“Nobody knows. Just like no one can predict what you and your husband are up to at any given time. Are you going to finish that?”
I handed her my cherry Coke—yes, now that the actual service was over, they’d broken out the bar drinks. “Predict . . . what the hell are you talking about?”
Sara gestured to the room. I looked, but all I saw were hostile gazes pretty much everywhere I turned. “You’re just making them extremely nervous, that’s all.”
“What? Me? But that’s—”
“You don’t have a scent,” she interrupted gently. “So they can’t tell how you’re feeling at any given time. It makes them—all of them—extremely nervous.”
Of course! I almost slapped my forehead. I had completely forgotten how much that had weirded Antonia out when she came to live with us. It took her weeks to get used to us for that exact reason.
“Then how come you’re on this side of the room, talking to me?”
Sara shrugged. “You don’t make me nervous. You’re still our guest, despite the circumstances. And you won’t be able to hurt me.”
Back to that again. “What, are you a superstar pregnant ninja warrior or something?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
Silence.
“Well? Jeez, you can’t make comments like that and then leave me hanging.”
“But you won’t believe me anyway, so why waste my breath?”
“Try me,” I retorted.
She shrugged. “I affect the laws of probability. If someone tries to shoot me, the gun will jam. Or a pinprick aneurysm he had all his life will pick that second to blow. Or he’ll miss me and the bullet will ricochet back into his brain.”
Sara sighed. “I knew you’d say that.”
“I didn’t have a chance to say anything, you—” Poor crazy person, I’d been about to say, which wasn’t nice, under the circumstances. “So in order for you to—to—uh—”
“Affect the laws of probability.”
“Don’t you have to do tons of math all the time?”
“Oh, no. My power’s completely unconscious. I have no control over it at all. After I won the lottery for the fourth time, I sort of hung it up.” She patted her belly. “Besides, there are more important things than buying lottery tickets.”
“Yeah, I s’pose.”
“And knowing I’ll win sort of takes the fun out of it.”
“Sure, I can see that.” Looney tunes.
“Is this your son?” Sara smiled and held her arms out. BabyJon smiled back and snuggled more firmly into my shoulder.
“It’s not you,” I hastily assured the crazy pregnant woman. “He pretty much only likes me. He’s not my son, though. He’s my half brother.”
“He’s charming,” Sara said admiringly. “What beautiful eyes!”
“Thanks.” I perked up a little. “He’s really a sweet baby. He almost never cries, and he sleeps all day —”
“I would imagine, with a vampire big sister.”
“Yeah, we had to do some juggling with everybody’s schedule,” I admitted.
“But weren’t you worried about bringing him here with—with everything that’s happened?”
“I haven’t been his guardian very long. My husband and I need to get in the habit of thinking like parents, not ravenous, slavering monarchs of the undead.”
Sara cracked up, holding her belly and clutching the table so she wouldn’t fall over. I perked up even more. At least someone at this funeral didn’t blame me for Antonia’s sacrifice. I could feel the disapproving stares, but Sara just laughed and laughed.
Finally, she settled down and wiped her watering eyes. “Hormones,” she explained. “Sorry.”
“Hey, I’m not offended. It’s kind of nice to see someone—” Lightening up, I’d been about to say, which would have been seriously uncool.
“So! I’ve never met a vampire before.”
“Well, I’ve never met a sorceress before.” I was trying to remember what I knew about Morgan Le Fay, but history was so not my strong point. I thought she’d been a witch during King Arthur’s time. She was one of the bad guys, I was pretty sure. Well, I could always ask Sinclair.
“We can’t say that any longer, can we?” Sara was asking.
“Not hardly .” I glanced over her shoulder and saw Derik stomping toward us, his normally smiling countenance twisted into a scowl. “Uh-?oh. Pissed off hubby at six o’clock.”
Sara sighed. “It’s been awful for him; I’m sure you can relate. He doesn’t mean to act like you shoved Antonia into a hail of bullets. But it’s hard. You know?”
I did know. Derik was playing Pin the Blame on the Vampire as an alternative to facing up to the fact that the only reason Antonia left was because most of the Pack disliked her, or was scared of her. I understood, even though I didn’t like it one bit. Where was all this concern when she decided to leave town and never come back?
And here he was, looming over our table. “I’d like you to step away from my wife, please,” he managed through gritted teeth. “I don’t want—aaaggghhh!”
At first I thought he had slipped. Then I realized he’d seen BabyJon and jerked backward so hard, and so fast, that he lost his balance.
“That again! Get that baby away from my wife!”
You know those moments in parties where you have to talk loud to be heard, only you do it the one time everyone’s quiet? So they all hear exactly what you’re shouting?
Yeah. It was like that.
Chapter 24
Dude,
It wasn’t long before Laura had a chance to implement Operation Distract. Yes, another band of devil worshippers showed up. But this time she (we, actually) was ready for them.
“Oh most gracious and dread lady,” their leader was proclaiming, kneeling before her. His fellow lemmings followed suit, which meant there were sixteen religious extremists in one of our parlors. “We but live to serve you in any capacity you require. Only point us to your enemies and we shall wreak vengeance in your name. In your father’s name, Lucifer Morningstar.”
That was kind of interesting, because we knew Laura’s mother had been possessed by the devil. And the devil always appeared to Laura (you can imagine her mood after one of those fun-?filled visits) as a woman.
I imagine the Prince/Princess of Lies can appear as anything he/she wants.
“We are yours to command!” he shouted at Laura’s feet, since they were all cowering before her on their knees. None of them could see the way she shook her head in disgust, rolling her eyes. “Oh most dread sovereign, your coming was foretold and it has come at last!”
“Yes, yes,” she replied impatiently. “That’s fine. Now. You. All of you.”
All the heads jerked up at once. It was like watching otters pop their heads out of the water at the zoo.
“I bid ye go forth. All of you find the soup kitchen on Lake and Fourth, in Minneapolis. Volunteer for at least fifty hours a week.”
The leader’s sad basset hound face seemed to sag even further. “But—but we wish to—”
“Are you questioning me?” Laura thundered in a pretty good imitation of an angry demigod wearing a pink sweater. “You dare question how I test your loyalty?”
Practically elbowing each other out of the way, they all denied questioning anything.
