Fashionably Dead (44 page)

I rolled my eyes and an uncontrollable smile split my face. “Fine. Do it.” I turned away and threw myself back into the fight before I changed my mind. I had certainly already lost it. I had just sentenced myself to an eternity of being called an irresponsible slut. I should be filled with dread. I wasn’t. I felt proud. Therapy . . . I definitely needed therapy.

Oh God, no . . . Angelina Jinkers-Pitt lay scattered in pieces all over the floor. Brad ran around picking up her body parts and trying to put them back together. His tear-drenched eyes met mine.

“Help me,” he moaned. “If we find it all, they can sew it back on.” He held her arm up to her hand to make his point. His voice was rough with shock. “I need some ice so she doesn’t turn black. Do you have any ice on you, darlin’? I need ice for my baby . . . ” He began to shake violently, then began to vomit. He tried to pick up the pieces of his wife that he had dropped, but he slipped in her blood and landed on the pile that used to be Angelina.

This shit had to stop. Who the fuck did these Rogues think they were? They were destroying my people. The backward-ass rednecks that I loved. They had to die.

Amidst the raging battle, I gently picked Brad up off of what was left of Angelina and made eye contact with Heathcliff. He was beneath one of the windows, just having completely torn apart three rogues with his bare hands. He nodded. I threw Brad across the room and Heathcliff flew him to safety. I looked at poor Angelina. She was mean, but she didn’t deserve this. I swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat and dove back in with a vengeance.

I heard a scream and my body went cold. Gemma. She wasn’t equipped to fight these bastards. Why in the hell did I let her come tonight? She could die because of me. My eyes flashed and my fists clenched. Damn it, I could hear her . . . why couldn’t I see her?

“Over there,” Venus shouted, and pointed to the far left side of the building.

There she was. Three Rogues had her. One held a dagger to her neck, while the other two pinned her to the wall.

“Come and get her,” a male Rogue hissed at me.

Shit, shit, shit.
I tried to enter their minds so I could make them explode, but they were closed to me. Why were they closed to me?

I approached slowly, dropping my katana and dagger as I went. How was I going to kill them without hurting Gemma? I held my hands up. “Let her go,” I ground out. “If you do, you can leave free and clear.”

“You will join us, Astrid,” the female spat. Her eyes were wild and unfocused.

“Yes,” I said. “I will go with you.”

“No,” Gemma gasped. “Baby.”

She did know. She knew I had my baby inside of me. I felt a tingling in my stomach. It wasn’t the nausea I’d been experiencing. It was magical. It was a beautiful little spark of life. I smiled reassuringly at Gemma with a strength and purpose I never knew I possessed. I had a better chance of getting away from the Rogues than she did. She had no chance at all. I loved her so much. There was no way in hell she was going to die today, and neither was I. We had far too much to live for.

Gemma’s eyes began to turn an icy silver blue. She was furious. The Rogues were so fixated on me they didn’t seem to notice that the beautiful little Fairy they had trapped was morphing into a god-awful looking monster.

She was magnificent. She glowed an iridescent silver and became the size of a large SUV. She was covered in silver and golden scales and her fangs made my fangs look like baby teeth. Her claws were obscene and as sharp as knives. I was astonished. I clapped my hands together in delight for my beautifully grotesque best friend.

She ripped into the Rogues with a viciousness I’d never seen. I’d heard Fairies were incredible warriors, but this was crazy. She cut one Rogue completely in half, starting at the head and ending at the crotch. The other two screamed and tried to run, but she pierced them with her claws. She swung them around violently before she popped them into her mouth and ate them.

Alrighty then . . . didn’t see that one coming.

“Well, I do believe that was the fourth Mortal String,” Gemma’s sweet voice said, coming out of the bloody-fanged mouth of her alter ego. “Can you believe I ate them?” she giggled.

“Um . . . no,” I said, retrieving my katana and dagger. “That was pretty fucking gross,” I told her.

“Yep,” she agreed, “but they were tasty.” She paused. “I don’t really know how to change back.”

The Rogues had frozen when Gemma shifted and the Elite Guard had captured them, tying them up with barbed silver chains, silver handcuffs and leg shackles. Only ten out of the thirty had survived.

I scanned the room and took inventory of my people. I knew Ethan had taken Luke, Princess Raquel and Princess Lelia to go after Juliet. I had so many questions for that bitch. Most of the Elite guard was accounted for. The King and Sir James were with Heathcliff, Cathy and Venus. I knew Paris had left with the old ladies, so everyone was here and okay.

Samuel.

“Where is Samuel?” I demanded.

Venus looked down. Heathcliff stepped forward and took my hands, “He didn’t make it.”

“Where is he?” My voice broke and my eyes filled.

Heathcliff led me to Samuel’s body. He’d been decapitated. I felt raw and jagged inside. He was my friend and I loved him. I sat down on the floor and took his broken body into my arms and I cried. I tried to push his head back onto his shoulders. It rolled off and nestled close to my thigh. I felt a kinship with Brad Pitt in that moment. I wanted to put some ice on Samuel and sew him back together. I could still hear his voice, giving me shit and encouragement at the same time. He and The Kev had made me the fighter that I had become. He made me feel good about being a Vampyre. He was my friend when everyone else treated me like a pariah. I was going to miss him terribly. How in the hell could the Chosen One not save one of her chosen ones?

I felt something pounding deep within my body. If I’d had a working heart, that’s what it would have sounded like as it broke . . . but I didn’t. It was grief—mind-numbing, angry grief. Samuel turned to dust in my arms. Oh my God . . . my wish. I still had my wish. My mood shifted from despair to pure joy. Magic flowed through me, everyone within ten feet of me getting doused with Fairy Glitter.

“Hear Me, O Fairies,” I sang out in a strong voice. I clutched handfuls of Samuel’s dust. “Please give my friend Samuel back his life . . . that is my wish.”

I closed my eyes and the building began to shake. My body was suffused with heat and Samuel’s ashes were on fire. Literally. I dropped his dust and scooted away. And then . . . nothing.

I turned to Gemma. My desperation was palpable. “My wish . . . can’t I use my wish?”

“It’s too late,” she whispered, her huge gleaming body pressing against mine.

“What do you mean?” I shouted, scattering what remained of Samuel everywhere.

“In order to bring someone back, they must still have a body.”

I hated her answer and I tried to hurt her. I slammed my body into hers as my tears blinded me. “Why don’t you help me . . . why? You’re the fucking Fairy Queen,” I screamed.

“It’s not my place to determine fate, Astrid,” she said, her own sparkling tears flowing. “I’m not God.”

I looked at Samuel’s ashes, feeling shame that I hadn’t saved him. I slowly turned to Gemma and additional shame washed over me. She tentatively held her arms out and to me and I collapsed into her hulking embrace.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” she said. “I’m sorry too.”

Chapter 41

Sixteen mortals and twenty Rogue Vampyres died. Eight of the Elite Guard had died, including my Samuel.

“How do we explain this?” I asked Heathcliff. The death toll was high and the damage was massive.

“Fire,” he said.

“What fire?” I looked around to make sure we weren’t on the verge of getting crispy.

“The fire we will start when we’re done in here.”

“What about the humans that escaped?” I asked. The horrific image of my townsfolk all battered and bloody as we flew them to safety was stuck in my head, but that paled in comparison to Brad Pitt sobbing over Angelina lying dead and mutilated on the ground. I pushed the images away.

To pay my respects to Samuel, I would stay strong. He always told me to cry hard and then get over it. After that, laugh heartily and go out and kill something. Ahhh, the logic of a very old Vampyre . . . I wasn’t sure I could do it, but I’d try. I had already cried. Now it was time to move on, laugh and kick some ass.

“The humans have been tranced. They believe a fire broke out during the memorial and people got trapped,” Heathcliff said, briskly assessing the damage in the room.

“What about bones and DNA and things left in the ash that could cause questions and lead to problems far bigger than what we’re dealing with here?” I had a hard time comprehending problems bigger than what I was looking at, but I knew they existed.

“Don’t worry,” Heathcliff assured me. “There will be nothing left after this fire.” He glanced quickly at Gemma. “Are you stuck like that?”

“Not sure.” She shrugged her massive shoulders.

“Gem, where is The Kev?” I asked, still awed by her transformation.

“He’s forbidden to come to me until I have completed the fourth Mortal String. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I need to shift back before I’m done. I wish to God I knew how. I’m feeling a little self-conscious like this,” she giggled. It was beyond surreal to hear a huge, scaly monster giggle, but leave it to Gemma to make the stuff of nightmares appealing.

“Okay then.” Heathcliff considered the options. “We could probably cover Gemma with those sheets draped over that . . . what is that?” he asked, referring to the mound on the far side of the room.

“It’s a monument.” I shook my head. “I’d like to make it clear that I had nothing to do with it. My sister . . . or rather . . . ” I looked to the King. “Your dau . . . ”

“We’ll discuss that later,” Heathcliff cut me off. “When we are sure.”

He raised an eyebrow and I nodded. It would be cruel to say something to the King, if Julie wasn’t Juliet. Although the chances of that were slim to none.

“Hey, I know,” Gemma volunteered. “I’m the size of a truck,” she laughed. “Just cover me and put me behind one of your vehicles and pretend to tow me back to the Cressida House.”

“Good God almighty.” Venus threw her head back and let out a huge peal of laughter. “That I’ve gotta see.”

“You had best not be laughing at me,” Gemma warned Venus, her silver-blue eyes twinkling. “I eat people.”

Venus squealed and darted away from Gemma’s massive body. “I’ll go get your outfit,” she laughed as she ran to the other side of the room to retrieve the sheets.

I tentatively let my lips curve into a smile. The moment I did, I felt Samuel’s spirit pass through me. It tickled and a small laugh escaped from my sad body. A warmth folded around me for a heartbeat and then floated away. I felt sure that Samuel would be hanging out with my Nana in Heaven. I knew I was going to be okay. Samuel would expect me to be okay.

There was an audible gasp as Venus revealed the monument. It was the tomb. The tomb from my dreams. How was that possible?

“My God.” The King was awestruck. “It looks like a crypt for a Queen. A Queen from when I was human.”

I knew they were discussing the tomb, but I couldn’t hear them. All I could make out was static. A compulsion, stronger than any I’d ever known controlled me. I walked slowly toward the tomb, my hands outstretched. I could feel the tingling in my fingertips. It quickly spread down my arms, through my chest and into my legs. I knew my heart lay dormant in my body, but I would swear I felt it pounding in my chest. My stomach twisted and although I didn’t breathe I felt like I was suffocating. A gust of wind burst through the Town Hall and blew my hair wildly around my head. The sense of deja vu was chilling.

“Push, Astrid,” she gasped. Oh my God, the lady was in the tomb.

I placed both of my hands on the tomb and began to push. The tomb started to crumble under my fingers. The stone turned to cold hard diamonds—beautiful sparkling sharp ice that sliced into my hands. My hands bled, but I didn’t stop. I was so close. The blood ran from my hands, down my arms and seeped into the soft white cotton of my shirt. The stunning diamonds were awash in my blood . . . I knew if I pushed a little more . . . I could . . . The pain was becoming intolerable. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert, screaming for me to stop.

If I could just push harder . . . I felt silk, soft slippery silk between my fingers. Her dress . . . I was touching her dress. I was so close to her. I knew I could save her. I needed to pull her out. I looked down and watched my blood turn her beautiful sheer, green silk dress to crimson. She was laughing with joy. She was so proud of me. I had waited my whole life to hear her tell me she loved . . .

A brilliant flash of light exploded as the tomb continued to crumble. I backed away as the light bounced around the room, momentarily blinding me. Streaks of red lightening zipped down from the ceiling, bathing the rubble in an angry pink glow. Where in the hell was the tomb lady?

“Hello, Astrid,” a hollow voice rasped.