the next afternoon, late—close to five o’clock. Sinclair was up and working on the laptop (all the shades were drawn, natch). I was moping around, wondering what more the werewolves wanted, wondering how much longer I’d have to stay on the Cape to prevent a paranormal war.

“That’s odd,” Sinclair said.

“What now?”

“You’ve got several e-​mails from Marc. Ah . . . thirty at least. And my damn cell phone still isn’t working,” he added in a mutter.

“Torturing me with more bad grammar and acronyms,” I muttered. I was so not in the mood.

There was a polite rap at the door, and when I opened it, Derik and Michael were there.

“Okay to come in?” Derik asked, looking a little more like his old self.

“Ask him,” I said nodding at Michael. “It’s his house.”

“Yes.” Michael smiled at me. “We can come in.”

Sinclair came into the sitting room, nodded politely and, seeming to know what was up, excused himself to give us a false sense of privacy (with his hearing, there was no privacy . . . not when we were only twenty feet away).

“I, uh, wanted to apologize,” Derik said stiffly. “About before.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do have to, not least because if I don’t, it’ll get me in trouble with my wife.”

I laughed. “When is she due?”

“Any second.”

“Yeesh.” I’ve mentioned hugely pregnant women make me nervous, right? “Well, good luck with all of that.”

“I wanted to tell you that the Council is satisfied with your testimony and thanks you for your cooperation.”

I was silent. I wasn’t the smartest woman in the world, but even I could smell Derik all over that one. Sometime today, when he woke up with two legs instead of four, he had fixed things with the Council.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m glad you—I’m glad the Council is satisfied.”

“On a more personal note,” Michael said, giving me the friendliest smile I’d ever seen, “my home and my lands are open to you and your husband anytime. I hope you’ll come to see us again soon.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.” “Thanks” seemed big-​time inadequate, but it was all I could come up with.

Poof! Just like that, our troubles were over. It was hard to believe that we could just pick up and leave without werewolf repercussions.

Sinclair rapped politely, then came into the room and handed me a hard copy of one of Marc’s e-​mails. It was such a disaster it actually hurt my brain to look at it.

Betsy!

CBN grrrl Laura’s LHM and IDKWTD!!!!! Please you have to GYBBH ASAP! I am so not LOLing right now please please come!

“It’s the same message over and over.”

I rolled my eyes. “Who can make heads or tails of this? Maybe we should call him.”

“I have been. Nobody answers . . . and I can’t reach Tina.”

Huh. That was odd. Tina was available to Sinclair at all times.

Derik peeked over my shoulder. “Holy crap. You’d better get going.”

“What?” I looked at the gibberish. “You mean you actually understand this mess?”

“You mean you don’t? ‘Come back now, girl. Laura’s lost her mind and I don’t know what to do. Please, you have to get your butt back home as soon as possible! I am so not laughing out loud right now. Please, please come!’ ”

There was a short silence as Sinclair and I locked gazes. He looked as horrified as I felt.

“Oh my God. Oh my—get Jessica. Get the baby. We have to go right now—oh my God, what’s she done? Did she lose it and kill Tina?”

“You’ve got trouble at home,” Michael said, not wasting our time with silly questions. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I’ll come with you, if you want,” Derik offered.

“No, that’s—that’s okay. I mean, thanks and everything, but you stay here with your wife. Sinclair, Jessica’s got to call Cooper and get the plane ready.” I was dashing around the room, scooping up clothes and flinging them in the general direction of one of the suitcases.

“I’ve got some people at the airport,” Michael said. “I’ll call ahead and make sure you’re not unnecessarily delayed.”

“Great. That’s great. Okay, let’s—damn! I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“Your mom says not to name your daughter after her.”

“My—what?”

“Your mom.”

“My mom’s been dead for twenty—”

“I know. But that doesn’t change the fact that she doesn’t want another Theodocia running around in the world.”

That was how we left Antonia’s best friend and the Pack leader: amazed and staring after us.

I wasn’t sure how Cooper had managed to shave thirty-​five minutes off our flight time, and I didn’t want to know. Sinclair’s car was waiting on the tarmac for us when we landed, and the four of us piled in and took off.

Sinclair made that car move, getting us to the mansion in record time. Before we could even get to the front door, it was yanked open and Marc was framed in the doorway.

“It’s about damned time!”

“If you wrote your emergency messages in English, we would have been back three days ago. Where’s Laura? Where’s Tina? What’s going on?”

“I haven’t seen Tina in days. I think Laura might have done something.”

We followed him through the house. “What’s she been doing?”

“You might as well see for yourself. Because even I don’t believe it, and I’ve seen it.”

He stiff-​armed the door to the parlor, which swung open.

Sinclair, Jessica, and I stared at the goings-​on.

He was right. I didn’t believe it.