MaryJane Davidson - Undead and Unwelcome

He leaned back, squashing just one lung now. “I’m the one who—”

“It’s not your fault. Marc, this is Satan. Satan, this is—”

“I know Dr. Spangler, thank you.”

Marc was gaping up at the devil. “Satan? Laura’s mother, Satan? That Satan?”

“How many do you know?” I pushed him the rest of the way off me and climbed slowly to my feet. “We’re the flies in her web, as usual.”

The devil shook her head. “I never interfere with free will.”

“No, but you’re sure good at inspiring it. I’ve got to get back in there.”

“But we were having such a nice talk. Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go tell Laura what you did.”

The devil raised a dark eyebrow. “You’re going to tattle on the devil?”

“Damn right!”

I began the painful climb back up through the window, pausing just long enough to tell Marc, “Will you for God’s sake get the hell out of here? Somebody’s likely to get killed and I’d rather it wasn’t you.”

I’d rather it wasn’t me, either, but I wasn’t placing any bets on that one.

Dude,

You are not even going to believe what happened next. I was there, and I hardly believe it myself.

I pulled another one of the hooded jerks off Sinclair—there appeared to be an unending supply—but one of them fell back so fast he knocked me through a window. It was a little like being in a Western. The window, luckily, had already been broken.

By Betsy, whom I landed on. It was the closest thing to straight sex I’d experienced in years. Although I have to say, she was more bony than lush. It was those long femurs of hers.

Betsy, clearly squashed, managed a weak groan. I tried to explain what had happened, which is when she introduced me to the devil. The devil. Then she (Betsy) scrambled back through the window.

I decided there was a strong possibility that I was concussed, and reminded myself to watch for symptoms. Surely this was the result of a mind weakened by blunt-​force trauma.

“So, Marc. Let’s talk. How have you been?”

I gaped at her. This was Lucifer? The Fallen One? Samael? The Morningstar? She looked like a beautiful middle-​aged, gray-​streaked brunette with pretty shoes. And those ankles! I was getting straighter and straighter by the moment.

“What do you want with us?”

“Nothing at all.” The devil gazed thoughtfully at the broken window. “Laura’s my primary interest. The rest of you—you’re just wrenches in the toolbox of life. Things to use. Tools.”

“That was a terrible analogy.”

The devil gave me a decidedly unfriendly look.

“Why don’t you just leave Laura alone, to live her own life?”

“Dear boy. Even mothers who aren’t me can’t do that for their children.”

“She could have a happy life if you’d just leave her alone.”

Satan snorted through her nose. “Leave her alone? Never! She’s been poisoned by humanity. She actually thinks what happens to other people matters. I have the cure for that diseased worldview.”

I stood, brushing grass off my knees. “I don’t like you one bit.”

“Ooooh.” The devil smirked. “That one hurt. By the way, Marc, he knows.”

“What?”

“Your father. He knows all about you.” She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “He has always known. Oh, Marc. How you’ve disappointed him. You should see him cry when he’s alone and thinks no one’s watching. Like you do, sometimes.”

A sliver of ice pushed its way into my gut, but before I could think of a retort, or run away, the devil was gone.

Leaving the rest of us, of course, to clean up the mess she had instigated.

Laura looked delighted to see me crawl back into the room. “Good. I was hoping to beat the sin right out of your silly vain carcass, and I wasn’t sure I had finished the job.”

“Your mother’s in the yard.”

Laura, already reaching for my throat, hesitated. “Don’t lie, Betsy. You’ve tried everything but that.”

“But she is. I just talked to her. She said she gave Marc the idea about how you could use your followers to kill vampires.”

“That isn’t true.” But she didn’t look at all sure of herself. “Marc would never hurt me.”

She reached for me again and I batted her hand away. “He’s not the one out to push your buttons, dumbass! She is. This is, like, phase five of her plan to have you take over hell when she retires.”

My ears rang and I realized she’d slapped me so hard and fast that I’d barely seen her hand move. “Stop talking about her!”

“Laura, she wants you to do everything you’re doing.”

“That’s not true! I’ve been doing good! We’ve been killing demons!”

“No, you’ve been suckered. If you won’t stop for my sake, or your own, then stop for no other reason than because it will completely foil your mother’s wicked-​ass plans for you.”

Here came the bright light. Here came the sword, straight for my heart. Here came the killing blow, and thank goodness, because one way or the other, it meant the fight was almost over.

I sidestepped and punched Laura in the eye. She went down without a sound.

I didn’t realize until it was too late that she’d swung wide on purpose.

Sinclair staggered through the doorway, looking like he’d been through a hurricane. Or through a whole shitload of devil worshippers. Having vampire strength and reflexes was all fine and good, but it didn’t mean that enough bad guys couldn’t take a piece or two out of you.

His suit was in tatters; his face was streaked with blood. I imagine I didn’t look much better. At least we were both standing. Well, leaning.

“Some of them are dead,” he informed me. “Some of them ran off.”

Marc called from the other room, “And some of them are going to need medical attention! I’ll do what I can.”

Sinclair took in the ruined room, the holes in the walls, the broken windows, Laura, unconscious on the floor.

“Are you all right?”

“Shit, no. But I’ll live. How about you? You look like somebody dropped you into a blender and pressed puree.”

“What a coincidence. That is precisely how I feel.”

I went to him and hugged him, closing my eyes as he stroked my back. “Laura’s mom was here.”

“That explains much.”

“It explains mucher than you know.”

“At least you won the fight.”

I looked up at him. “She could have killed me at any time. She threw the fight when she realized her mother had been pulling her strings all this time.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

I imagined Sinclair didn’t need me to spell out the ramifications for him. Given the way he was grinding his teeth, I knew he was equal parts pissed for me and frightened for me.

Because if Laura could kill me anytime—she’d hidden her strength and speed all this time, for one thing—who was really in charge around here? A mere vampire?

Or the devil’s daughter?

And what about the next time Laura and I butted heads? Much as I hated to admit it, there most likely would be a next time. I couldn’t count on her to throw every fight. Frankly, I was pretty sure she’d only thrown this one because I’d shocked her with the bald truth. There were only so many times I could play the sister card.

And next time, she wouldn’t be taken off guard.

Next time, she might kick my ass straight into hell, and then bye-​bye for every vampire she could get her hands on.

And she could get her hands on a lot. Especially since she apparently had followers who would do whatever she asked. Legions of them.