him. I couldn't blame him – he'd been relaxing at home, getting ready for a date with Jessica, with no way of knowing his boss, the chief of police, had fed him to the wolves – almost literally.
Jessica was waiting for us in the living room, which looked like a bomb had detonated from beneath the carpet. He might not have had his gun, but he'd put up a helluva fight. It made me remember why I'd liked him a couple of years ago.
“Ballsy bastard,” was Antonia's comment.
FALSE QUEEN was written on the biggest wall, the one without any windows. Sinclair leaned close, sniffed, then reported quietly, “Detective Berry's blood.”
“But not so much that he's dead, right?” Jessica begged. “Not enough to kill him, right?”
Sinclair put an arm around my trembling friend. “No, dear one. Not nearly enough.”
“She cannot go,” Tina said firmly.
“Indeed, no.”
“What are you two talking about?” I tried to keep my voice low and authoritative, when it wanted to go high and squeaky.
Tina shook her head, but Sinclair came right out with it. “This is an ancient challenge among vampires – ”
“So how do Fiends who have been out of it for six decades know anything about it?” I asked, trying not to sound hysterical.
“It's important to keep in mind they are remembering more and more every day – and in fact may have lied to us about what they do remember, at any rate.” Sinclair glanced at the bloody letters again. “Regardless of how they know, they know. Such a step is usually taken to settle a grudge or, occasionally, determine ability to rule. This message means that if you value your crown, you will rescue Nick and defeat the Fiends.”
“But how would I even know where to – ”
“He'll be where it began for them,” Garrett said quietly. I jumped; he hadn't said a word since we'd left the mansion.
“Nostro's house,” Tina added.
“Well, then, I'm outta here!”
Cue huge squabble fest. Not even Jessica was sure I should go, and, needless to say, Tina and Sinclair weren't keen on the idea at all. Antonia was practically foaming at the mouth to come with me; she'd had a taste of Fiend already and didn't mind getting wet. I had a momentary flash – thank goodness Laura had her youth group tonight; she'd just be one more person trying to stop me.
Don't get me wrong, I sure as shit didn't want to go. I predicted a messy death and Nick's curses being the last thing I ever heard in this life. But, like it (I didn't) or not, I was the queen. Did I think a hideous mistake had been made somewhere along the way? You bet. Was I going to welsh out of my obligation? Never in life. (Or death, I s'pose.)
The rules were, I go alone. So, I go alone. Besides, the Fiends would spot the others, and then they'd play kickball with Nick's head. How could I face my best friend if I got her lover killed 'cause I was too chickenshit to show up alone?
“ – absolutely out of the question – ”
“ – but she's the only one who – ”
“ – can't leave Nick to – ”
“ – not open for discussion, as far as I am concerned – ”
“ – her responsibility – ”
“ – not going to let her essentially commit suicide – ”
The argument was escalating in both intensity and volume (I noticed no one was much interested in my opinion), and there was no time, Goddammit, no time at all.
“Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up! We have no time, don't you get it? Now I'm going.”
“Not at all,” Sinclair said calmly.
“Tradition dictates she do exactly that,” Tina said reluctantly, correcting her sovereign for maybe the fourth time in eighty years – a real toughie for her, since she wasn't too keen on me going in the first place.
“They'll kill you!” Jessica cried.
“Yes,” Garrett said. “They will.”
“The fuck they will! They can't take the king and queen and a fellow Fiend and me. We'll eat 'em for dinner! Let's go! Right now!” And I noticed an odd thing; all the fine hairs on Antonia's arms were standing straight up. If she'd been in her wolf form, she'd be bristling all over.
“We had practically the same group the first time the Fiends came, and we ran away,” Jessica said. “What's changed?”
“A challenge written in your lover's blood,” Sinclair said, kindly enough.
“Come on, you chickenshits!” Antonia barked. “We can take those fuckers.”
“Maybe. And then Nick will be fish food,” Tina said, biting her lip.
“My alpha's not going alone, and that's how it is!”
“Shut up, Antonia, all of you shut up! Just – shut up!” My head was pounding, like it was going to split down the middle of my forehead; I was clutching my temples and wondering why it was so damned hot in here. It seemed like the heat was battering at me, trying to get in, and all at once I dropped my hands and let it, let it all in, let it burn me alive.
Instantly, the room went quiet, a quiet broken by the thuds of my friend's bodies hitting the floor. I stood over them, shocked. Knelt quickly and found Jessica's pulse, realized Tina and Sinclair were as alive as they could be, just unconscious. Antonia, too, was out cold – and so was Garrett. I was the only one still standing.
And I felt like a million bucks. I felt like I could jump across the Mississippi. And I loved the sudden peace and quiet – I could finally hear myself think. I felt almost – what was the word? Euphoric. Yeah. I felt – I felt an awful lot like the way I'd felt when I'd sucked Marjorie dry, only not so frenzied and out of control.
I'd done it again! The chill in my bones subsided as I realized I had not killed anyone this time. In fact, they were safe and sleeping and, did I mention, safe? How did that work? Was it something I could control? If I didn't, what did?
I had no more time to think about it. If any of my friends woke up while I was still here, the trick I'd pulled (can I call it a “trick”?) would have been for nothing. Knowing exactly where I had to go, I got the hell out of there, casting a last guilty look at my unconscious husband.
No sex tonight, that was for sure.
Chapter 40
After borrowing (okay, stealing) Sinclair's Lexus SUV, I made the trip in less than half an hour. Nostro's old digs were a combination of farm and what Jessica called a McMansion. Most of the houses in the neighborhood, while in the low seven-?figure range, still looked a lot alike. They came with your standard pool, your standard half-?acre backyard, your standard ballroom.
For an extra five figures, you could get either a gazebo, or a chicken coop. “Wholesome country living with the convenience of city living,” that's what the brochure said. I knew, because my dad and the Ant had lived in one. It had been left to BabyJon, along with all their dough and the condo in Florida; some lawyer I'd only met once was keeping everything in a trust for him.
The McMansion was brown, with cream-?colored fake shutters (what exactly was the point of shutters that didn't open or close, anyway?) and a big, crimson-?colored front door. The walkway and patio were brick; the grass was starting to get a little shaggy. There was a tall hedge that went around the side of the house that I could see, and a few baby trees in the front yard. In a hundred years they'd be gorgeous elms. It was weird to think that I might be around to actually see that.
I brazenly parked on the front lawn (yeah, that's right, the queen of the vampires is here!), giving thanks that the nearest neighbor was on the other side of the lake.
I walked up the sidewalk and knocked on Nostro's front door, remembering the last time I'd been dragged
