I said nothing.
“But you stood up to our Pack and fought. So we're more inclined to listen to you now.”
“Yawn,” I said, since actual yawning probably wouldn't have shut them up. “So like I was saying, Antonia comes, she goes, she conquers, she bitches, she moans, she eats all the raw hamburger out of the fridge. That's what she does, that's all she does, and we sure don't get into discussions about you guys—she's made mondo-? clear that Pack business isn't any of our business.” Drives my fiance crazy, I thought but didn't say. he's a ship passing in the night. She and Garrett take all the time. I'm not her damned keeper. I'm her—' Uh. Friend? Ally? Thorn? Fellow bitch? Yeah, that one sounded right.. .
“Point,” Derik repeated, still smiling at me. “Man, you are cute. If I wasn't married—”
“To a sorceress who'd turn her husband inside out if she saw him right now,” Jeannie piped up. “I knew we should have brought her.”
“She's eight months pregnant, for God's sake!” “Still, we could have used her to fight a single vampire. This one is powerful. We could have lost someone.”
I barely stopped myself from saying something stupid like, “A single vampire? Try the Queen of the vampires, you furry nitwits!” But it was a near thing. How was it that I was constantly either denying queen-?hood or embracing it?
“Can we focus, please?” I demanded, as much of myself as of them. “From what I'm gathering, Antonia missed checking in with you guys. So what?”
“So, we'd better sit down, don't you think? I sounds like we've got some catching up to do.”
I nearly wept. 'You're not going to leave, are you?
“Not without Antonia,” the kid piped up. She had a look on her face that was absolutely identical to the look on the gun-?toting blonde's. If it hadn't been so weird, it would have been funny. “You didn't take her, I guess. Right?”
“Take her? Shit, I didn't even ask her to move in. She just did. Story of my life,” I added in a mumble.
“Then we'd better talk,” Michael said. “It seems we have a mutual problem.”
“Can't we talk with you guys on the other side of the door? Or the state?”
None of them answered me. Hell. Worth a shot.
“Why'd you shoot me, anyway?” I asked the blonde.
“Because you were winning,” she answered cheerfully.
“Swell. Last chance to leave.”
They didn't move.
I thought about it, and they watched me think about it. Except for Derik and Jeannie, they all looked way too uneasy, shifting their weight and fidgeting like kids. From punching to looking freaked out in. . . what? Ten minutes? What was up with these weirdos?
“I thought you guys didn't believe in vampires,” I said in a lame attempt to stall for time. At least, Antonia had said as much, way back when she'd first moved in.
“Recent events have changed our minds,” the brunette—Cain—said dryly. And what kind of a name was Cain for a five-?foot-?nothing, buzz-?cut brunette with a sharp fox-?like face and smoothly muscled arms?
Then badass buzz-?cut looked down and actually fidgeted like a little kid who needed to pee. What the hell? There were more of them than me, even if I (sort of) won the fight. Or did I? Anyway, I was outnumbered and outgunned (all my shotguns were in the gun safe in the basement). So what was their problem?
I remembered something Antonia had once said— that vampires had no scent. It took her a long time to get used to Sinclair, Tina, and me being able to sneak up on her. Obviously, my lack of scent was giving the werewolves the heebies. Ha, ha, ha !
I badly wanted to give the slaphappy bunch the heave-?ho, but couldn't. For one thing, I was cur ion to hear what they were about.
For another, I was too damned lonely to send them away.
For another, Antonia and Garrett had gone missing, These guys might have some light to shed.
“Kitchen's that way,” I said, pointing. “Anybody want a smoothie?”
Chapter 16
I darted up the stairs, praying the werewolves wouldn't get into trouble while unsupervised, checked on Babyjon (still snoring away), then ran back down and led the werewolves and Jeannie into the kitchen just in time to grab the phone as it rang.
“S'up?”
“Betsy? It's Laura. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Not now,” I said, and hung up. I felt bad, but not too bad. She'd been one of the bums to disappear on me in a time of need, after all. And that was weirdly convenient, wasn't it? That Antonia and Garrett and Marc and Sinclair should all disappear right around the time my dad died and my half sister made herself scarce?
Naw. Crazy. But. . . weird,
Naw.
Weird.
Naw! Dammit, naw!
Great. Lonely, and now paranoid. Oh, and surrounded by werewolves. Let's not forget that!
“Let's see,” I said, peering into the fridge. “We’ve got strawberries, bananas, and peaches. Also ice, for smoothies. Oh, and Antonia's left half a raw T-?bone.” I sniffed. “Smells fine. Prob'ly good for another day or two.”
“We'll pass on the fruit.”
“I could also,” I added doubtfully, “defrost some hamburger for you guys.”
“We're fine. Let's get down to business.”
“I'm not fine. I'm thirsty as hell.” I gave them all a big, toothy grin, enjoying the mutual flinch. “So it's smoothie time.”
“I'd like a smoothie,” Lara piped up. “Banana, please.”
“Coming right up.” Now it was my turn to flinch; how many times had I heard that phrase from Marc in this very kitchen as he played bartender? How many strawberry smoothies had I fixed for Sinclair? How many times had he brought me upstairs and poured said smoothie all over my—
“Banana, please!” she repeated.
I shook myself. “Sorry. Drifted off for a moment. Peel these, will you?” I said, handing Lara some bananas.
Michael cleared his throat, while his kid (cub? puppy? whelp?) stripped three bananas and tossed the skins into the sink. 'So, ah. Antonia didn't check in. And she checks in at 10:00 a.m. EST on the twentieth of the month. So when she didn't, you can imagine our—
The rest was drowned out as I hit “puree.” I left it on for a nice long time, ignoring the way it felt like a thunderstorm in my head (stupid advanced vampire hearing). It was worth it just to drown out the arrogant, gorgeous asshat.
Wait. Did I say gorgeous? Sinclair, where the hell did you go?
Via gestures, I directed Lara to the glasses, and she brought me two. She really was the cutest thing, and I smiled at her, then dropped the grin when she didn’t smile back. This was a kid older than her years, that was for damned sure. What had she said? That she was the future Pack leader? That was a lot to pile onto a—what? Seven-?year-?old? Eight?
A perfect miniature amalgam of her mom and her dad: his eyes, her face, their attitudes. She'd be scary as shit when she hit adolescence. Or possibly the fourth grade.
I shut off the blender, filled Lara's glass to the brim, then heard Michael droning, “—natural for us to jump to the conclusion that nefarious creatures of the night had—”
And on goes the blender again. I took my time win my own smoothie, but eventually I couldn't liquefy the fruit and ice any more and had to shut it off.
