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Authors: MaryJanice Davidson
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. . well, I couldn't shake the idea that because die long-prophesied queen of the
vampires( moi) had gotten to Nick first, Sinclair never had a chance. That lie maybe fixed
it for a while, but my power was too strong, and eventually Nick remembered.
Naw. That was too conceited, even for me.
Although it was pretty much the only thing that made sense, unless Nick had been lying
about Jess not telling him. And I knew in my dead heart that Jessica would set herself on
fire before telling my secrets.
Sure, the Book of the Dead prophesied that I would be the strongest, coolest, most badass
vampire in a thousand years, but I still had trouble actually grasping it, you know? Shit,
sixteen months ago I was a secretary dreading her thirtieth birthday. But the Book had
been right about everything else. So why not this?
Which meant, maybe the way to fix this was to mojo Nick myself.
Except I wasn't sure I dared. For one thing, he would be ready for that—for me.
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) For another, I wasn't keen on mind-raping my best friend's boyfriend.
And for another, what right did I have to wipe anybody's brain, even if it was dangerous
not to? I wasn't God. I was just me, Betsy, one-time secretary and part-time vampire and
soon-to-be married woman.
I screeched into my driveway, decamped with Babyjon, hustled through the front door and
up the stairs to his nursery. Changed him, fed him, burped him, all the while trying to
figure out what to do about Nick. And Jessica. And Sinclair. And Antonia. And—
The door chimes rang, and I leapt out of the rocking chair, gaining another gasping burp
from my ¦Other. I plopped him into the crib (it was 6:30 p.m.—time for his mid-afternoon
nap) and hustled down the stairs.
Yippee! Who would it be? Did Garrett eat his key again so they couldn't get to it? Had
Sinclair sent Bowers? Was Nick waiting on the porch with a twelve gauge shotgun? Was
it my mom? (I would consider listening to an apology.) Had Marc escaped the clutches of
whatever madman had snatched him from his shift .it the EW? Had Tina's coffin been
rolled in from the airport? And would I have to sign for it? Was Laura stopping by with
her usual sweetness to offer condolences and offer to take Babyjon off my hands?
Who cared? It was somebody, by God. I wasn't going to be rattling around the house by
myself a minute longer, and that was cause for a Hallelujah brother!
I yanked the door open, a cry of welcome (or "Holster that sidearm, Nick") on my lips. I
had just enough time to register the gleam of a wedding ring, as a fist the size of both of
mine smashed into my face, knocking me back into the foyer.
Chapter 14
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com )
“Ouch, dammit!" I yelped, skidding on my back like a bug and coming to a teeth-rattling
stop against the parlor door. I was splayed in a most undignified way, luckily wearing
walking shorts and not a miniskirt. And my jaw hurt like a bitch. So did my head, from
where it had banged into the door. I responded to the indignity in the usual way. "Ouch.
Dammit!"
While I was swearing, several people had come in (uninvited!), and all of them were
looking down at me.
Wedding Ring Asshole crouched, blinked big yellow owl eyes at me, and said, "So it's
true. You're a vampire. No mortal would be breathing after that one.
"Who's breathing?" I bitched. I started to sit up, but Wedding Ring Asshole quickly stood,
planted his foot m the middle of my chest, and kept me flat on my back. "Oh, now. That's
just plain rude. I mean, ruder." "You have much to answer for," he informed me. He was a fabulous looking fellow, I'll give the asshat that much. Tall, really tall. Brown hair and
gold eyes. Not light brown, not hazel. Gold, like old coins. Not like an owl, more like . .
. a lynx? A lion? Whatever. He was as
vampires( moi) had gotten to Nick first, Sinclair never had a chance. That lie maybe fixed
it for a while, but my power was too strong, and eventually Nick remembered.
Naw. That was too conceited, even for me.
Although it was pretty much the only thing that made sense, unless Nick had been lying
about Jess not telling him. And I knew in my dead heart that Jessica would set herself on
fire before telling my secrets.
Sure, the Book of the Dead prophesied that I would be the strongest, coolest, most badass
vampire in a thousand years, but I still had trouble actually grasping it, you know? Shit,
sixteen months ago I was a secretary dreading her thirtieth birthday. But the Book had
been right about everything else. So why not this?
Which meant, maybe the way to fix this was to mojo Nick myself.
Except I wasn't sure I dared. For one thing, he would be ready for that—for me.
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) For another, I wasn't keen on mind-raping my best friend's boyfriend.
And for another, what right did I have to wipe anybody's brain, even if it was dangerous
not to? I wasn't God. I was just me, Betsy, one-time secretary and part-time vampire and
soon-to-be married woman.
I screeched into my driveway, decamped with Babyjon, hustled through the front door and
up the stairs to his nursery. Changed him, fed him, burped him, all the while trying to
figure out what to do about Nick. And Jessica. And Sinclair. And Antonia. And—
The door chimes rang, and I leapt out of the rocking chair, gaining another gasping burp
from my ¦Other. I plopped him into the crib (it was 6:30 p.m.—time for his mid-afternoon
nap) and hustled down the stairs.
Yippee! Who would it be? Did Garrett eat his key again so they couldn't get to it? Had
Sinclair sent Bowers? Was Nick waiting on the porch with a twelve gauge shotgun? Was
it my mom? (I would consider listening to an apology.) Had Marc escaped the clutches of
whatever madman had snatched him from his shift .it the EW? Had Tina's coffin been
rolled in from the airport? And would I have to sign for it? Was Laura stopping by with
her usual sweetness to offer condolences and offer to take Babyjon off my hands?
Who cared? It was somebody, by God. I wasn't going to be rattling around the house by
myself a minute longer, and that was cause for a Hallelujah brother!
I yanked the door open, a cry of welcome (or "Holster that sidearm, Nick") on my lips. I
had just enough time to register the gleam of a wedding ring, as a fist the size of both of
mine smashed into my face, knocking me back into the foyer.
Chapter 14
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com )
“Ouch, dammit!" I yelped, skidding on my back like a bug and coming to a teeth-rattling
stop against the parlor door. I was splayed in a most undignified way, luckily wearing
walking shorts and not a miniskirt. And my jaw hurt like a bitch. So did my head, from
where it had banged into the door. I responded to the indignity in the usual way. "Ouch.
Dammit!"
While I was swearing, several people had come in (uninvited!), and all of them were
looking down at me.
Wedding Ring Asshole crouched, blinked big yellow owl eyes at me, and said, "So it's
true. You're a vampire. No mortal would be breathing after that one.
"Who's breathing?" I bitched. I started to sit up, but Wedding Ring Asshole quickly stood,
planted his foot m the middle of my chest, and kept me flat on my back. "Oh, now. That's
just plain rude. I mean, ruder." "You have much to answer for," he informed me. He was a fabulous looking fellow, I'll give the asshat that much. Tall, really tall. Brown hair and
gold eyes. Not light brown, not hazel. Gold, like old coins. Not like an owl, more like . .
. a lynx? A lion? Whatever. He was as
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