Authors: Tami Dane
Blood of Eden (32 page)
“You might as well try on the dress,” she offered, checking out the gown. “Wow, is this gorgeous! I bet it cost a small fortune.” Standing, she held it up to herself and sighed. “Don't take this wrong, but I was a little jealous when I first heard. I'm beginning to think it's never going to happen for me.”
“What are you talking about? Jesse adores you.”
“Jesse and I broke up.” She smoothed the beaded material against her body.
Now, that was a shocker. “You did? When? Why didn't I know about this?”
“It happened before the bug thing.”
“Oh, hon.” I scrabbled to my feet and flung my arms around Katie. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you were so busy with your new job. And then I got sick, and I didn't really care ... but I do now.” She snuffled, her nose buried in the crook of my neck. “I miss him, damn it.”
“What happened?” I rubbed her back.
“I don't know. He just called me one day and said it was over. And that was it, the last I've heard from him.”
“Bastard. He broke up with you over the phone?”
Katie wriggled out of my embrace and smeared away the tears dribbling down her face. “I guess it's better than a text, right?”
“I'm sorry, hon. That's shitty.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and the dress, hugging it to her torso. I recognized the gesture's significance. She was feeling defensive. “You never liked him, anyway. I know that. Although you tried to pretend otherwise.”
“I am the world's worst actress. Not much of a liar either.” I rubbed Katie's back again. “I just always had a bad feeling about him.”
“Turns out you were right.”
“I'm
sorry
I was right.” I took the dress from Katie and set it on the bed.
sorry
I was right.” I took the dress from Katie and set it on the bed.
“Enough about that.” Katie started digging through the contents of her bag. She produced a handheld computer. “Look what I found. I forgot I had this in here.” She started poking buttons. “I hope the battery's not dead. If I get it powered up, can you e-mail someone for help? How about JT?”
“I can try. He's probably asleep. But I think he forwards his e-mail to his phone.” I typed up a quick e-mail, giving him as many details as I could, which wasn't much. As I typed, I said, “One particular bit of information would be very handyâour location. I don't suppose they let you see where they were taking you?”
“Not exactly. I rode in the back of a limousine. With very darkly tinted windows. I didn't see a thing, and I wasn't really trying to keep track because I didn't realize I should be.” Katie's shoulders sagged. “I suck at this secret-agent stuff, don't I?”
“No, you don't suck.” I patted her knee. “You didn't even know you needed to be a secret agent. We'll think of something.”
Katie started pacing. “Maybe the FBI can track your cell phone? It has GPS, doesn't it?”
“Sure, but I'm guessing it's been shut off to guard against just that.”
“Probably. Shit.” Katie walked another lap around the room. “The ride wasn't long. Fifteen or twenty minutes, tops. That should narrow down the search area.”
“Sure. If you traveled fifteen miles, that means the search area is over seven hundred square miles. Can you give me anything?”
“Uhn.” Katie took another lap, halting in front of me. I was glad she stopped. She was making me dizzy. “Okay, I
think
we got on the JFK. And I'm pretty sure we went north.”
think
we got on the JFK. And I'm pretty sure we went north.”
“That's a start.” I added the info and shot the e-mail over to JT. Then I checked my e-mail once, twice, ten times. No response. “No answer. Damn. I bet he crashed early tonight. Our case is closed. And he thinks I'm with my mom.” I checked my mailbox again. Nothing. “Maybe I can Google
âSluagh'
while we wait. No sense sitting here, wasting time.” I opened another browser window. The little machine
chug-chug-chugged.
“This Internet browser sucks. It's so slow.”
âSluagh'
while we wait. No sense sitting here, wasting time.” I opened another browser window. The little machine
chug-chug-chugged.
“This Internet browser sucks. It's so slow.”
“Yeah, that's why I barely used the stupid thing. Doesn't help that it has less memory than a cheap MP3 player. Did you say âslew'?” Katie asked.
“No, I said,
âSloo-ah.'
That's what my soon-to-be husband is.”
âSloo-ah.'
That's what my soon-to-be husband is.”
“And what exactly is a
Sluagh
? Is he the member of some kind of international Mob or something?”
Sluagh
? Is he the member of some kind of international Mob or something?”
“Good guess. But not exactly.” I started pecking at the tiny keys. Eventually I scored a Wiki article. “It's a paranormal creature. Comes from Scottish folklore. âThe
Sluagh
were the spirits of the restless dead,'” I read aloud.
Sluagh
were the spirits of the restless dead,'” I read aloud.
“Uhn, sounds romantic ... not.”
I grimaced. “Believe me, it isn't romantic. Or sexy. I never figured I'd marry a Johnny Depp, but I'd always figured I'd at least end up with a human being, if I married at all.”
“Is he a zombie?”
“Kind of. How do I stop this guy?” I skimmed the rest of the article, then clicked back to the search results for something better.
“We've got to find out how to slay a
Sluagh,
” Katie joked as she read over my shoulder. “Wait, if he's already dead, can you even kill him?”
Sluagh,
” Katie joked as she read over my shoulder. “Wait, if he's already dead, can you even kill him?”
“I don't know. I'm looking.” I read through a few more articles, one on Wikipedia, a few on gaming sites. “I'm coming up with a great big nothing.” I dropped the palm computer on the bed. “Damn it, what am I going to do?” After indulging in a brief pity party, I muttered a few curses and joined Katie in racewalking a few laps around the room.
Katie stopped. “How about you ... bargain with him? Offer something else in exchange for your freedom?”
“Great idea, but what would I give him? Hmm. How about another bride?” I gave her a look. “I don't suppose you'd like to volunteer.”
“Uh, that would be ... hell no.”
I slung an arm over her shoulder. “I was just playing.”
Katie squinted at me. I don't think she believed me.
“So much for that idea.” We took another turn around the room, stopping in front of the fancy dressing table positioned under the window. Looked like a genuine antique. A genuine, expensive antique. “Just look at this place, at the dress.... I'm guessing Elmer has a shitload of money. I can't bribe him. I'm broke.” I checked out a cut-glass perfume bottle, then set it back where I'd found it. “Okay, I can't bribe him. And I can't offer him another bride. What else can I do?”
“I dunno.” Katie plopped on the bed. “I've always believed there are only two things that men wantâsex and power. Give them one or the other, and they'll be putty in your hands.”
“Power? Hmm ...” I scooped up Katie's palm computer and started Googling again. I needed to figure out exactly why a
Sluagh
would want to marry a girl who was half elf. I had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with both: sex and power.
Sluagh
would want to marry a girl who was half elf. I had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with both: sex and power.
Hours later, I had a headache from trying to read the tiny font on the computer's three-inch screen. And I was no closer to an answer than I'd been hours ago.
Stiff from sitting for so long, I got up and stretched. Katie was sprawled on the bed, snoring quietly. I checked the clock. It was almost three. In the morning. My eyelids wouldn't stay open anymore, and I couldn't focus my eyes. It was time for sleep.
When I woke up, my stomach was rumbly and I felt gross. I checked the clock. Nine o'clock. I took a quick shower. When I came out of the bathroom, wearing the same clothes as last night, Katie was awake, lounging on the bed, stuffing what looked like a donut into her mouth.
She waved me over, sputtering around a mouthful, “Sugar. Caffeine.”
“Excellent.” I claimed the last custard-filled pastry before Katie ate it. It disappeared within seconds.
“How'd the research go last night? I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help. I haven't been sleeping well. I guess I just crashed.” Katie sipped from a Styrofoam cup of coffee, grimacing. “Black. Ick. Where's the whipped cream? Chocolate? At least they could've given us a little vanilla-flavored creamer.”
“The research went nowhere. I'm thinking he's marrying me to gain some kind of power. Don't know, though, if it's political or magical.”
“Huh.” Katie licked her fingers. “What are you going to do? Are you going to marry him?”
I shivered. “I can't. I just ... can't.”
Katie scooted over to me. She flung an arm over my shoulder. “I wish I could think of something.”
“So do I.” I choked down some of the black coffee and gobbled another donut. Then, flying high on a sugar and caffeine rush, I went back to the palm computer.
I had an e-mail. From JT!
The whole team's searching for you. Can you give us anything?
I responded:
Wish I could. Window's boarded. Big house. Newish construction. I was unconscious when they brought me in. Didn't see anything. Katie's with me. She didn't see much either. Have one name, Elmer. That's it. No last name.
I hit send and waited for his response. Ten minutes later, I stopped refreshing the screen. I opened a new message and started typing.
Need to research “Sluagh.” Being held by the prince, who's decided he must marry me. Wedding's tonight. Time is running out. PS. Please tell my mom. And dad. Maybe they'll know what to do.
I hit send.
Twenty minutes later, still no response from JT.
I forwarded the second message I'd written to JT to everyone in my contacts list, then went back to Googling. This time, I looked up the word “elf.”
There was lots of information on elves.
I made myself comfy and started reading. Katie took a shower, then periodically asked me if I'd found anything good. Each time, I responded with a grunt and a sigh and kept reading.
Lunch was delivered by the big man from last night. He lumbered in, set the tray on the bed, and, ignoring my pleas and questions, plodded out again.
Katie and I ate. I refreshed my e-mail in-box a zillion times and checked the clock every twenty minutes for the next few hours. Time was ticking away, and I had no clue how I was going to get myself out of this mess.
By five o'clock, Katie and I had concluded helping the prince of the
Sluagh
gain powerâregardless of what typeâsounded like a bad thing for everyone. We had to stop him, and not just because the idea of being married to him made me throw up.
Sluagh
gain powerâregardless of what typeâsounded like a bad thing for everyone. We had to stop him, and not just because the idea of being married to him made me throw up.
But how?
By seven o'clock, we'd come up with two options, both of them pathetic. Plan AâI would pretend to be sick and beg for another day. That would buy the PBAU a little more time. Or plan Bâif plan A failed, which I was pretty sure it would, I would try to convince my future husband that being married to me would be worse than any hell he'd ever seen.
Not much of a plan, I know. But I'd challenge anyone in my position to do better.
I was ready to put plan A into effect the minute “Lurch,” as we'd nicknamed him, trudged into our room with our dinner tray at seven-thirty. I dove into bed the second I heard the door lock rattle. Katie took her position next to me. She grinned as I jerked the covers over myself. I produced what was hopefully a believable moan as the door swung open.
Wasn't it ironic that my future rested upon my pathetic acting skills? Ironic. And very scary.
Lurch shambled to the bed and handed Katie the tray.
“My friend's sick. She needs a doctor,” I heard Katie say.
“Huhn,” Lurch said, and left.
I threw the covers off and stared at the locked door. “That's it? âHuhn'? What kind of host is he?”
“I guess we shouldn't have expected better from a man named Lurch.” Katie sighed. “Guess we're on to plan B.”
“I guess so.”
We clapped our hands together and exchanged evil grins, even though I wasn't exactly feeling like smiling.
“Let's see what kind of hell we can stir up,” I said. To myself, I added,
This has to work. Or else.
This has to work. Or else.
Nonviolence is the greatest force at the disposal of mankind. It is mightier than the mightiest weapon of destruction devised by the ingenuity of man.
âMahatma Gandhi
27
It had been ages since Katie and I had teamed up to cause chaos. If I say so myself, we're pretty good at it. That gave me some hope. But only a little.
Our usual victims weren't anything like Elmer, prince of the
Sluagh.
They were snobby, self-important sorority girls who'd gone out of their way to make our lives living hell. They not only deserved what they had coming to them, but they'd been easy targets.
Sluagh.
They were snobby, self-important sorority girls who'd gone out of their way to make our lives living hell. They not only deserved what they had coming to them, but they'd been easy targets.
Not so, Elmer.
For one thing, outside of scaring me a little during his nocturnal visits, and kidnapping me to force me to marry him, Elmer hadn't done anything bad to me. He hadn't humiliated me. He hadn't hurt me. He hadn't raped me. Quite the opposite, he'd made sure Katie and I had every comfort of home, including some pretty decent meals and a wedding dress that would probably make the average fashionista green with envy.
The bottom line: my inner “nice girl” wanted to convince him not to marry me, rather than to try to scare him out of it.
Nice Sloan wasn't going to allow me to do anything over-the-top cruel.
That left me with very mixed feelings about plan B.
“What can we do to annoy an
un
dead guy?” Katie asked, standing behind me, in the bathroom. The back lace of my corset was in her fist.
un
dead guy?” Katie asked, standing behind me, in the bathroom. The back lace of my corset was in her fist.
Wearing fresh underwear and a corset, a wedding gift from Elmer, I twirled a strand of hair around the curling iron I held in my hand. “I have no idea. I mean, I know saying the words âGod' and âJesus' do something to him. But they don't cripple him. And he seems very determined to go through with this wedding. Even if I were to spend the entire night yelling, âGodGodGod,' I don't think it would make him miserable enough to run from the altar.”
“Hmm. Maybe we're overcomplicating this. Men get cold feet. All kinds of men. What makes one run?” Katie yanked on the lace, and the corset squeezed my chest like an overly friendly boa constrictor, forcing a puff of air out of my lungs.
“Yikes,” I muttered. After I managed to reinflate my lungs, I mumbled, “What are you trying to do? Tie that thing so tight, I pass out? Then again, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea. He can't marry me if I'm unconscious.” I inhaled, exhaled, to shrink my chest, and blurted, “Pull now.” The corset jerked tighter, squishing my boobs and compressing my rib cage so I couldn't take a deep breath. I inflated my lungs as best I could. “Holy shit. Thank God, we don't have to wear these things every day. It's no wonder women were fainting all the time.” I cooked another strand of hair, then released it. The coil bounced as it unwound from the iron.
Katie gave the lace one last yank, then tied it. “You need to watch an episode or two of
Bridezillas.
It's a show about bitchy brides. I swear, it's a miracle any of them make it to the altar.”
Bridezillas.
It's a show about bitchy brides. I swear, it's a miracle any of them make it to the altar.”
“Sounds good, but there's no time, and we don't have a TV. Can you give me the Twitter version?”
“Sure.” Katie finger-combed the corkscrews on the back of my head. “It's easy. Be a bitch. About everything. Complain bitterly about the flowers, the dress, the ring, the shoes, the venue, the food, the limoâeverything and anything.”
I curled another strand, accidentally singeing my earlobe as I unwound it. “Ouch. I guess I can do that.” The door to the bedroom swung open. I waved at Katie. “Go, see who that is. I have to pee again.”
“Watch and learn.” She dove out of the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind her. After I took care of business, I inched it open just a crack, watching from the safety of my tile-and-porcelain cocoon.
“We have some problems, Lurch,” Katie said.
I couldn't make out his answer. His voice was very low, and he didn't enunciate clearly.
Katie began her verbal onslaught. “First, the bride hasn't seen the groom since last night. What's up with that? And second, the bride's shoes don't match the dress.
At all.
And the veil is much too short. She has always wanted a long veil. You can't expect her to wear a short veil when she's always dreamed of a long one. This is, after all, the wedding of her dreams. And where are her flowers? How can she get married without seeing her flowers? Plus, she needs to see the menu for the reception. She's lactose intolerant, and gluten sensitive. Plus, she's a vegan. She won't touch anything that has a face or feelings.”
At all.
And the veil is much too short. She has always wanted a long veil. You can't expect her to wear a short veil when she's always dreamed of a long one. This is, after all, the wedding of her dreams. And where are her flowers? How can she get married without seeing her flowers? Plus, she needs to see the menu for the reception. She's lactose intolerant, and gluten sensitive. Plus, she's a vegan. She won't touch anything that has a face or feelings.”
I was laughing so hard, I almost peed my pants. And my bladder had been drained dry at least ten times in the past hour.
Katie continued, “And she needs to assign seating for her side of the family. God help us all if you put Grandma Skye next to Aunt Spencer. You don't want to know what happened the last time they were in a room together. Let's just say, the family isn't welcome in certain venues. Plus, nobody's told us where the ceremony is going to be held. What kind of wedding is this?”
I held my breath and listened, but I still couldn't make out Lurch's response. The door to the hall slammed. The door to the bathroom swung all the way open, and Katie stumbled in, holding her stomach, tears streaming down her face.
“Oh, my God, I haven't had that much fun in ages,” she said.
“What did he say?”
“He said, âHuhn,' and left.”
“âHuhn,'” I echoed as I gathered my curled hair into a pile on the top of my head. “Lurch is definitely a man of few words. What do you think? Up? Or down?”
“Up. Your dress is too formal to wear it down.”
“It is up then.” As I fiddled with my hair, I met Katie's gaze in the mirror. “Do you think the
Bridezilla
thing is working?”
Bridezilla
thing is working?”
“I dunno.”
“What time is it?”
Katie poked her head out of the bathroom. “It's almost eight-thirty.”
“You know, the only time I've seen Elmer is after dark.”
“It'll be dark in a few minutes.”
My stomach twisted. “Yeah.” I finished putting my hair up, slapped on a little makeup, for my benefit, not my groom's, and headed out to the bedroom. I checked my e-mail first. Finally there was a message from JT! It was short. Clearly, I couldn't count on the cavalry coming to my rescue.
Contacted parents. Father says to keep your head and delay as long as possible. Time is on your side. Still unable to locate you by tracing your e-mails. It's slow, but we're getting there.
Delay as long as possible. Wasn't there anything else I could do?
Katie helped me into the dress. And at eight forty-five, the door to our room opened and my groom strolled in, decked out in head-to-toe black. The well-cut clothes were clearly expensive, but even so, he was still the same ugly, stinky, scary man I knew and
didn't
love. Just goes to show you, expensive clothes don't make the man. The man makes the clothes.
didn't
love. Just goes to show you, expensive clothes don't make the man. The man makes the clothes.
“It's time,” he announced, leering at me. He grabbed my arm, hauling me toward the door.
I shuddered. “Wait a minute.” I truly felt ill.
He stopped. “What is it
now
?”
now
?”
“I feel sick.”
“Angus told me you were pretending to be ill.”
Angus? Who was that? I swallowed a mouthful of bile. “I'm not pretending. And I have to pee. I have this bladder control problemâ”
“I don't have time for this. Let's go.” He pulled.
I bent over and threw up. Mostly on the floor. A little splattered up the leg of his expensive pants.
He jumped backward, releasing my arm.
I looked at the open door, then at the bathroom. Pee? Or escape? If it wasn't for Katie, it would be a no-brainer. I dove through the door. My bladder could wait. I'd get help and rescue Katie. I hoped she'd forgive me for abandoning her.
Lurch, who I surmised was Angus, caught me before I'd made it to the end of the hall.
Again.
Again.
He lifted me off the floor.
My stomach imploded, and I gagged but didn't throw up. He grumbled something under his breath as he tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and hauled me down the stairs. We headed through the first floor of an enormous house, and finally out to a smallish limousine, parked in an attached garage. Of course, the garage door was shut. I was dumped into the back of the vehicle. I flung myself at the door on the opposite side. Before I could scrabble out, Elmer pushed his way inside.
He glared at me and shoved a bucket into my hands. “Hey, it isn't my fault you didn't listen to me. I warned you.” I glanced out the window. It was darkly tintedâso dark, I couldn't make out anything in the garage. Just for kicks, I tried the other door. Locked. It could only be opened from the outside.
“I couldn't risk you diving out of a moving vehicle. That might hurt,” he said.
“Isn't that thoughtful? You're worried about my safety.” Irritated, I yanked on the door handle a few more times. I can be stubborn sometimes. Nobody's perfect.
“I'm trying. You've got to give me some credit.”
My bladder contracted. “I have to go to the bathroom. I'd hate to ruin this dress.”
“Go in the bucket.”
I looked at the bucket. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. I'm not letting you out of this car. So it's the bucket or your pants.”
“You know, I'm a female. It isn't easy for us to pee in a container.” He shrugged. I decided I could wait. A little while. “Where's Katie?”
“She'll be riding in a separate car.”
“Oh. I was really hoping she'd ride with me.”
“ No.”
“I think I have food poisoning. I'm not feeling good. At all.”
“Huhn,” he said. Now I knew where Lurch got that charming expression.
The car started rolling. We were on the road.
My heart started banging against my rib cage again. I had a feeling that things were getting awfully bruised in there.
I was going to get sick again. “How about I make you a deal?” I asked, my voice an octave higher than normal. Panic does very ugly things to me.
“What kind of deal?”
“I'll do anythingâpay
any
price if you don't marry me.”
any
price if you don't marry me.”
He thought about it for about ten seconds. “No.”
Damn.
“That was quick. You didn't really give it much thought. Isn't there anything you want more than me?”
“That was quick. You didn't really give it much thought. Isn't there anything you want more than me?”
“There is, but it doesn't matter.”
“What? Tell me. You'll never know if you don't ask.”
He sighed. His expression turned wistful. “Before I became undead, I used to live on the shore. And every night, I would sit on the deck with a beer and a steak and watch the sunset. I would do anything to be able to do that again.
Even marry you.
” His shoulders slumped. “The truth is, I know you weren't playing hard to get. You don't want to marry me, never have. Never will. I was trying to convince myself.”
Even marry you.
” His shoulders slumped. “The truth is, I know you weren't playing hard to get. You don't want to marry me, never have. Never will. I was trying to convince myself.”
“So that's what this is all about?”
“You have no idea what my life is like. I can't eat. I can't drink. Not even water. And I am only able to materialize between the hours of twilight and midnight. During the rest of the time, I'm stuck in total nothingness. Imagine life without beer, without popcorn, without steak and burgers. It's hell.”
“How does this marriage thing come into play?”
“You're elf. Elves are magical creatures. Very powerful. Once we're married, you'll have the power to give me a new body. To make me alive again.”
“What if I agreed to do that, anyway?” I offered.
“There's no way you can, not without marrying me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.”
It was my turn to say, “Huhn.” I thought the situation through. Was there any way out of this quandary? There had to be. “I'm only half elf. Maybe the magic won't work.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “I've considered that possibility.”
“Then where will that leave you?”
“Stuck in this hell forever.”
That was my outâmy only chance. “You know, this sounds like a no-brainer to me. Why would you marry me knowing there is a good chanceâ”
“A small chance,” he corrected.
“Some chance,” I said, “that you might be worse off than you were before? You need a full-blooded elf bride.”
A month ago, if you'd told me I'd be having this conversation with the prince of the restless undead, I'd have laughed until I'd wet my pants. What a bizarre twist my life had taken.
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