Undead and Unwelcome

Chapter 48

I had just enough time to grab Marc by the collar, ignore his surprised squawk, and bundle him into the closest closet. The poor guy looked ghastly—pale, with dark circles under his eyes and at least three days of stubble. Clearly he’d been under stress during our little sojourn to the Cape. And no wonder, with the devil’s daughter cracking up right under his nose.

As usual, things were happening so quickly I was having trouble keeping up. Even as a bunch of jerks in hoods rushed me, Sinclair was there, knocking and shoving and punching them out of the way.

Which left me free to—

“Laura!”

Her big blue eyes, wide, got even wider as I hit her around the thighs in a low tackle. I knocked her backward a good four feet, and she slammed, back first, into the far wall of the parlor.

“Betsy, have you lost your mind?” Crazy Lady had the nerve to ask. “Get off !”

“What’d you do with Tina, nut job?”

“Oh, I like that! After everything I’ve done for you, you can’t even show me simple gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” I almost gagged on the word. “Thank you for going crazy? For killing our subjects and maybe even our friend? I’d like to put your fucking head through a wall.”

“Like this?” she asked brightly and, cat-​quick, she wriggled free of me, seized a yank of my hair, and drove me face first into the wall.

My face blew up. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. My nose was already dripping, and I was pretty sure there was a piece of wallpaper in one of my eyes.

Will you get it together? You’re undead; she’s not. You’re stronger and faster; she’s not .

As I reminded myself of essential facts of nature, Laura picked me up like a wolf with a cub and heaved me so hard I crashed through the wall and spilled into the next room.

I shook splinters out of my hair, wiped the blood from my face, and reassessed the situation. Clearly, Laura had been keeping secrets. Or had never come up with a tactful way to explain she had superhuman strength.

Which was my own fucking fault. She was the Antichrist, after all.

I’d even seen the breakdown coming. I’d just kept conveniently shoving it out of my mind. It seemed like there was always something more important claiming my attention: killing the old vampire king, my wedding, catching serial killers, my wedding, catching a crooked cop, my wedding . . . and now I was paying the price.

Worse, I wasn’t paying it alone.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” Laura said reproachfully, standing and brushing bits of wall off her sweater. “Clearly the undead have been a terrible influence on you.”

“And clearly your mother’s been one on you.”

As soon as it was out, I wished I could take it back. Because right in front of my eyes, Laura’s mouth went thin and hard, and her hair turned red.

Never a good sign.