Authors: MaryJanice Davidson
"Put that thing down," I said impatiently. "I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca." She dropped his head and I yanked her to her feet and gave her a hearty smack on the mouth. "That's for that whole 'nick of time thing' you seem to have going on." I kissed her again. "And that's for cutting off the bad guy's head."
Mwah
! "And that's for being so cute."
Mwah
! "And that's for not being dead."
"Sure," she said, fending me off with an elbow. "You're all affectionate
now
, when there's no time. Let's go."
"Where's Sinclair?"
"We split up to find you. Since that honor was mine, I imagine he ran across Nostro instead. Now I have to show you to your people."
"My—” She’d tossed me a sword, then grabbed my arm and was pulling me along so fast I stumbled to keep up. "My people?" I glanced back, more than happy to be leaving the cheerless little room I'd worried I'd die in. Donald's headless body was twitching all over, then shuddered and went still. It didn't turn into dust and whirl away, just lay there like a puppet with its strings cut. And its head missing.
"The only reason I got back here in time to help you was because I told Nostro's people you were the foretold queen."
"Yeah, but how'd you avoid being barbecued?"
"The underground tunnel, of course," she said with bare impatience. She was still hauling me along like a sack of feed. "Donald left too quickly with you—a rather large error of judgment which I'm happy to say cost him his head. Eric and I got out and came straight here. I was prepared to fight my way in, but instead told everyone I ran across that I was there for their salvation and our queen. And, for a wonder, no one tried to stop me. That tells me they might be ready. If I show you to them, they may yet turn on him."
"Think so?"
"No," she said grimly, hauling me up a flight of stairs, "they're too frightened. To stop me, but also to help me. Though I've noticed that when we put you into the equation, interesting things happen. So we'll try. And if I see Nostro I'm going to have his balls for breakfast."
"Thanks for the visual. That's so weird, the way you'll be explaining things all proper and stuff, then talk about balls for--"
"There!" She pointed; there was one hell of a brawl going on in the ballroom. At least thirty people were fighting and kicking and punching and clawing at each other. Nostro and Sinclair were probably in the middle of it.
Tina dropped my hand and waded in. I turned and ran. Past the ballroom, past the swimming pool, all the way outside. I knew what I wanted—now how to find it?
A teeny, red-haired vamp scuttled around the corner right into me, clearly having no interest in joining the fight. When I seized her arm, she squeaked and shrank away from me.
"Where are the Fiends?"
"Please—don't—don't hurt me--"
"The Fiends, twit! Where does your boss keep them? I know they're locked up around here somewhere."
She blinked up at me and when I got a good look at her I felt sick. She couldn't have been more than fourteen when she died. She weighed, at rough guess, about eighty pounds. Scrawny as hell and with the biggest brown eyes I'd seen outside of a pet shop. A teenager forever. Perpetually in the throes of adolescence...I couldn't think of a worse fate. Sinclair was a pig, but he wasn't killing teenage girls. If I hadn't already made up my made to fight Nostro until he was in little pieces on the ground, I would have done it in that instant.
"Their cage is behind the barn," she said in a small voice. "I can show you just pleasedonthurtme."
"Relax, cutie. This is shaping up to be your lucky day. You'd better stick with me. It's dangerous in there."
"Oh, dangerous? Tell me! I thought the Korean War was bad. I'm--I'm Alice, by the way." She relaxed a little as she realized I wasn't going to use my sword to cut off her head. I might be a vamp queen, but I wasn't about to turn into the Red Queen from
Alice in Wonderland
. No 'Off with her head!' for
this
dead monarch. I'd leave that stuff to Tina.
"I'm the Queen, Alice." Korean War, let's see, that made her—forty? Fifty? I'd never get used to this. "Nice to meet you."
The Fiends sent up an ungodly racket when they saw me. I groped and was relieved to find Donald hadn't relieved me of my cross...probably he hadn't been able to touch it, or had forgotten about it. Anyway, I flashed the Fiends and they went into their abject cringing routine. Then I took a deep breath, smashed the locks on their cage with a few punches, and stepped inside.
"Uh...your—uh--your queenness...I wouldn't..."
"It's okay. I think I've got their number." I held out my torn, bleeding wrists. I could still bleed from a pulse point, it seemed, just not as well as when I was alive, and not as hot. The Fiends crawled toward me, sniffed me up and down, then lapped from my wrists. Their breath was cold. Their smell was indescribably bad. "What are these things?"
"They're vampires who weren't allowed to feed when they rose." Alice was clutching the bars and watching us with big scared eyes. "They become animals when that happens...they lose their sense of self. All they know is hunger."
"Is it fixable?"
Long pause. "I...don't know. No one has ever been able to—I mean, my lord Nostro wouldn't—"
"Say no more. Alice, are you with me or against me?"
"...I? I think—I think I'm with you." She stared at me through the bars, then lowered her gaze to my cross, which was still giving off its brave little light. It reminded me of the Snoopy nightlight I'd had as a kid. She looked away, then looked back, as if drawn. "You're so brave and...and strong. And you seem like you would be—if the book of the dead is right—and it must be right, for how can you--"
"Today, Alice, could you answer my question today? I still have to save my new friends, kill Nostro, and get home in time to set the VCR to tape Martha Stewart."
"I'm your servant," she said softly. She squeezed the bars so hard I heard metal groan. "Forever and ever."
"Swell." Would I ever get used to people instantly throwing me their allegiance? Lord, I hoped not. "Here's the plan."
CHAPTER TWENTY
With Alice and the Fiends hot on my heels, we charged back up to the house and ran into the ballroom. Nostro and Sinclair were going at it so fast, I couldn't see a thing. Just blurs of fists. For a wonder, no one else was fighting; most of the others were up against the far wall listening to Tina.
"—not interfere! Whoever wins this will be our new lord and you
cannot
interfere! That was our law when mortals were still cringing in caves!"
"
I'm
going to interfere," I said hotly. I pointed to the blur that was Nostro and Sinclair. "Sic him!"
Yowling and snarling, the Fiends rushed forward. So did I—in time to grab Sinclair and pull him out of the way. As quick as I was, a Fiend still knocked us sprawling. I rolled over on my back to watch.
You know in cartoons when, to denote a vicious fight all you can see is smoke and whirling limbs and stars and stuff? That's what it was like. The Fiends were snarling, Nostro was screaming, and we were all staring. Then the Fiends started making wet noises, Nostro was gurgling, and then the wet noises continued. But Nostro wasn't making any more noise.
So long, Noseo. You shouldn't have messed with me, and you sure as shit shouldn't have messed with my friends.
Nobody said anything. Forty vampires were staring at me, and the triumph on Tina's face was almost too much to bear. Her face was like a beacon, beautiful and terrible at once. She didn't look like a preppy cheerleader just then, but like a warrior claiming victory. I turned to Sinclair, sure one of his coolly sarcastic remarks would break the tension, and then I screamed and scrambled to my feet.
Sinclair was horribly burned. Most of his left side was a blackened mess. All his hair was gone. His eyelids were gone. I could see the veins in the skin of his left arm as they tried to sluggishly move blood through his dead system.
Incredibly, he was
smiling
. His cracked lips pulled back and his teeth looked even whiter and longer against his burned flesh. "Victory."
I burst into tears. Sure, victory, but at what cost? And what happened next? He was burned because of me, he'd lost his home—and most of his flesh!--because of me. And instead of recovering or feeding to get better or staying the hell out of the fight, he'd come running to my rescue!
"Sinclair—Eric—what—"
"He needs to feed," Tina said as Sinclair put a hand out and steadied himself by clutching her arm. "From you. Your blood will heal him quicker than anything else."
"It's a queen thing?"
She nodded, but she wasn't looking at me. Her eyes were big and sad as she stared at Eric. "Water will help—it's—it takes too long to explain, but water facilitates the healing process. Then—"
"Right, right, you can explain later." I gingerly grabbed Eric's right hand and pulled him toward the pool. "Here, come here, Eric. It'll feel better...Christ, you must be in agony..."
"The lengths I must go to so you'll call me by my first name."
I made a sound, a cross between a laugh and a sob. "This is no time for your nasty sarcasm."
"Actually, I can't think of a better time for nasty sarcasm. You must tell me how you turned the Fiends' loyalty from Nostro. Such a thing has never been done before."
"You're always so nosy."
"You're always so intriguing."
I led him to the pool room. "Take a breath," I said, standing so close to the edge my toes dangled over the edge.
"Why?" Sinclair asked, reasonably enough. Then we plunged into the deep end.
I had time to think,
oh, shit, the chlorine's going to sting him like hell
, but from the look of relief on his face, that wasn't the case at all.
He pulled me to him gently and I went willingly enough. He was a blackened husk because of me; the least I could do was let him regain strength from my blood. I only hoped I had enough to do him any good. Was drinking from a vampire—from me?--so very different from drinking from someone who was still alive? Tina seemed to think so, and that was good enough for me.
I shivered as his teeth broke the flesh of my throat. I was losing my vamp virginity to Sinclair—although I'd taken my share of willing donors, I'd never been the
donatee,
so to speak. The water was deliciously cool as we floated near the bottom of the deep end. It was odd and delightful to be completely comfortable under water and not have to worry about coming up for air.
I had my hands on his shoulders and, while he drank from me, I could feel the skin on his back knitting together, re-forming from nothing, could feel him regaining strength and vitality. He stroked my back as he fed, which was lovely—soothing and sweet and comfortable.
Being
lunch felt as good as
drinking
lunch. This was the pleasure of being taken, of being held by a creature much larger and stronger, a creature who could break you if he chose. It was the pure pleasure of surrender.
Eric pulled back and smiled with a look of pure uncomplicated happiness. His face healed itself while I watched in shocked amazement. So fast, it was happening so fast! Then he was whole, perfect—a completely gorgeous male specimen. With really big canines. It had taken less than five minutes.
I laughed underwater and nearly choked. He pulled me to him again, not nearly so gently this time, and then his mouth was covering mine, his tongue was rubbing against mine, and his arms were around me, pressing me against him.
We kissed for an hour...or so it felt. He pulled me free of my rags and I helped him out of the burned tatters he'd barely been wearing. When I touched his throbbing, firm length I was glad I was floating and not standing—I doubt I'd have been able to keep my feet. He was huge and beautiful and I wanted every inch inside me. I was tired of fighting my attraction to him, tired of pretending I didn't feel it in my stomach every time he smiled. Love? I didn't know. I'd never known anyone like Eric Sinclair, who thought I was a hopeless twit but had fought for me, lost everything for me, and secured a throne for me.