Through blurred vision I saw Antonia-the-wolf tear through the bars with her teeth and wondered vaguely what the hell a werewolf's teeth were made of. Titanium? In no time at all she'd torn or pulled a big enough hole through the bars and wormed through, then attacked the other coffin with desperate savagery. The rosaries flew off, and she started to rip at the chains.
Getting some of my mind back, I began to help her. Well, by began I mean I flipped the coffin lid open as though the chains weren't there, stuck my hands inside, and poured everything I had onto the shriveled thing inside.
In a few seconds, Garrett was sitting up and looking around.
“Wow, I feel terrific! Um. What the hell just happened?” he asked, sounding quite un-Garrett-like.
Whoever had tried to shake me before—that would be Sinclair, right? Sure, I could see him now, it was Sinclair.
Hey, he looks good! I made him all right. That's nice. Now if I could just do something about this force inside of me that feels like it wants to split my skin. . .
“Elizabeth!” His eyes were wide with awe and fear. “Elizabeth, what are you doing?”
And I was still burning up, still exploding, there was still too much of whatever I had taken from Marjorie in me, on me, all over me, around me.
I had an idea, but I knew I only had a few moments of conscious thought left. So I leaned into Sinclair, making him wince with the touch, and whispered my instructions into his ear.
He nodded. “Yes, my Queen.”
“Hurry,” I finished, and then I collapsed to the ground, wreathed in flames.
Chapter 38
“—maybe we should—”
“—so glad to see all of—”
“—doctor wouldn't do any—”
“—hurt bad?”
I opened my eyes and bit back a shriek. Sinclair, Marc, Tina, and Garrett were all bending over me. I chased them all back with big arm motions and sat up. I saw at once we were in the hospital.
But had we gotten here in time?
“Where is she?” I managed. Then Sinclair's mouth was on mine, his arms were around me, and I sort of forgot about all the madness of the evening for a minute.
“Wait, wait!” I fended him off and looked around.
We were in the right room, I thought. But they all looked alike. “Did it work? Where is she?”
“It's so wonderful to see you're all right, Your Majesty!”
I smiled as I turned to Tina. “When did you two get here?”
“I got home an hour ago,” she said, the circles under her eyes even darker than usual. “Marc had just shown up, and then Sinclair called. Um. Why is Antonia a wolf?”
“You wouldn't believe it if I told you.”
“Elizabeth did it, right after she destroyed Marjorie. And nearly killed herself for her trouble.” Sinclair turned to me—well, really, he turned on me, like a wolverine. “Did you not hear me telling you to stay away?” he demanded, shaking me like a cheap Christmas present.
“Oh, stuff it in your socks, Sinclair. Like I was going to leave you in the clutches of the librarian from Hell. What a bitch .”
“You're sure you're okay?” Marc, being the doctor he was, began to prod my body.
“I—think so.” I felt all right. Almost normal. Normal for me, I meant. Gone was the frantic surge of energy I'd feared would consume me.
And from the way they were looking at me, they all knew it. Their expressions were equal parts awe and fear.
But what about. . .
“Well, I have to say, I haven't felt this good in quite some time,” Garrett said cheerfully. Since he usually spoke in monosyllables, this was going to take some getting used to. “Although I'm not sure what Antonia will say when she's back on two feet tomorrow morning.”
“Yeesh, don't give me something new to worry about. By the way, did you notice if the two guests in our house were still there? Are they okay?”
“Jeannie and Lara are fine,” Marc said. He was dressed in a shirt studded with big purple flowers, muddy khaki shorts, and sandals. “I made their acquaintance a bit abruptly in the bathroom; but we sorted it out as Tina arrived. After Sinclair called, it was clear the danger was pretty much over, so they opted to stay in the mansion.”
“Great. Now that we've accounted for everyone EXCEPT the person we came for, can someone please tell me where my best friend is!?!”
This got a couple of them smiling. Which got me steaming even hotter. Finally, Marc piped up. “Well, we got you here, and your boyfriend did what you told him to do. He dumped you right on top of Jessica, who until then was resting comfortably. By then, you weren't in flames anymore—but you were still giving off tons of heat and sweat. Seeing you roll back and forth on top of Jessica in her bed—well, I'll tell you. I almost turned heterosexual.”
“But the bed's empty now! Did it work? Is she okay?”
“Better than okay,” Tina said, smiling. She was flushed at Marc's description, but she managed to motion to the hallway. “After Detective Berry's initial shock, he saw what we were doing for Jessica and kept you on top of her. Once she was—once you were both okay—well, Jessica and Nick wanted to find some privacy, and we were all in the room, and you still looked like you needed the bed, and so—”
My jaw dropped in appalled outrage. “She's out getting some?”
“In a word,” Tina began.
“Yeppers,” Marc finished.
“Why that—that—”
“They're still somewhere in the hospital,” Sinclair gently corrected me.
As if on cue, Jessica and Nick burst into the room (well, burst through the slowly opening door), giggling and leaning on each other. She was still in her wrinkled hospital gown, and his shirt was decidedly untucked from his pants. No socks. No shoes.
“Well, that was—” She saw all of us waiting for her and clammed up.
“Short?” Marc volunteered.
I knew the moment I saw her that it was gone. For good. She looked beautiful.
I stared. We all stared. Finally, Marc cleared his throat and said, “How are you feeling, Jessica?”
Beaming, she pulled away from Nick and spread her arms wide. “I feel great. But I'm super-duper hungry. Anybody have a candy bar in their pocket? Or possibly a steak?”
Finally, she turned to me, still grinning like a fool. “Bets, you look like shit. What happened?”
Chapter 39
Sinclair carried me up to bed the moment we got home, which was silly because I could walk perfectly well. I was pretty sure. Actually, given that it was only about 1:00 a.m. I was awfully tired.
The last thing I felt before I conked off was him pulling my engagement ring off my finger. I hope he threw it into the nearest sewer. Boy, was I going to give him a piece of my mind when I. . .
I sat up. The bedside clock said 5:30 p.m. Sinclair was at his desk, scribbling on papers, but looked up and was at my side in half a second.
“Elizabeth—”
“Dead.”
“—are you—”
“You are so dead .”
“—all right?”
“You gave me a used engagement ring?” I yelped.
He looked pained as he sat down beside me. “Antique.”
“Used.”
“As you like. I am very sorry.”
I slumped back against the pillows and slapped a hand over my eyes. “You couldn't have known. Friendly helpful Marjorie, right?”
“I thought a ring set with stones that had belonged to a queen would be a fitting gift.”
“Zombie. Dead dad. Dead stepmother. Well, the dead stepmother might actually not be so bad. . . but then YOU almost died!”
“I am very sorry.”
I removed my hand and looked at him. His fierce dark gaze was boring into me, and his hands were trembling. “Oh, hey. Like I said. You couldn't have known. You got rid of it, right?”
“I did. I—”
“Never mind. I don't care if I never s
ee the thing again, and I sure don't want to know what you did with it. Also, we're going to Tiffany's to pick out a new one, right?” “If you wish.”
“You look like hell.”
“I was. . . terrified for you. I was certain she would kill you. And I was useless. Worse than useless. I could hear what was happening but could not help. I—”
“Come here,” I said. “Have I mentioned I missed you like crazy?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Well, I have. Missed you like crazy, I mean.” I was tugging at his shirt, and buttons were flying all over the place. “Place just isn't the same without you. And hey! Next time the Big Bad lures you out of the house, maybe you could leave a note?”
“Or even text message you,” he agreed solemnly I was frantic to get his clothes off, frantic to touch him, feel him, taste him. I heard cloth tear as I got his shirt off, broke his belt buckle, tore at his pants.
I gripped his hips with my knees and knelt down to have a bite or two. Or three. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!
“Oh boy,” he groaned.
It was so fucking fine to have him in my house, my bed. It was everything I'd missed and then some. It was a dream come true.
(For me as well, my own.)
And oh, it was so good to feel him against me, his hands on me. I pulled at him until we were both sitting up, me still on top, and we kissed hungrily, as if we couldn't get enough air. Or enough of each other. He pushed and I went over. . .
.. . and then I pushed, and I was back on top again.
Mine, I thought.
Yours, he agreed.
I straddled him to get closer, to take him inside of me, and rode him with great delight, staring at the ceiling while his fingers dug into my hip bones. He nipped at my fingers, and I swooped down to kiss him again.
Oh, Sinclair.
Elizabeth . My own, my queen, my dread queen. Wait a minute. Are we—?
I beg you. Do not destroy the moment with a rude gesture or thought. But we're— Yes.
You can— Yes.
I love you.
Yes. Oh, yes. Right.. . . .. there.
Chapter 40
“Here comes the bride,“ I hummed, slipping into my shoes. ”All dressed in white. (And red.) Here comes the bride, back from the dead. (Again.)"
“That song blows.” Jessica leaned over my shoulder to freshen her lipstick with my mirror. “And don't get me started on your singing voice.”
“Cured your cancer and all I get is grief.”
“Hey, I didn't make you cure me. By the way, is it just me or is everyone still freaked out about what you did the other night?”
“Yeah, well. I'm not exactly sure what it is I did.”
“Neither are Sinclair or Tina. That's why it's driving them nuts.”
“Not to mention Michael and the others,” Antonia piped up, coming into the dressing room without knocking, as was her habit. “They're gonna walk soft around you for a while. Heh. Oh, and bimbo? Next time you've got two dead guys in coffins and me in a cage, lively and ready to kick ass, let me out first! I could have helped you with that rotten monkey Marjorie.”
“I'll keep it in mind.”
“Least now I know what the fuss is all about,” she muttered, waving away Jessica's offer of a mascara wand. “Running around as a wolf is fun .” She fussed with her lapels and managed only to hopelessly rumple her ruby jacket. “But you know? I haven't had a vision since the one indicating Sinclair shouldn't go to Marjorie's alone. I wonder if I can still see the future.”
“Well,” I said, feeling uncomfortable, “if you can't, and you miss it, I'm sorry. I didn't—”
“Can it, Betsy. I'm not bitching. Just wondering.” “Will you hold still?” Jessica demanded. Her suit, a twin to Antonia's, was sapphire blue. “You're all rumpled.”
“And you're all annoying, but I'm putting up with that shit, aren't I? I'm here in the middle of monkey rituals, aren't I?”
“Shut up,” I said warmly.
Tina rapped on the door, then poked her head inside. “It's almost time, Majesty. My! You're breathtaking.”
“It's true,” I said modestly. Tina was in the same Vera Wang suit as Jessica and Antonia, except hers was buttercup yellow. With Tina's teeny frame and big dark eyes, and cascades of blond hair, it worked.
Everything worked. It was my day, and everything worked.
I sighed happily and applied more blush. “Hey, did Sinclair talk to you about the new job?”
“What new job?” Jessica asked.
“We need a new librarian,” I told my reflection, and grinned. “The last one came down with a slight case of death.”
“I have many responsibilities here in the mansion,” Tina said. “I will have to consider this very carefully.”
“Crissake, when don't you consider everything very carefully?” Antonia yawned and—I wasn't sure how she did this without moving—rumpled her suit jacket again.
“But the chance to get my hands on all those tomes. . .” Tina was practically drooling. “The opportunity for pure research alone makes it a tempting prize.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tempting. Betsy, lighten up with the Peach Parfait or you'll be all slutted out.”
“Here, let me.” Jessica snatched the blusher from my hands and grabbed a tissue with the other hand. She rubbed my cheeks, and for an awful moment I thought she was going to spit on the Kleenex.
“Hmm,” Tina said. That was all, just, “Hmm.”
“How can you screw up blush?” Jessica was bitching. "You make it look like you're blushing. Then you stop.
“Hmm.”
“Will all of you bitches just leave me alone?” I cried.
“The warning cry of the Raptor Bridal Bird,” Antonia snickered.
“Look how snotty you got since you found out you are able to turn into a wolf.”
“And when your boyfriend remembered how to read. Oh, and that he has a master's in math.”
“That's it!” Tina cried, startling all of us into shutting up. “You never feed, Majesty, compared to us you never feed. So you're always hungry. Always. You think that's how it's supposed to be. For you, hunger is as much a state of the mind as it is of the body. So when Marjorie was killing you, your instinct wasn't to reach with your teeth. It was to reach with your mind! ”
She was on her feet, screeching that last.
Antonia stared. I stared. Jessica corrected my blush.
“Um. Excuse me,” she muttered, smoothing her skirt.
My mom poked her head in the room. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” Antonia replied.
“I think she was talking to me,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, like it's all about you.”
“Today it is. Let's do it!”
“You may kiss the bride," Judge Summit informed us, and Sinclair was too glad to comply. He'd done a remarkable job of concealing his boredom during the brief ceremony, though his dark eyes had gleamed at the sight of me in my gown.
The guests (all the usual suspects, plus the Wyndhams) clapped politely and, as we went back down the aisle, tossed little paper hearts instead of rice.
“They're throwing paper hearts? At vampires?” Sinclair bitched.
“Oh, hush up and try to enjoy the moment.”
“But why didn't you tell me you thought there'd be a problem with Sinclair going to see Marjorie?" I asked while the others devoured the chocolate cake (with raspberry filling!) and I tried not to drool. Too bad solid food made me barf.
“She dealt with the problem directly,” Michael explained. “She teamed up with the alpha male and tried to support him. Going to you would have been. . .”
“Useless?” I offered.
“Unnecessary,” Antonia corrected me, but her cheeks were red. She had underestimated how much I could help, and who could blame her? I wouldn't have thought I could do much, either.
At least not until today.
“Culture clash,” Derik said cheerfully, wolfing down
his second slice of cake. “Antonia has spent too much time with you vampires. A true werewolf would have sought to put together the largest pack possible.”
“Yeah, well, a true werewolf can kiss my ass,” Antonia offered.
“You are a true werewolf,” Michael pointed out. “You always have been.”
“Come on, pack leader. Don't deny there'll be some at home who will finally decide I'm actually worthy of the secret handshake.”
Michael said nothing, but Derik broke the tension by showering Antonia in cake crumbs.
“Anyway,” Tina put in, batting a few wayward crumbs out of her hair, “everything worked out fine that day, thanks to Her Majesty. Now people will know better than to ask you, Eric, when they need help.” She delivered this last line with a nasty, but still friendly, smile.
“I will pretend my feelings aren't lacerated,” Sinclair said dryly. His hand was resting on my shoulder. In fact, since I'd rescued him, he was always touching me somewhere or other. Not that I minded in the slightest. I was also loving the fact that we were spending most of our evenings trying to hurt each other during lovemaking.
I glanced down at my new rings. Traditional wedding band and engagement ring. Platinum bands (Sinclair had the twin), one carat diamond setting. Not used. Not cursed.
And Sinclair had taken the news that he was Babyjon's new daddy with remarkable calm. I suspected he still felt tremendous guilt over giving me the cursed ring in the first place. So it was only fair that he would help me raise this kid for the next seventeen or eighteen years.
“So where are you guys off to?” Laura asked. We'd made up just before the wedding, and she had apologized. I'd told her that dear old Mom had dropped by from Hell, and she'd been horrified. She'd suited up in her Vera Wang (emerald green, the color of her eyes when she was eeeeevil). We were fine again. For now.
“New York City,” Sinclair replied. The one aspect of the wedding he'd actually taken an interest in was planning the honeymoon. “And I thank you for taking the baby while we're gone.”
“Oh, it's my pleasure,” Laura gushed.
“We're leaving him behind?” I cried. “But he'll miss us! Me.”
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