Dead Vampires Don't Date (17 page)

"Stop!"

Ivan released me. My knees buckled. I thrust my hands forward and caught myself just before I slammed face first into the floor. Black dots swirled in front of me. The room tilted and whirled.

"You don't have any proof."

Ivan set his foot against my leg. "I found blood in the alley. Right outside
her
backdoor." He pressed the tip of his boot into my thigh. "I'll have the body soon." He shoved. I flew several feet before I crashed onto my side, gasping for air. "Then I'll have my proof."

His boots left my field of vision and my severely bruised thigh. Thank the Spirits.

The door shut.

Check the door.
Always check to see who is at the door first. I'd remember that for the rest of my life, however long or short that turned out to be.

Hands gripped my shoulders and dragged me upright. "Kate? Are you all right?" Morgan shook me.

"Not helping." I wobbled back and forth like a rag doll. "Still can't breathe." Actually, I could breathe. I sucked air in and out of my lungs, heaving as if a giant wave had caught me by surprise. It was a reflexive response on my part to being nearly choked to death.

I regretted saying it the moment my head hit the floor. Morgan dropped me on the back wobble. I went down in a boneless heap.

"Shit." She crouched next to me. "Kate?"

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just give me a minute." I sucked air. My head throbbed. I tried really hard not to cry.

Gradually, my breathing returned to a near normal level. My head hurt like a new division of Hell had been created and taken up residence inside my skull. My thigh throbbed.

And I still wanted to cry.

That vampire scared the shit out of me and now I knew my stupidity was going to get Morgan killed right along with me.

"You've got to leave."

"Why?" Morgan lifted my legs about a foot into the air. It almost made me smile. She loved to watch crime shows on TV. Unfortunately, that's also where she got all of her mortal first aid knowledge. Most of the people on those shows were already dead.

Just like we were going to be.

"He's going to kill you too, Morgan." I whispered. My throat was too bruised to yell. "You should leave. Go far away from me and tell everyone I killed the prince."

"No."

The band across my chest eased. I didn't want to be noble. I didn't want to be alone. I also didn't want to be responsible for the death of my best friend. And I really didn't want to die either.

"Morgan." I choked on her name.

"We need to move the body."

That struck me as a really stupid idea. I didn't want to go anywhere near that body. It had caused me way too much grief, not to mention the possibility of my own life.

"I think we should leave the body where it is." I know death doesn't bother Morgan. She's a vamp. She sort of lives it every day.

I'm a witch. It freaks me out. Especially the thought of my own impending death.

"We've got bigger problems right now."

I opened my eyes. Morgan sat cross-legged next to my hip. She held both of my legs up with one hand, arm bent at a right angle. She tapped her other fist restlessly on her knee.

As long as Ivan didn't find the body, no matter how much he threatened and terrified me, he didn't have any proof. That ice might be thin enough I could count the minnows waiting to nibble on me, but it still held. I couldn't see the problem.

Keep the body buried and find Tommy. Worked for me.

"Remember that presence I felt the night we buried the body?"

A witness? That could cause all sorts of problems.

"It was Ivan."

I couldn't think. For one lovely moment, my mind went completely blank. No fear. No worries. Just blissful emptiness.

Then the panic set in.

That son of a bitch. I'd never stood chance.

24.
I've Got To Get Rid Of The Body.

"
Ivan?" I simply had to repeat it.

I
knew
I heard her just fine. If Morgan said Ivan's name, she meant him. She hadn't met him before now. He had been the presence that night. I understood this. Sort of. A portion of my brain did at any rate. It even marveled at his cunning. The fuck-head assassin vampire knew all along that Morgan and I had buried the body of the prince in the woods. He knew it to be a fact. Everything else had been a bonus for him. His questions, threats, bullying and torment - it had all been part of a game for him.

He'd played me like a well-tuned harp from the start. A sick Machiavellian torture for the half-breed. I imagined him laughing -
laughing
- right now while I lay on the floor of my own office, throat nearly crushed, struggling to breathe.

Part of my brain did understand this. A small part. Most of it simply screamed. Loudly. Furiously. Murderously.

"Ivan." Morgan nodded once.

For a few minutes we didn't say anything. I knew whatever I said would come out wrong, probably incoherent and loaded with a multitude of ways to make certain I stayed in trouble and on the verge of death. I had absolutely no issues with murder, blood or decapitation at the moment.

I didn't know what Morgan thought. I hoped it was along my own thought patterns.

"How?" I croaked. I coughed, wheezed and choked a little more. As soon as I had the breath for it, I'd heal my throat. Then I planned to scream until I had to heal myself all over again.

That son of a bitch.

"What?" Morgan asked, distracted. She raised my legs and lowered them incrementally as if lifting weights. Her white bicep flexed slowly, her mind focused elsewhere.

I rolled my hips and tried to maintain my balance. I made a small effort to gain her attention, but most of my focus remained on simply breathing and figuring out the answer to my question. I wanted to know how much pain I should inflict the moment I got my chance.

My mother isn't the only one to relish - and coddle - a grudge.

"How?" I asked in near silence. "How did Ivan know we were there?" It's a damn good thing Morgan has super senses. I lapsed back into a fit of coughing.

Morgan propped her elbow on her knee and cupped her chin. She continued to bench press my lower half absently. "He's a royal guard. He has been with the royal family since before they came to America." She tapped one long finger rhythmically against her cheek.

"I figure the Queen sent him with Xavier when he started his tour. Xavier probably told Ivan to keep his distance. He was always a hothead." She narrowed her eyes. "Ivan would have scented the blood that night. He's old enough to pick up that scent from very far away and to know it was the Prince's blood."

She paused, tilted her chin. "Vampires have very strict rules when it comes to murder. Especially the murder of one of our own. We like to make the execution of the killer very public and very painful."

Oh joy. I'd heard rumors, but that's all they'd been. The killing of any immortal is always headline news in the HC. And it rarely happens. The murder of a vampire even less common. They take great pleasure in making certain the consequences are well known, a grotesque warning to anyone stupid enough to try it again.

It's been hundreds and hundreds of years since the last vampire murder trial. Never known nor even whispered about by the humans, the HC rarely speak of it.

Supposedly the Queen has a fingernail that rests inside one of the lockets she wears. A fingernail. That's all there is left.

Bile surged to my throat.

"Ivan knew we buried the body and where, but he didn't have any proof. He'd need that." Morgan's eyes popped wide, large emerald circles stark against the white of her skin. "But only for so long."

"What?"

"I can't believe I forgot that." She smacked her palm against her forehead. "It's been so long and . . ."

"Morgan!" Pure dread fought with nausea, tightening the muscles in my throat, completely destroying the progress I'd made so far.

She met my eyes straight on. "Kate, if a vampire is killed, we only wait so long before seeking justice for that murder. We've survived this long on fear. We can't afford to let that slip." My lungs quit functioning. "The killer has to be exposed and made an example of. Actual proof isn't needed if it can't be found. The example is the important thing."

"If we can't locate Tommy . . ." She didn't need to draw me a picture.

I shoved frantically to my feet. I made it to the toilet just in time. My bruised throat protested the additional trauma. I gagged and choked, struggling to heave the contents of my stomach into the toilet and not drown in it. I vomited until I had nothing left.

At last I lay on my side, shuddering on the cold floor.

"Kate?" Morgan sat cross-legged in the doorway. "We made it worse by asking questions." She stared over my head at nothing as she spoke. "Now people know the prince is missing and that we are somehow involved."

She looked at me, the horror of the moment, the vast distance of time, locked together. "How could I have forgotten? How did this happen?"

I knew she didn't mean this moment, this total train wreck we were on. She meant the encroachment of time, the passing of memories, the smugness of immortality that creeps over the HC and blankets their view, their perspective. Their knowledge of what is and what isn't.

"How did this happen?" She repeated.

I didn't know what to say.

****

"
Quit blaming yourself." We'd re-hashed and talked and beaten ourselves up long enough. I knew by the dim green of her eyes, Morgan had no plans to stop obsessing.

I understood.

However, my brain had decided to take the blank way out. Shockingly, not my typical ostrich approach either. I was overwhelmed. Utterly overwhelmed.

A sort of peace had descended over me. I'm quite sure it's the same calm Marie Antoinette felt moments before the blade slid down.
There is nothing I can do about this.

I wasn't giving up, far from it. But I couldn't keep on top of that Titanic. My brain had simply booted that giant boat and enormous iceberg into a cage and shut the door. I could see through the bars, but I had some perspective.

We needed to focus on the here and now. Nothing else mattered.

A little part of my brain said it was survival instinct. I wanted to cheer. At least some part of my brain still believed I'd live.

Yay me.

"You're right. We should move the body." There are just certain things you never want to hear yourself say.

"I don't know." Morgan shook her head. I'd never seen her at such a loss. I didn't ever want to again.

"You can sense him, right?" I hated to do it, push her. She's my UDBF and I'm not used to seeing her vulnerable, but we had to do something. I'd reached my limit with fuck-head Ivan. There was no way in Hell - any realm - that I planned to let that bastard win.

"Yes," Morgan said quietly. "I can sense him."

"Good. Then we'll go get the body, move it someplace." I waved my hand. Anywhere. We'd deal with that once we had the body. "I can say I was looking for the Prince due to my agency and if Ivan doesn't know we've moved it, he can't claim the prince is even dead." I paused. "Actually dead."

Morgan's eyes snapped into focus. "And then we won't be dead."

I nodded. Morgan smiled widely, displaying her fangs. "I like that plan."

So did I.

Better yet, the shadows had disappeared and her eyes gleamed bright green again. I could actually see the wheels spinning as she thought of places to move the prince. I'd leave that part to her. She had more experience in body burial.

"I want to stop by my place first." I'd cast my healing spell the minute I'd crawled up off the floor. And strapped on my harness. I planned to sleep with the damn thing, sore shoulders are a small price to pay.

"I want to pick up a few extra stakes, a knife, and I think I've got some Holy Water in a spray bottle somewhere." Those few items would take care of the majority of the HC. I couldn't forget that I still had an un-named, un-traceable attacker out there.

Spirits forbid I forget that tiny tidbit of my existence.

"Fuck-head is right. I can barely defend myself against an attack." I hated being in an agreement of any sort with that assassin.

"When did Ivan say that?" Morgan shot me a hard glance.

"Earlier while he was strangling me." Damn it.

"He mentioned the attack on you specifically?"

I thought about it. "Yes. He said I couldn't defend myself against him, let alone the smallest of attacks." Not like I'd forget anything he said.

"How did he know that you'd been attacked?"

"He . . ." Huh. How did he know? He hadn't been there and I'd healed myself completely until he'd shown up again. It's not like I bragged about getting the crap beat out of me. I frowned at her. "I don't know."

"He must know who it is," Morgan growled. "He probably sent it after you. He's old enough to know what kind of creature can hide their scent. That son of a bitch probably knows more than the rest of us have forgotten." Her voice quivered, but she fisted her hands at the same time.

Go Morgan.

"I'm really getting tired of him having the upper hand," I muttered. "In everything."

Morgan rolled her shoulders once. "Me too."

I nodded slowly. Admitting to myself that I'd reached the point of murder is one thing. Discussing it out loud with my best friend, quite another.

I had fear, desperation and a flat out need to eliminate him as a threat to my life. Plus he enjoyed hurting me - physically, mentally, anyway he could. I don't consider myself petty. I have grudges and they don't bother me. That's not petty, it's just part of being human.

I'd moved beyond wanting revenge. I'd reached a new playing field completely. I wanted to
cackle
while I stomped on his bloody body.

I didn't care about justice so much. If we got rid of Ivan, I wouldn't hunt down Tommy. He'd had his reasons. Murder is wrong. I know that. But sometimes, occasionally, there can come a time when it is necessary.

I understood the temptation of the dark side. My dark side. Yet another thing I could lay at Ivan's feet.

As for Morgan, her life was at stake too. Thanks to me. She's over fifteen hundred years old. I had no idea if she appreciated life more after having lived it so long, but I knew she wasn't ready to die. No one ever is. It's the one thing the humans and the HC have in common.

I did know one didn't get to be so old without gaining a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Morgan had it in spades. I loved her all that much more for it.

Ivan had put a big dent in that arrogance. Luckily, Morgan shared my view on grudges.

"I think that will have to be next on our list." I said, various possibilities of Ivan's death flickering through my mind..

Her eyes glowed green fire. She smiled slowly. Then she flicked a fang.

Blood-thirsty always looks good on Morgan.

I sort of enjoyed it myself
.

****

I had to admit, ridiculously expensive and regrettably plain or not, my new broom totally rocked. Maybe they truly did hire a doctorate level warlock who knew how mix his flying spells with some plain yellow paint which created a new physics formula for flying, but that baby was one smooth ride.

I brushed treetops with barely a flutter of leaves. Coasted alongside the most inattentive goose I've ever seen and tried a couple of whoop-de-whoops just for fun.

My curls didn't even get messed up.

I touched down under the tree between my neighbor's yard and mine. Morgan landed beside me.

"Nice broom."

I held it in one hand, spun it around. "Yep, it really is." It didn't mean I planned to put my tomato throwing, totally juvenile stunt on hold. Questioning Teri was on my list. The one with the clause about still being around to actually use the list. And if that witch overcharged me, I'd take action.

And then possibly write a nice letter to the amazing warlock responsible for my sweet new ride.

We headed towards the front door. Morgan turned her head side to side.

"You sense anything?" I asked.

Surely Ivan had gotten his kicks for the evening and was off somewhere savoring a glass of blood and thinking of his next torture victim.

"No."

Excellent.

"I'll wait here."

I nodded. It would be best if I dealt with him alone. I unlocked my door at the top of the steps. Big Al sat two feet inside.

"You're home early, Doll."

"Yeah. I'm just picking up a few things." I hurried past him. "Morgan and I have another appointment."