Undead and Unwelcome (Undead #8)

Undead and Unwelcome (Undead #8) Page 19

Chapter 41

Ah, there's my boy."

Jessica and I stared at each other, then Sinclair. It was almost two o'clock in the morning; the place was crawling with werewolves. I was a little curious and was interested in going outside, but Jessica was understandably nervous and had practically barricaded herself in the downstairs library.

And what a library! I swear, it was at least half the size of the New York City Public Library. Towering bookshelves, mahogany furniture, a row of computers . . . the only thing it was missing was a pair of stone lions.

Maybe it seemed larger because it had been empty except for Jessica, me, and the baby. In fact, the mansion was practically deserted. But occasionally we could hear faint wolf howls from outside.

And now here was Sinclair bustling in and actually holding his arms out for BabyJon, formerly his number one rival for my affection.

"Your boy?" I asked, and Jessica raised her eyebrows.

"You know," Sinclair said, hovering over the baby and me, "it's not too soon to start planning his education."

"He can't even walk yet," Jessica pointed out.

"Oh, I get it. BabyJon is invulnerable to paranormal harm, so suddenly you're taking interest in his well-being."

"Elizabeth, you've got me all wrong." Sinclair had the nerve to look and sound wounded. "As your husband, and his co-guardian, it's my responsibility to do right by this boy."

"Sure it is." I handed BabyJon over and Sinclair was so startled he juggled the baby for a few seconds before holding him at arm's length. "Okay, co-guardian. He needs changing."

"Ah . . ."

"Don't even try to wiggle out of it," I warned. "I've been dying to get out of here and walk around. Think you two can handle the kid for half an hour?"

"One of us can," Jessica said with a sly wink.

"Something smells awful," Sinclair moaned, and I practically sprinted out of the library before he could hear me laughing.

Chapter 42

It was a beautiful night-cool, with clear skies. The moon seemed to almost hang over Wyndham Manor, huge and white. There wasn't a cloud anywhere, and the stars seemed brighter and closer than they ever had been.

I started walking on the same path Lara and I had taken to the playground . . . Thanks to my vampire senses I could hear wolves running and walking and fucking all over the place. Two of them crossed my path, clearly playing Chase Me, but they moved so quickly I only got a blurred glimpse of tan fur and lots of teeth.

I must be out of my mind.

Well, that was always a possibility. But for once I wanted to take advantage of the fact that I, too, was fast and strong. I suppose if a few hundred of them ganged up on me I could be in serious trouble, but Jeannie had told me that werewolves didn't go feral during the full moon. They retained their human personalities, they just felt things more keenly. Sadness became depression; anger became fury; happiness became ecstasy. But no matter how deeply they felt something, innocent bystanders didn't get eaten.

Not that I was exactly innocent, but I think you know what I'm getting at. And it made sense-they had been coexisting with humans for millennia. People were bound to notice if gobs of mutilated corpses were found after each full moon.

I rounded the curve just in time to see the largest wolf I'd ever seen step out of the woods and block my path. Huge, with extremely light fur-almost white-and the biggest green eyes I'd ever seen. It was powerfully muscled and sat in the middle of the road, staring at me like a living statue.

"Uh, hello."

Nothing. Of course-what had I expected?

"I, uh, come in peace."

Then I realized where I'd seen those eyes before-Derik.

Great. A werewolf who was pissed at me for getting his friend killed was now blocking my path. Ah, what a week!

I was suddenly so thirsty I could hardly stand it, but realized that was the vampire equivalent of adrenaline. The fight or flight reflex. The last thing I planned to do was bite him. It would be a novel way to be disemboweled.

"Good dog," I said, wishing I had a Milk-Bone. Or a case of them. "Uh-I wish Antonia was here with you right now. She was really happy when she was finally able to change."

Derik cocked his head, never blinking, and then-ulp-started walking toward me. Good-bye, cruel world.

He stopped at my feet and looked straight up at me. His head was bigger than a bowling ball. His paws were larger than my hand, even with all my fingers spread wide.

Is he gonna kill me?

Yup. He probably is.

Except he wasn't. He was just sitting there, staring up at me.

And all at once I stopped being nervous for myself and put myself in his shoes. Paws. His friend had died half a continent away, and he couldn't save her. Any more than I had been able to save her.

I knelt on the path. We were so close, our eyes were no more than eight inches apart.

"I am so sorry about Antonia," I said. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her. But you go on and stay mad at me, Derik. It's my fault she's dead. If I had it to do over, I'd have taken the bullets myself."

Derik threw back his head and howled-shrieked-at the moon. I thought my head was going to split. I thought my heart was going to split.

When I couldn't stand it another second, I flung my arms around his thick, furry neck. And did the thing I swore I wouldn't do again this week.

I cried and cried.

More wolves were padding out of the trees on either side of the road, one with Michael's black fur and distinctive golden eyes. They formed a ring around us, and the air was split again and again by the silvery, haunting howls.

Chapter 43

I got back to our suite just before dawn. As I passed through the rooms, I checked on BabyJon-sound asleep. Thank God he hadn't been hurt-could never be hurt, at least by werewolves and vampires. He was mine. I wanted him to live forever.

Sinclair, with his usual brand of magic-or perhaps because he knew me so well-was waiting for me. I went to him without a word and hid my face against his shirt.

"Elizabeth, my own, my dear, shhhhh."

"It's all going wrong," I cried, "and I don't know how to fix it."

"This is very unbecoming to the ball-busting queen I married," he said, trying to tease me into a smile.

"But I want to fix it!"

"You are young, my own."

I sniffled and looked up into his black eyes. "So?"

"So some things-many things-cannot be fixed. These people will have to be satisfied with your sorrow. You cannot give them any more of yourself."

"No, but I can give you more of myself."

I went up on tiptoe to kiss him and his mouth pressed over mine, his tongue darting and stroking. I slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders as his fingers were busy with my blouse buttons.

In another few moments we were naked and falling on the bed together. I was clutching at him, kissing him wildly, biting him, drawing blood even as he was drawing mine.

His teeth slid into my jugular just as that other part of him slid between my legs. I crossed my ankles behind his back and returned every thrust, every nip, every kiss.

I took everything. And gave back what I could.

Sometimes, I figured, that's all anyone can do, even if they are the queen of the vampires.

He held me for a long time, after.