Undead and Unwelcome

Chapter 35

Dude, dude, dude.

I’ve been all over the mansion. Every room, every closet, every inch of the basement and the attic. The garage. The grounds.

I can’t find Tina anywhere.

I don’t know what to do.

I can’t call the cops, for any number of obvious reasons. “Well, Officer, the devil’s daughter has lost her mind, and is killing people who are already dead. She’s doing it to keep her sister, the queen of the vampires, safe. Oh, her sister isn’t here, she’s on Cape Cod explaining to a bunch of werewolves why one of their own was shot to death in this very house. Sorry, we never got around to filing a police report. So could you get right on this, please?”

I can’t call Betsy or Sinclair or Jess . . . no cell service.

Worse, I snuck out to buy one of those disposable phone cards, only to be intercepted by three— three—devil worshippers, who escorted me politely but firmly back to the mansion.

I hadn’t realized she was spying on me. And dude, let me tell you—she’s got people everywhere. She’s even got one at Verizon—that’s the one who was making sure our cells went down and stayed down.

Talking to Laura does no good at all. She just keeps giving me that big sweet smile and assuring me that everything she’d doing is for Betsy’s own good and really, maybe I should get more sleep because I seem awfully grumpy these days.

I can’t call for help—Sinclair left the contact information with Tina.

And nobody’s answering my e-​mails.

Short of hopping on a plane bound for Logan, renting a car, driving to the Cape, and hoping I stumble across Betsy, Sinclair, and/or a werewolf, I’m out of ideas.

I even thought about nailing Laura with a trank, except I’m pretty sure one or more of her Satan-​worshipping followers would slaughter me like a goat.

As if things weren’t bad enough, my admittedly bizarre home situation is starting to affect my work performance . . . I tried to admit a five-​year-​old to the geriatric ward last night. And don’t even get me started on the poor woman who asked for the morning-​after pill . . . I gave her a Tums.

I cannot believe things have gotten so bad, so quickly.

I’m out of ideas.