Undead and Unwelcome (14 page)

knew it was a bad idea.
Great.

Jess had gone back to her room to get dressed for the Council, and Sinclair was working

away at his laptop, when I decided to get some fresh air. I was taking a stroll down the

beach when I saw the ghost. She waved at me tentatively, and I waved back. This had

been one of the hardest things for me to get used to, almost as difficult to accept as the

fact that I had to drink blood to survive. Like the kid from
The Sixth Sense
, I saw dead

people. Also like that kid, they tended to scare the crap out of me. Given how scared I

was of ghosts and zombies, I wasn’t unaware of the irony that I was now one of the

monsters. Didn’t like it, but understood the grisly joke life (or death) had played on me.

Unfortunately, ignoring the ghosts just made it worse . . . When they saw I wasn’t

hopping to obey their edicts from beyond the grave, they got more aggressive. Hung

around all the time. Popped out of nowhere when you were, say, having sex with your

husband. My favorite ghost—Cathie, victim of the serial killer Laura had killed—and my

least favorite—the Ant—both came and went without warning. In fact, I hadn’t seen

Cathie in almost a year. This bummed me out a bit, and when I thought of her I always

hoped she’d gone on to better things. As for the Ant, I was just grateful she’d disappeared

and hadn’t come back. Yet. So, though I didn’t much want to, I walked up to the ghost

and said howdy. “Excuse me,” she said politely, interrupting me mid introduction. “But

how in the world can you see me?” “Vampire.” “But there are no vampires. And it’s still

light out.” “There are, and it is, but it’s a long story, so why don’t you just tell me why

you’re haunting the beach so we can get on with our lives? Or deaths. What-ever.” The

ghost, a pale brunette with her hair pulled back in a bun, appeared to think that over for a

bit. She was wearing clothes that were clearly from the 1960s, poor thing (of all the

decades to be trapped in, fashion-wise!), and was wearing cat’s-eye glasses. We were far

enough down the beach that my feet were getting wet as the waves slopped over them,

but they just went right through the ghost’s shoes without doing any damage. Luckily, I

was wearing last year’s sandals. “Would you mind giving a message to my son?” “If I can

find him, sure.” “Would you please tell him I would prefer he not name his unborn child

after me?” “Seriously? That’s it? That’s why your spirit can’t rest?” “My name is

Theodocia,” she said. “Oh.” The horror! “Jeez. I’m really sorry. I’ll be glad to pass that on

for you.” “Thank you kindly.”

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)
Chapter 32

Dude,
The shit officially hit the fan later that night. I was on-line, chatting with an old

boyfriend from Oregon, when I heard a racket downstairs. I logged off and went to see

what the problem was.
The problem was Laura, surrounded by people so completely

deferential to her that I knew at once we had more devil worshippers on our hands.
“You

did it?” Laura asked. “You actually did it?”
“It was easy, dread mistress! Two of us

acted as bait, and we were able to surround it and kill it with no trouble at all.”
“Kill

what?” I asked, halfway down the stairs.
Laura looked up at me and the smile dropped

off her face. “Nothing, Marc. We’re sorry to disturb you.”
“What’s going on?”
“The

Beloved of Samael has told you: nothing. Now away with you, or you’ll find out exactly

what we killed,” one of the half dozen around her snapped.
Laura rested her hand on his

shoulder. “Don’t speak to him like that,” she said quietly. “He’s my sister’s friend.”
And

yours, honey.
The man, taller than Laura by almost a foot, and at least thirty pounds

heavier, instantly acquiesced, and even bowed his head in compliance. Good dog, nice

dog, woof-woof-woof.
“Laura, what the hell is going on?”
“Come into the kitchen and

I’ll explain.” She turned to the group. “You all know what to do. Come find me tomorrow

and let me know how it went.”
There was a chorus of “Yes, dread mistress!” and “At

once, my lady!” and then they all galloped toward the foyer leading to the front door.
I

followed Laura to the kitchen, where she turned and gave me a smile that was much too

bright.
“I’m helping Betsy,” she confided.
“Uh-huh. Helping her how?”
“Well.” Laura

helped herself to a glass of milk, guzzled half of it, then continued. “You know I’ve been

worried about her ever since that awful, awful thing with Antonia.”
“Yeah,” I said, still

mystified.
“I promised myself that if I could do anything to keep her from harm, I would.

Anything in my power. Because she’s my only sister, and she can’t help being a sinner.

None of us can!”
Oh, cripes, I hated when she went on these pseudo-religious original

sin rants. But I kept a pleasantly neutral expression on my face. “And?”
“Okay. So I’ve

been trying to figure out just what I can do. And her and Sinclair going to the Cape is the

perfect time, right?”
“Why?”
“Because she listens to
him
too much,” she said

impatiently. “I warned her not to marry him, but she didn’t listen. But with
him
gone, I

only had Tina to worry about.”
The hairs on the back of my neck were trying to stand up.

Fortunately, thanks to years of practice as an MD, I was able to keep my expression

neutral. “Where
is
Tina, Laura?”
She waved that away. “Never mind. The important

thing, the most wonderful thing, is that the sinners who keep finding me—they’re helping

me save Betsy! I never would have thought of it if it hadn’t been for you, Marc.”
Oh, shit.

“Maybe you’d better not give me the credit until you tell me exactly what it is you and

the Satan Brigade have been up to.”
“Killing vampires!” Laura said brightly, oblivious

of her milk moustache.
“Killing vampires.”
“Sure. They keep coming here to pay tribute,

and we’ve managed to send almost a half dozen of them straight to my mother. Straight

to hell,” she added, unable to keep the dark satisfaction out of her voice.
“Oh my God,”

I said, appalled. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
“Of course I did. We did. You were so

right, Marc. Put the devil worshippers to work doing
good.
And I have!”
I felt my

stomach drop into my feet. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much trouble this was

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)
going to be . . . for Betsy, for Sinclair, for Laura, for me. And even if there were no

consequences to killing vampires (ha!), Laura had clearly lost it.
Her affect was all

wrong. She was smiling, laughing, happy. But her eyes had a flat shine that I didn’t like,

and she’d gone out of her way to keep this from me until I forced the issue.
Was I a

sinner, too?
Expendable?
Sure I was. The fundamentally religious were not exactly

known for their tolerance of homosexuality. Quite the opposite. I imagined it would only

be a matter of time before Laura decided she needed to “save” Betsy from me.
Who were

the vampires? What had they wanted? And what was going to happen when people

realized the queen’s sister was killing them?
Civil war?
Worse?
“Where’s Tina?” I

asked, struggling to keep my voice calm and even.
“You don’t need to worry about that,

Marc.”
“But I am, Laura. She lives here, too. She’s Betsy’s friend, just like I am.”
“Oh,

no!” Laura looked shocked at the very idea. “She’s nothing like you, Marc. And you

have to understand, I couldn’t start helping Betsy until I got
her
out of the way.”
Oh my

God.
She’d killed her. Tina was a pile of dust somewhere.
And it was all my fault.
I

pulled out my cell phone, but Laura just shook her head and smiled at me. “I cancelled

everyone’s cell service—you’re all on the same plan.”
That would explain the fact that

instead of a cell phone, I was holding a useless piece of metal and plastic.
“Oh, Laura,”

I said, and dropped my head into my hands.

Betsy!
OMG you’ve got to get back ASAP because TSIATHTF!!!! Grab the gang and

CBRA! Right now!
“You see what I mean?” I bitched, showing Jessica Marc’s latest

acronym-strewn e-mail. “How am I supposed to make heads or tails out of this? He could

be asking me to schedule a massage for all I know.” Jessica shrugged. “Can’t help you

with that one. Gives me a headache just to look at it. Besides, don’t you have more

important things to worry about?” “Damn straight. I had to listen to Sinclair’s shrill

bitching when he couldn’t make his cell phone work. Big baby—you’d think the thing was

permanently attached to his head. I suggested he call from the mansion, but his stubborn

paranoia kicked in and he refused. He’s sure the phones are all tapped. The thing of it is,

he’s probably right. Did you know the full moon is tomorrow?” “Sure.” “Can you—wait.

You did?” Jessica gave me a look. “I checked before we boarded the plane. Since we were

heading into the belly of the beast, so to speak.” “Yeah, well, I’ve had a few too many

things on my mind lately to look up things like moon phases.” “Yes, of course, for

example: Is there a shoe sale at Macy’s today?” “I hate you.” Jessica shook her head and

smiled at me. “Nice try, but I know I’m your hero.” “Hero,” I began, “isn’t exactly the

word I’d—” Sinclair stepped into the small sitting area before we could really get going,

splendidly dressed in a dark suit and his Kenneth Coles. “You clean up good,” Jessica

commented, and he bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Are you all right, hon? You

look a little distracted. Is your phone working now?” “No, they’re claiming someone

cancelled our service and it will be a few hours before the cells work. And Tina hasn’t

responded to my e-mails.” The man did pick the oddest things to fret about. “It’s probably

a bad signal or something. Besides, don’t you think we’ve got slightly more pressing

things to worry about?” “No doubt, my love. I suggest we try to reconcile with the

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
) Council tonight so as not to face several hundred angry werewolves tomorrow evening.”

“Say it twice,” I said, inwardly groaning. Man oh man, the hits just kept on coming. I

actually envied Marc, back in St. Paul with nothing more pressing to worry about than

whether or not he had time to hit Cub Foods before his shift started. Lucky bastard.

We were back in the ballroom, except it had been set up almost like a courtroom. A long

table was at the front of the room, and hundreds of chairs were scattered about. Because

we weren’t sure just what everyone’s problem with BabyJon was, I had prevailed upon

Jessica to watch him for me during the whole Council thing. She’d protested—boy, had

she protested, my ears were still ringing—but finally agreed. Good thing, too, because

after last night I didn’t trust anyone out here to watch him, except maybe for Sara. And I

didn’t like asking favors from someone I’d just met. I had dressed up for the occasion, as

Sinclair had, in a knee-length black dress with a simple strand of pearls my mom had given

me for my sweet sixteen. Manolo pumps in deep purple—they went with almost

everything, especially black—completed the picture of a sophisticated vampire queen

(ha!). “Perhaps we should discuss a plan in case things do not go our way this evening,”

Sinclair murmured, his hand on the small of my back as we walked in. “Run like hell?” I

suggested, and he grinned, whip-quick, there and gone almost before I could register the

expression. Michael came forward to greet us, Jeannie right beside him as usual. “Hello,

Betsy. Hello, Eric. Thank you for coming.” Sure, pal. Like we had a choice. “I’ll introduce

you to the Council, and they’ll ask you some questions about what happened the night

Antonia was killed.” “As you like,” Sinclair said politely. “Good luck,” a familiar voice

said, and I turned and saw Sara, who looked ready to pop at any second. Extremely

pregnant women make me nervous; it’s like hanging around a ticking time bomb. “I’m

sure you’ll be fine. Where’s the baby?” I started to answer, when Michael said, “What

baby?” Seriously? He’d forgotten about BabyJon
again
? Okay, that was enough. Once

this Council thing was taken care of, I was getting to the bottom of this. It was just too

effing weird. “Never mind,” I said hurriedly before Sinclair, who looked decidedly