Undead and Unwelcome

Chapter 29

Dude,

It’s really hard to write this. I’m embarrassed and mad at myself. But I’d better get it off my chest, so listen up.

I can pinpoint the exact moment I realized the shit was hitting the fan. It was the next morning, long after Tina had retired for the day. I was minding my own business, wolfing down a bowl of Special K and reading the latest John Sandford novel, when Laura bopped in.

She seemed more cheerful than usual, which was nice, because she’d been awfully stressed since Betsy and Sinclair left. And she looked even prettier than usual—and Laura was a beautiful girl—with her buttercup yellow sweater and faded jeans, her blond hair pulled back in its perpetual pony-​tail, big eyes bright and sparkling.

“Morning!” she chirped, sitting across from me. “Did I get any calls?”

“Uh, no. Are you expecting one?”

“Sure. I had this great idea and I have you to thank for it. I’ll hopefully find out today if it worked.”

Dude, I should have followed up right then. But I didn’t. I figured she was involved with some church thing, or was working on a project for school. I’m an ER resident, not a shrink. How was I supposed to know she’d lost her mind?

Yeah, I know. It’s all just a bunch of crap justification now. I should have been paying closer attention, and I wasn’t. That’s the long and short of it.

“It’s going to solve a lot of problems,” Laura continued, and I admit I was barely listening to her. “I’ve just been so worried about Betsy ever since she almost died (again) when Antonia got shot.”

“Betsy’s always almost dying again.” I was a little more sanguine about the vampire queen’s resilience; I had seen many, many strange things since Betsy stopped me from killing myself a couple years back. “She’s like our own personal Kenny.”

“Kenny?”

“From South Park . Pop culture reference; sorry.” Laura tended to stick to network news and the Food Network. A single episode of South Park would horrify and disgust her. Sometimes the show horrified me, too, but I was still addicted to it. Nobody’s perfect.

“Where’s Tina?”

“Conked out in her room—you know how it is with her. She won’t be going anywhere until the sun’s down.”

“I have something for her,” Laura said vaguely. “And some people want to see her.”

“Great.” I yawned. New vampires were always stopping by the mansion to pay their respects. “Thank God it’s my day off. I need a break from sick people.”

Laura giggled. “That’s an odd thing for a doctor to say.”

“Honey, all doctors say it. Just not around patients.”

“I’m sure that’s—”

The phone rang and Laura leaped to her feet, practically sprinting to get it before it rang again. I rolled my eyes; probably some church wanted her to run a fund-​raiser or some such thing. Or maybe PBS was running another pledge drive.

“Yes? Hello?” She paused, listening. “Okay, great! That’s just great . . . uh-​huh . . . really? Oh, you didn’t!” She laughed, then paused again. “Uh-​huh . . . you are? Terrific. Then I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks very much.” She hung up.

“Good news?” I yawned.

“The best news. Okay, well, I’ve got to go. See you.”

“Bye,” I said vaguely, and I was back into my book before she got to the front door.

So, so careless. Not to mention stupid. It’s all fine and good to say now “How was I supposed to know?” except I had seen the effect the devil worshippers had on Laura. I should have been suspicious of her 180, instead of focusing on my own problems.

But I wasn’t.

And, though I didn’t know it, it was already too late.