The killer turned and came into the basement. Saw us. (Well, most of us. . . not Cathie. ) Looked startled, then quickly recovered. "Carrie, I told you, no friends over on a school night. "
"My name isn't Carrie," Mrs. Scoman whispered. She wouldn't look at the killer.
Cathie stepped into his chest and stood inside him. "Asshole. Jerkoff. Tyrant. Fuckwad," she informed him from inside his own head. "Loser. Virgin. Dimwit. Ass-hat. God, what I wouldn't give to be corporeal right now!"
"It's overrated," I mumbled.
"I can't believe this loser's face was the last thing I saw. "
"You aren't the foster kids," the psycho nutjob killer said, looking puzzled. "I thought the kids at the end of the block broke my window again. "
"Score," I said under my breath, tugging away. "What did I say? Huh?"
"Yeah, you actually had a good idea," Cathie snarked. "And we're not calling the police right this second why again?"
"Why did you kill those women?" Laura asked, the way you'd ask someone why they picked a red car over a blue one. "Why did you steal Mrs. Scoman?"
"Because they're mine," he explained, the way you'd explain about owning a shirt. Everyone was being all calm and civilized, and it was freaking me the hell out. I could smell trouble. Not a huge talent, given the circumstances, but it was still making me twitchy as a cat in heat. "They're all mine. Carrie forgot, so I have to keep reminding her. "
"Psycho!" I coughed into my fist.
"Did you really," Laura began, and then had to try again, "did you really strangle them until they pooped, and then make fun of them after you stole their clothes?"
"Laura, he's crazy. You're not going to get a straight answer. Look at him!"
Unfortunately, looking at him didn't help: he looked like a lawyer on casual Fridays. Nice, clean blue work shirt. Khakis. Penny loafers. Not at all like the slobbering nutjob he obviously was.
Then he fucked himself forever by saying, "It sucks when you get the bra off and find out they don't have a decent rack. I don't mind them lying about that other stuff, but tell the truth about your tits, that's what my dad used to say. Otherwise, it's like lying. "
Then, of course, he was dead, because Laura leaned down, picked up a chunk of wood off the pile, and broke his head in half. I screamed. Mrs. Scoman screamed. Even Cathie screamed, but I think she was happy. I wasn't. I was in Hell. I think Mrs. Scoman thought so, too. Chapter 38
I used my vampire mojo to convince Mrs. Scoman she had escaped and had no idea why the killer was dead, or who had killed him. I reminded her to tell Nick and the task force the killer's address. We thought she'd make out okay. . . none of the killer's blood was on her. It was all over Laura.
"Okay," I said on the way home. "I'm a little concerned. "
"I lost my temper," Laura said, looking out the window. "I'll be the first to admit it. "
"Freak!" Cathie sang from the backseat.
"That's another thing," I snapped, glaring into the rearview mirror. "You're supposed to disappear and be in heaven or wherever you people go after I've fixed your problem. "
"Yeah, I know, but I kind of like this. "
"What?"
"This. " She waved her ghostly hands through my head. I shuddered, and the car swerved. "How cheated was I? Repeat after me: promising life cut short. "
"Yeah, but. . . " I paused delicately. "You're dead. It's time to move on. "
"Look who's talking. Besides, I helped you, right? I could get into the house when you guys were standing out on the lawn like jerks. I think I could be pretty good at this. Anyway, I think I'll hang around. "
"Oh, Christ on crackers. "
"What?"
"Good to have you aboard!" I said with fake heartiness.
"She's still here?" Laura asked. "That's odd. "
"Don't try to change the subject! You murdered that guy. He was just standing there, and you killed him!"
"Killed him dead," Cathie agreed. "Like a big blond roach motel. She's a freak, but I'm totally in love with your sister right now. "
"You stay out of this. "
"If you think about it, the whole thing is kind of my fault," Cathie confessed.
"Never mind! Laura, what were you thinking?"
"That I was very very very very angry? And it upset me to know he would be walking around breathing the same air as my folks?"
Points for honesty, at least. "Laura, it's like this. I don't know if you're having a bad month, or if certain prophecies are coming to light, or what, but I gotta admit, I'm concerned. Okay? I mean, I'm a vampire and I'm not going around-okay, I am, but that's a totally different thing. "
"I know it was wrong," Laura said, looking at me with guileless blue eyes, "but you have to admit, it will be difficult for him to take off his belt and strangle any more women after today. Won't it?" She almost smiled, and was that a flash of green I saw in her eyes?
I decided it was my imagination.
Before I could take the issue further-not that I had the slightest idea what to say, not exactly having the moral high ground-the blue Mustang behind me flashed its high beams twice. Then it snuggled right up on my bumper, and my cell phone vibrated.
"Do they give dead people speeding tickets?" Cathie asked.
"That's no cop, that's my fiance. " I hummed the first few lines of "My Boyfriend's Back" and then answered the phone. Chapter 39
"Eric, it was just an ordinary guy this time! It's not like I got tricked by vampires or got stuck in the middle of another coup. "
He put his hands behind his back. I knew why; it was so he wouldn't choke me. "What is this aversion you have to waiting for my assistance?"
"It's not aversion. You're just never around when I need you. Hum. Okay, that sounded nicer in my head. Hey, I did call you. It's not my fault you didn't answer your cell. "
"I was available twenty seconds later! You were physically unable to wait less than half a minute?"
"Well, I kind of wish we had, because the thing is. . . " I burst into tears.
"Oh, Elizabeth, don't do that. " He snuggled me into his arms. "Was I shouting? I won't apologize for worrying, but I will clarify: I was concerned, not angry. "
"It's not that. Laura-she killed the bad guy. "
"And that's. . . er, bad?"
"It's how she did it. He didn't even attack us or anything. He was just standing there. And there were all these piles of wood in the basement, because he has-had-a wood-burning stove, and she leaned over and picked up a big old chunk of wood, and just beaned him with it! And I heard the crack-I heard his head break!" I shuddered. "And brains-did you know brains are pink and red? Don't answer that," I ordered tearfully. "And all this stuff came out. And he was just. . . dead. And she didn't even care! Just said later that she lost her temper. "
"That. . . is cause for concern," he said after a moment's thought. "I must admit, I have. . . dispatched. . . my share of societal burdens in my day. But Laura seems to be-"
"Going over to the dark side. "
"Or something," he agreed. "But it could be argued that she saved lives. "
"Definitely it could be argued. I guess Driveway Jerk had this thing for short-haired blondes because when he was a teen, this girl named-never mind, it's creepy and stupid at the same time. And he was just driving around, looking for the right type to be in the right spot at the right time! Tell me how that can be allowed to happen in a sane world. You could be putting your groceries away ten minutes later and not be killed. "
"But you and Laura are in a sane world," he suggested. "Righting wrongs. "
"I really don't think this is the tactic we should use when talking to her about this, okay?" I pulled away so I could look into his eyes. "And see this? How I came right home and told you everything and we're discussing it like sane people who talk to each other?"
"Well, I did follow you to be sure you were g
oing to do that," he admitted.
"This, this is what couples do! Kuh-MYUN-ih-kate. Memorize the word, Sinclair. Practice it. "
"Consider me chastened. " He didn't look terribly repentant, though. "Getting back to the matter of your sister. . . "
"I don't know what to do. What can I tell her, killing is wrong? Of course it's wrong, everybody knows that. She knows it, too. The problem is, that only makes us the biggest hypocrites in the world. Not to mention, it's not like she killed a Girl Scout. She did the world a favor. So what do I say to her?"
"That you're watching," he said quietly. "We're all watching. "
"I think I'll take the 'we'll be there for you' tactic on that one. "
"Either way. Come here, now, darling, sit down. " He rubbed my shoulders, and I sat on the bed. "You've had a tough week, haven't you?"
"It's my new worst week ever," I sniveled.
"Well, in light of our new 'tell all' policy, I have some news for you. "
I sighed and rested my forehead on his shoulder. "Who's dead now?"
"The Star Tribune has picked up your 'Dear Betsy' column. "
"What?" I jerked my head up. "There've only been, what? Two newsletters? And I thought that was impossible! Anybody seeing the newsletter!"
"Supposedly it was. Marjorie is beside herself. Heads will roll, I can assure you. Possibly literally. We suspect either a member of the Tribune payroll is a vampire, or an enterprising human hacked into her system and gave it to a reporter. "
"So what's-what's going to happen?"
"Fortunately, feedback seems to be that it's not to be taken seriously. The editor thinks it is a joke, the readers seem to like it, and the readers who are vampires are keeping their mouths shut. "
"So only a few people in the city know it's a real letter to real vampires?"
"Yes. And because Marjorie's discretion is on the line, she is moving heaven and earth to find out who is responsible. I imagine we'll have some answers on that in a short time. "
"Well. . . I guess things could be worse. "
"They are about to get that way, I assure you. "
I groaned and flopped down on the bed. "This whole tell-each-other-everything debacle, you're punishing me for it now, aren't you?"
"Darling, you know I live to obey your slightest whim. When before, I sought to protect you from the problems of governing a nation, now I see it was merely my ham-handed way of repressing you. Well, those days are over!" he declared, over my moans of horror.
"Whereas in the past I felt discretion was the better part of valor-"
"Oh, now you're just making shit up to fuck with me. "
"-now all must be revealed, constantly. "
"Look, I figured out that you don't keep things from me to be mean. You just can't help it. "
"Ah, but starting now, I shall help it. "
"I get that you think solving problems for me proves your worth. "
He sniffed. "I wouldn't go that far. "
"You can't help it, you're in lurrrrrvvv. "
"Stop that. I was going to tell you, Jon has transcribed nearly the entire first draft of your little tell-all. "
"I thought it was going to be, like, a paper. "
"It's turning into a book, dear. Three hundred pages at last count. "
"Oh, he told you this?"
"It's possible I had Tina hack into his Sidekick," he admitted.
"Nice! Well, this is nothing new, right?"
"Given the fallout from the Tribune picking up your column-"
"What fallout? I thought everybody agreed it was a joke. "
"-I got Jon alone and convinced him he had never written the book, never had the idea, never had any interest in your life story. "
"Oh, Christ. "
"Then I erased it. "
"Oh, Sinclair. Oh, boy. " I put my hands over my eyes. "This is going to be a bad one. "
"You may proceed," he said, "with the yelling. "
I tried to get myself under control. He did it out of love.
Misguided, weird love, but love. He's trying to protect you. In a misguided, weird way.
"Okay, Eric, that was bad. Pretty bad. And I think, after what Jon has done for us, I think you should undo your mojo. "
"But I went to all that trouble," he explained patiently, like I didn't get what he had done, "to be sure he forgot everything. "
"And now I want you to make him remember! Look, he'll flunk his class, among other things. You really want him moping around here because he got an F in bio or whatever the hell it's called? And second, I agreed to let him do this. So by you sneaking in and undoing it, I look bad. Really, really bad. "
He looked at me for a long minute. "I admit," he said at last, "I had not considered it in those terms. Your authority should not be undermined. Even by me. "
Especially by you, but that was a topic for another time.
"So you'll undo it?"
"I will try," he said. "And in the spirit of full revelation, I must tell you I'm not sure it will work. I've never tried to undo a mojo, as you call it. "
"What, in your whole life you've never made a mistake?"
He smiled. "No, but no one ever asked me to go back and try to rectify my errors. No one ever dared. "
"Probably why you've got such an attitude problem. "
"Probably," he agreed, and pulled me into his arms.
I wriggled around until I was straddling him. "I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten in days. "
"You've been busy," he said, and then he groaned as I found his zipper and pulled. "I must say, I didn't think I would enjoy this full disclosure rule you've implemented. . . ah. . . don't stop doing that. . . "
"Aren't you funny," I said.
"Consider it an order from your king. "
"I'm hysterical with laughter here. " I wiggled down, pulled down his pants as I went, and divested him of his socks. Frantic, I yanked at his black boxer shorts until they were little cotton shreds, took his dick in my hand, moved it out of my way, and bit him right on his femoral artery.
His hands plunged into my hair and he made fists, almost hard enough to hurt, but not quite. He was so good at that. At coming up to the line but not crossing it. I tried not to think of all the practice he must have had to get so good.
His cool, salty blood nearly overflowed my mouth, and for the first time in days, I wasn't morbidly thirsty. Instead I drank from him and felt his cock pulse in my hand, felt him give way, felt him helpless, literally helpless in my hand as he spurted all over the sheets, as he gave control to me.
I love you. Love you. Love you.
And the worst week ever was redeemed. Chapter 40
"Look, you don't even have to go to the florist, okay? I've got a book full of pictures for you to look at. "
"Darling, I trust your taste impeccably. I'm sure whatever you choose will be appropriate to the. . . lovely occasion. "
"You're lying! You think I keep my taste in my butt!"
"I am certain," Sinclair said, totally straight-faced, "that I never used that phrase. "
Tina, who had been coming into the kitchen to get God-knows-what, abruptly turned around.
"Freeze!" I shouted. "I've got a bone to pick with you, too. "
"How can I serve you, my queen?" she asked, all innocent. When she wanted, she could look like a sixteen-year-old kid.
"How about not hacking into my friend's computers and helping Sinclair eat three hundred pages? How about that?"
Tina looked over at Sinclair, who had suddenly rediscovered that the Wall Street Journal printed stock prices. No help there.
"Look, I know you're the king's man-er, so to speak-and you feel like you can't say no to him, but-"
"It's not that. "
"What?"
"Not entirely that," she amended. "If I may be frank, Majesty, I don't think his little school project was at a
ll appropriate. You do have enemies, you know. "
"Tell me about it. " I glared at the two of them, the undead Frick and Frack.
"I mean human enemies. Why make things easier for them? There is a difference between dishonesty and discretion. "
Oh, like either of those two would know. "Look, just leave my friend's stuff alone, okay? I've already talked to Sinclair about this, and he's going to undo the 'you are getting verrrrrrry sleeeeeepy' thing. "
"He is?"
"I am," Sinclair said to the paper.
"Love," Tina said, gaping. "It's truly an amazing thing to behold. "
"Shush, Tina. "
"My king. " Fighting a smile, she grabbed the mail and walked out.
"As for you. You don't even have to pick the flowers you like, okay? Just pick the ones you absolutely loathe, can't stand the sight of, and I'll be sure those aren't anywhere near you on the big day. "
"Darling," he said, turning the page, "I just don't have intensely strong feelings for flowers. "
"But you were raised on a farm! You must have some preferences. "
"Darling, I have a penis. Ergo I have no preferences. "
"When are you and your penis going to get with the program?" Jessica asked, coming in the door Tina had just left by. "Just do what she asks, and it'll all be over that much sooner. For everybody. "
"Way to make it sound fun, Jess. "
"It's not fun, Bets. Not for anyone but you. " She pulled up a chair and sat down. Eric was looking at her with some interest.
"At last," he said. "Someone says it out loud. "
"Eric, she's been planning this wedding since she was in the seventh grade. Honest to God. She used to bring Brides magazine to study hall, and she'd show me the dress, the tux, the cake, the flowers. She even had the name of your kids picked out. She still does that. "
"Hey, hey," I protested. "I haven't looked at an issue of Brides in years. A year. Six months. Look, let's get back on track, all right? Sinclair? You look okay? You're kind of pale, even for you. "
"No, no, I'm fine. " He managed a smile. He had looked sort of ghastly while Jessica was laying it out. "You realize, after this. . . wedding. . . you'll also be 'Sinclair. '"
Oh. My. God. I actually had managed to put that huge problem out of my mind. It was easy, what with the ghosts and cops and serial killers on my radar. But now, it was baaaaaack, looming in my head like a big dead flower. For a second I was totally horrified. Then I recovered. "No, I won't. I'm keeping my name. "