Coffin Fit (The Grateful Undead series Book 4) (9 page)

Aw, how sweet. I felt all warm and tingly, until he continued.
Dorius and the rogue hunters are combing the mountain range to make the wolves aware of our arrival. He is not himself. And I felt the need to mention how essential it is that you and Christopher stay on target, this time.

Well, that sure got my hackles up. The gums around my fangs were tingling.
Marcus, what do you mean I better stay on target
this time
?
I so much wished I could break something.

Listen to me, Susan. Dorius has ordered the Italian
satori to placate the individual
comuni by assuring them that he has control of the situation in the United States and, therefore, quite capable of handling the one in Italy. I suggest you prove him correct or he will be forced to take drastic measures with regards to the position he is in.

Fang-boy,
I poked hard,
you know what I'm fantasizing about right now?

Darling, this is hardly the time to-

I'm fantasizing how I'm going to stake you when you get home,
I pushed,
in your sleep or during sex.

Marcus's sigh filled my head with more hot air.
I'm only thinking about you, love. I don't want you to be held accountable if Christopher disobeys my brother again. Keep him in line and working on reducing central Florida's infected wildlife, not looking for ways to one-up my brother. Send Dorius daily reports, and for the love of blood, keep his mate safe.

I guess we shouldn't bring up Betty's close call when she arrived tonight, right?
I felt my lips turn up so high, my teeth were showing.

Is she unharmed?
Marcus sounded like Papa Bear after finding his porridge gone.
Where is she right now?

She's fine. Probably still out in the garage with Sonny, checking on the three alphas we caged. I'm not your brother's wife's keeper ya know.

"Are you having a brain-fuck moment with Marcus?" Christopher's words nipped my mischievousness, and must have raised a blood-blush on my cheeks because JoAnn didn't seem to want to hear my answer.

My sister tucked the
Walmart
bag and the box of bendy straws between her elbow and chest and stuck a finger in each ear. "Y'all should be ashamed, talkin' sex in front of God and everybody! I'm going up to my coffin."

"Not sex this time," I told Christopher, ignoring my sister's exit. "Marcus was filling me in on the Italy mission." My mate's rumbles dissipated into nothingness. Marcus was out of my head.

"They've just started working the island of Corsica. They're gonna scare up some wolf attention, then meet with the council again," I continued. "Dorius lied his ass off. He told the Italian bigwigs he has JoAnn's furry little mistakes under control over here and expects to nail that down by fixing the issue over there in his homeland."

"Yeah, right," Mom said. "I'm thinking we're going to have to help him save face, as usual, and, as usual, get no credit for it."

Before I could further support my mother's statement, my wandering eyes caught JoAnn in the kitchen. She'd put her stash on the edge of the Formica counter and was setting a standup magnifying mirror beside it. She reached into a drawer at the end of the counter and pulled out a tub of cocoa butter, aloe lotion and slathered a thick layer over her face. The lotion floated in front of her translucent, ghost-like face. I decided not to comment on the lack of reflection and turned to suggest we should all knuckle down and get serious about critter control no matter how good Dorius benefited from it. Christopher beat me to it.

"I've been thinking about Dorius's situation," my partner said, stroking Marcus's nightmare. "I have an idea how we can get the critter job done here, your aging issues fixed in Hell with Raphael,
and
get to Italy in time to save Dorius's ass."

"I am not going to piss Dorius off again, Christopher!"

Son-of-a-bitch, I was livid. Marcus was gonna be livid, too. I mentally imagined my mate ferociously rebuking any plan Christopher could come up with.

"You don't have to worry, Susan," Christopher said. "I do that enough for both of us. I'll lay out my plans when everyone gets here."

"Unfortunately, being as you're my Critter Control partner, I'm always frying in the aftermath of your brain-dead recipes for disaster."

"Do we not always come out on the right side of each and every mission I take charge of?" Christopher asked. "And does Dorius always come out on the wrong side?"

"Yes! And that's exactly what I'm concerned about. This is big for Dorius. He loses face in Italy; we lose our asses here in the U-S of A. I'm not going down with you again."

"We help Sonny and Betty round up and kill more fanged wildlife first." My mother exuded authority. She didn't wear it very long.

"Right, Chick," Christopher said. "First we get through tonight's meeting, then tackle Resi's testing with the alphas, and finally my passport—I hear the blackened demon in Hades is to die for. Then we can get to Italy via Susan's witchy powers. I know this rustic, big-game lodge in Sicily where it's open season for Wolf."

* * *

"We have not seen a sign or caught a scent of the wolf pack, or Karl, the pack leader. However, Marcus just reported a sighting of Randy." Dorius slid a cell phone into his jeans as he addressed the men huddled outside a cave opening at the base of a heavily wooded mountain range near the small town of Zacavo on the island of Corsica.

"That's Karl's second in command, right?" Camillo said.

"Yes," one of the Italian rogue hunters said; a short, thick immortal, with piercing eyes and snarling lips. He continued in Italian. "Randy is big, impressive, and very noticeable to anyone while in wolf or human form. His fur is black—only gray wolves live in our mountains—and his human skin is black. Visibility for Randy is not normal behavior, but it is common to occasionally witness a gray wolf from the pack."

"Why didn't Marcus take him down?" Camillo asked Doris.

"Marcus did not see the wolf himself. One of the seasonal shop owners did; an Italian from Sardinia, named Miguel Fatibene. He owns Seadoo rental shops on Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica. He's one of our local moles. We support his businesses; he keeps an eye on wolf deaths on the island. He spotted Randy at the
Résidence Les Calanques
hotel four miles from Ajaccio on the Mediterranean Sea.

"Miguel told Warren that a black wolf boarded a freighter from the end of a leash held by a local
commerciante
; a Frenchman named Villard Fouquet. The freighter services all three islands from the mainland."

"Are we going after him?" Camillo asked.

"Not yet." Dorius grabbed his bedroll and nodded toward the cave. "With Marcus's news, I am inclined to believe the pack has relocated to one of the other islands."

"Do you think Randy knows we're here?" Camillo asked.

"Absolutely. And I have no doubt he made sure my brother knew where he was headed." Dorius looked at his men. "They set this up on their turf, and I'm betting they hoped we'd bite the bait."

"The sun will be up soon in Milan. I'd better brief the council, and then call Chick," Dorius said to Camillo while the other vampires unrolled bed roles.

Camillo nodded.

"Tomorrow we regroup and head back to Milan. If the council wants us to become more aggressive, we will return." Dorius turned back toward the mouth of the cave. "With reinforcements."

~~~~

EIGHT

~~~~

"What did Dorius have to say?" I asked, and slid in next to Christopher at the picnic table.

It was hours before sunup, and the night was speckled with stars. An owl hooted from one of the cypress trees lining the lake off our patio.

Mom turned away from the front windows and ambled across the living room toward the picnic table set between two sets of sliding glass doors. It was where we usually gathered for the meetings. The doors were open, and that night, the lake breeze was scented with roses and jasmine.

"The wolves know the rogue hunting team is there," Mom said. She placed an arthritic hand against the center of her lower back and leaned into it. I heard bones crack. She was barefoot and wearing black Speedo shorts and a baggy black V-neck tee. Her legs were skinny, and her midsection was rounder than her ass. "One of the members got on a boat in broad daylight, leading a huge black wolf, collared and leashed."

Mom groaned her way into a spot at the picnic table. "That little show got the locals talking. Dorius thinks they were trying to lure them to some secluded island. But he didn't take the bait and follow the boat. They're all headed back to Milan as soon as Dorius and Marcus meet up later tonight. From what Dorius says, it's gonna end up some big ass war if the wolves don't buck up and call a meeting with the council."

Jake moaned and his body tensed. The dragon-shifter wiggled uncomfortably on a stool at the breakfast bar.

Betty was sitting on the stool beside him. "You're not going to start farting or shooting flames, are you?" she asked.

Jake blushed; smoke wafted from his nostrils. "No," he squeaked. "I don't do that anymore. I'm taking antacids and a proton pump inhibitor, omeprazole. It helps with gas."

As usual, Gibbie was perched on the ceiling fan, feet hanging, hair billowing about his face as the blades turned at medium speed. "You need to add a benzodiazepine medication," the fairy squeaked. "I suggest
Xanax
. Bye-bye stress; no more panic attacks."

Jake scrunched up his face and averted his gaze.

Gibbie's high-pitched voice grated my nerves when he got longwinded.

"So, Chick," Christopher said, bringing me back to the meeting, "What's the plan?"

Christopher was sitting on top of the table and leaned against the wall it was butted up against between the sliding doors.

Mom tried to cross her legs, but her stomach got in the way. "There is only one plan," she said. "We need to gain control of the infected animals on this side of the Atlantic, and we need to do it pronto. I know we should probably wait for Resi and Zaire to get the alphas ready, but I want to do at least one round up and destroy a night. Call them practice rounds. Sonny goes out, does a roundup, and the rest of us do the destroy part. This way, we can see what works best. When the girls get the alphas mind's adjusted, we'll be able to send them out to a few cities like Vegas—anywhere we think JoAnn's offspring have spread."

"That's a great idea, Connie," Sonny said. "The alphas in other cities, I mean. Well, all of it, but putting the mind-manipulated creatures in another city to see if they can attract and destroy is brilliant! That would be very effective in other countries—" Sonny cleared his throat and paused. "—um, should the need arise."

Sonny, just under six-feet, fine sandy-colored hair and blue eyes, was wearing tan cargo shorts, a white golf tee, and leather loafers without socks. He stood half in and half out of the sliding door by the breakfast bar, and behind Betty. To look at him, you would think him at home on a sailboat soaking up the sun, instead of slithering through Florida's lush flora, a cold-blooded boa-constrictor, looking for a meal. Sonny was turned into a vampire-shifter by one of Joann's critters.

"Damn, Chick," Betty said. "You almost—and I emphasize
almost
—make me understand why Dorius made you the boss of this operation."

I stopped studying my cuticles and gave Betty a wry eye. "He did that to spite me."

Betty, all pouty lips, blond hair and laughing eyes, was also a victim of one of JoAnn's critters—a hawk. Betty was a vamp-shifter as well. She wore a white terrycloth jumpsuit that accentuated her tiny waist, child-bearing hips, heart-shaped ass, and large chest. Elastic was the only thing holding the top part over and under her perky double Ds. She looked sexy in a
Dolly Parton
kind-of-way. Betty always wore high-wedged, cork and canvas espadrilles that showed off her cute feet, polished toes, and firm calves when she walked. Now that she was married to Dorius, she always had on large stone rings; expensive, but gaudy. And bangles of gold, diamonds and charms adorned her wrists, ears, and neck. Her actions authenticated a street-trash mentality, but her accouterments reeked wealthy.

"I went out earlier, Chick," Sonny was saying. "There are hundreds of them congregated in the woods behind the barn. They all scampered up to me when I got close. The field looked like an animal version of
Woodstock
: big majorly dilated red eyes and swooning bodies whenever I spoke."

"A rock star, huh? Let's call you Sonny Days." Jeni's laugh was lyrical. She was standing in the kitchen near my brewing coffee pot. The smell made my mouth water. I wanted to cry. "I'm down with surveillance," my daughter said as she pulled a cup out of the cupboard. "I just talked to Paul. He'll be here within the hour. He's bringing friends. Oh, and Mort is out by the dock, ready for instructions."

"What friends?" Gibbie wanted to know. The fairy was up on both feet, sword pulled, toes hanging over the edge of the fan paddles, and wings buzzing to keep his balance. "Better not be the elf tribe behind Little Joe's on the other side of the lake! Or the fairy cluster by the docks in Lake Eustis. I like being independent, and they've been sending messages by dragonfly for two months now. I am not going back. They even showed up at the convention! Said I'd be an asset warding off Elves pilfering their gardens. Bringing other fae into this will set me back a whole year of trying to break loose."

"Why would Paul bring in other fairies?" I asked Gibbie and Jeni.

Jeni said, "I don't know who he's bringing."

"I'll be back!" Gibbie bolted for the open door and out onto the screened porch before Mom could do more than raise her arm to stop him.

"Dove'e il rispetto?"
Mom said. "No one listens to me."

"We listened. Some of us praised. Others corrected." I grinned before nibbling a flap of the cuticle from one of my fingers. "You just said there wasn't much more to tell," I further taunted.

Mom slapped the table when I leaned out to watch Gibbie dart across the back porch and through a hole in the screen door. "
Perche preoccuparsi?
" she mumbled sarcastically, her hand shaking at the ceiling. "Why? Why? Nobody listens, anyway."

Sonny was watching Gibbie, too. "You girls really should fix that screen. Mosquitos, spiders, gnats, tree frogs, coral snakes . . ."

"Jesus!" I shivered. I hated snakes, and spiders gave me the creeps.

"Suzabella!" Mom said, actuating the Bella. "Tomorrow, take your spider-fearing, snake-dreading ass out there and fix that screen. Get the fairy to help you." Mom grinned.

I hissed and then glared at her. I hated that nickname, and she knew it. Hell, everybody knew it. Her father had dubbed me Suzabellaluna because it made my mother smile, but not because he loved me. He had told me many times how much he hated me because he knew when his daughter gave birth to me that she would never leave me, or my father, for him. The rest of the family shortened it to Suzabella.

Sonny, the resident snake shifter, winked at me. His blue eyes went all reptilian-freaky as he reached over and tapped the dragon on the knee. Eyes still on me, he said, "Jake, you want to help me fix the arachnophilia-ophidiophobe's nightmare portal tomorrow morning?"

Jake nodded. He looked tense. But then Jake always looked tense. A thin strand of smoke came out his left nostril, and the ceiling fan blew it invisible.

"Shouldn't you be hitting the sack?" I asked Jeni.

"I just told you I was helping Aunt JoAnn do surveillance tonight, Mother. Keep up." She blew on her coffee and took a noisy sip.

I wanted to say something snarky; like maybe Paul being here for the hunt had absolutely nothing with her sudden change in priorities. But thought better of it, because the truth was, Jeni did need to do surveillance. I just smiled at her.

Resi and Zaire entered the kitchen. Zaire gave Mom an angry nod. I didn't miss the raised eyebrow my mother shot back. It was the same one I got as a kid when she wanted me to stop whatever I was about to do.

Zaire's expression didn't budge.

Mom's back stiffened.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing," Mom blurted as she struggled to get up. I grabbed the back of her tee and got a hand full of spandex underneath. She bounced back down.

"You sound like Aunt JoAnn, Nan," Jeni said and topped off her coffee.

"There is not a damn thing going on." Mom slapped my hand off her shirt. Her eyebrows teamed up with a hard stare. "
Right,
Zaire?"

Zaire snorted disgust, and Resi elbowed her.

"Oh, hell yes! Somebody's hidin' somethin'," Betty strummed. "I love shit like this. Don't you Chickie?"

Mom bared her fangs, and then her eyes swept around the table. "We got business tonight. Sonny just informed us of hundreds of infected animals wandering the property. I say we go out and—"

"What'd ya do, Chick?" Betty wasn't giving up.

"Mom! You better not have caused a scene at Bingo!" I slapped a hand over my lips before my fangs could drop.

Jake squealed and squirmed on his stool.

Everyone froze, their eyes on the dragon-shifter.

Sonny backed slowly away and onto the back porch.

Holding his mouth, Jake ran out the sliding door, past Sonny, across the porch, and through the door Gibbie had flown out.

Before the attention in the room moved from Jake, a strip of fire shot from our lakeside patio and flared the length of the dock. The lake reflected it beautifully.

I heard Christopher say, "You know something we don't?"

When I turned away from the back yard, I saw the question was directed at Zaire.

Zaire placed both hands on the breakfast bar and leaned over it. "Chick stole my car at Bingo during a fifteen-minute break, drove to
Walmart
, and then killed some senior guy in the butcher shop behind the two-way mirror."

"Holy shit!" I freaked out.

Everyone else was amused.

"He begged me to kill him, Susan. He was three steps away from death's door," Mom said, and then growled at Zaire. "You little twat tattler!"

"
Supposedly
dying of cancer." Zaire rumbled deep in her throat. "He was dead when I got there, so I don't really know, do I?" Her fangs dropped, and her eyes flashed a wicked storm.

"I'd lock myself in my coffin tomorrow morning, if I was you," I told my mother, my eyes on Zaire's anger. She was not aging like the rest of us, which meant she was able to walk around the house during the day.

Betty honked a laugh. "Twat tattler? Oh my God, girl, I love it! Get ready y'all, that's gonna be my new fav-O-rite word of the month."

"Where's JoAnn?" Sonny asked, but he was still watching Jake out by the lake.

"Up in her room doing God-knows-what," Zaire spat, eyes still shooting daggers at my mother.

"You want a piece of me?" Mom shouted at Zaire. "Bring it on. I may be old, but I'm still in charge. You got a problem with that?"

Zaire's jaw tightened. With a low, slow voice, she said, "Don't worry about me. I know who I take orders from. But you should look up the word respect."

Everyone turned to my mother.

"Maybe someone should go up and check on my bible thumping, demon loving, druggy daughter," Mom said. "You think you could handle that?"

"Better than I can handle someone taking my car for a joyride that ends with the death of a human."

Zaire strutted through the kitchen.

* * *

JoAnn was bustling around upstairs in her bedroom. She adjusted three pillows at the head of Susan's coffin that she'd moved up into her bedroom a few days ago. Glancing around the white silk lining, she took an inventory: blood bags, laptop, Earth-to-Abyss hPhone, a mirror, and a pad and pencil. She looked around the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything, and climbed in, closing the lid over her head at the same time Zaire knocked on the bedroom door.

"You okay in there, JoAnn?" Zaire asked after finding the bedroom door locked.

"Yep!" JoAnn shouted from inside the coffin. "Taking a short nap."

Zaire heard the beeps of the hPhone, smiled and trotted back downstairs.

* * *