Undead and Unworthy

Chapter 48

It was a day later; Garrett had been respectfully buried. Sinclair owned several farms and lots of land; what with Alice's remains, among others, we were starting quite the little private cemetery out on Route 19. It was awful and interesting at the same time.

The police chief's body had been found in his home, dead from an apparent suicide. Many cops went on record saying he had been deeply depressed about retiring but had rejected counseling.

Deeply depressed. Yeah. They didn't know the half of it.

“I have to tell Antonia's pack leader what happened. They deserve to know what happened to her, how she died. How she – how wonderful she was. I got the impression her pack never appreciated her, didn't you guys?”

They all nodded. Sure, we knew. Her ability to tell the future (and not turn into a wolf) had given all the other werewolves the creeps. They had been happy to see her go. And when I had “fixed” her, the fact that she hadn't rushed back home meant so much to me. She chose to stick it out with me.

I'd never get the chance to thank her. As far as a recall, I don't think I ever thanked her for anything.

My chest hitched once... twice... then settled. No, I was done crying for a while.

“Anyway, I want them all to know how she saved me. Hopefully they can guide us in how to treat... what's left of her.”

Poor Antonia was in our basement freezer until I learned more about werewolf rituals for their dead. I wasn't looking forward to telling the boss werewolf that I'd gotten his pack member killed (Michael Wyndham had a wicked temper and a terrifying left cross), but it was something that had to be done.

Jessica didn't say anything, just poured herself another cup of tea. I'd told her my plan the night before in a lame attempt to distract her from breaking up with Nick. I felt tremendously guilty that she'd picked me over him. Of course, I would have felt a lot worse if she'd gone the other way.

Maybe someday they could patch things up. I'd see if I could do something about that. He'd been hurt and scared and said things he didn't mean. I had tried to explain it to Jessica last night, but had no idea if she really heard me. Maybe... in time...

But maybe it was for the best if they never got back together. It would sure cut down on the vampire attacks he had to endure... the price of admission when you hung out with the people in Monster Mansion. And I truly didn't know how much more Nick could endure. He seemed like a rubber band, stretched almost – but not quite – to the breaking point.

I shook my head, then noticed Marc was shaking his head. “I spend one Goddamn week in a hotel and then this.” He was feeling as guilty as I was; he was convinced he could have done something for Antonia if he'd been here.

“Mathematically,” Tina began gently, “given the age and abilities of our opponents, we got off rather lightly. And Garrett made his own choice. I – ”

“That's enough,” I said coldly, and Tina shut up.

“When?” my husband asked, mildly enough. “I'll need to clear my schedule.”

“Tomorrow.”

“As you wish.”

“I'll come with, if you like,” Laura offered. She'd been agog all evening, listening to our tale of the awful events of the night earlier. “It's not trouble at all.”

I was glad she had missed it (yay, church youth group!), to be honest. No telling what the body count would have been if she'd lost her temper. Or where the chief's bullets might have gone if he'd known who had really killed dear old dad. Just the thought of it gave me the willies.

In fact, it was safe to say that her temper was hanging over my head like a friggin' broadsword. Someday I was going to have to really sit down and figure out just what the deal was with the devil's daughter.

But not today. Not even this month. I was just so fucking tired.

“I'd be glad to come,” my sister was continuing, eager to help. “I've got a Toys for Tots meeting, but it's no problem to postpone – ”

“No, I need you to stay here and hold down the fort. And Tina – Richard, Stephanie, and Jane need looking after. Move them here while we're out of town, if that helps. Or you can move out to the McMansion until we get back. It's just temporary, until we can figure out something more permanent.”

Tina nodded and jotted a note to herself on the notepad she always kept nearby. “As you wish, Majesty.”

“I'll keep BabyJon for you,” Laura volunteered.

I smiled at my sister and shook my head, then turned to my husband. “Actually, I'd like to bring him to the Cape with us, if you don't mind. I've been spending too much time fobbing him off on other people, which is no good. I'm the only mother he's got now.”

Sinclair tried to hide the wince (not a baby guy, my husband), but nodded. “As you like, Elizabeth. I do agree, we should probably get used to the idea of being” – he didn't quite gag on the word – 'parents'.

“A fine thing, my son being brought up by vampires,” the Ant said.

“I suppose you're coming, too.”

“Of course,” my dead stepmother said, amused.

“That reminds me,” I told my puzzled friends. “I figured it out. Why the Ant's here.”

“To find a cure for bad dye jobs?” Jessica joked.

“Not hardly. See, she lived for making me miserable, she got off on setting my dad against his only kid, she loved irritating me in a thousand small ways.”

“You make it sound as if that was my only purpose in life,” the Ant sniffed.

“It was.”

“What was?” Jessica asked.

I kept forgetting no one could hear her or see her but me. Lucky, lucky me. “Never mind. Point is, she's not done yet,” I finished. “Not near done. So she's not going anywhere. She can't.”

“Believe me, I've tried,” she said sourly.

“So we're stuck with her indefinitely.”

“That's right!” the Ant said triumphantly. “No more Mrs. Nice Guy!”

Exactly. Things were going to be very, very different from now on.

But the Ant didn't know me. Not the new me, the me that forced Fiends to their knees and broke necks and cured cancer. She was going to have her hands full.

For that matter, anyone who got in my way, who hurt my friends, who tried to stop me from making the world better, was going to have their hands full.

They didn't know this queen. Not like I did.