Her Lying Days Are Done
Page 1
HER LYING DAYS ARE DONE
LIARS AND VAMPIRES
BOOK 5
Robert J. Crane
with Lauren Harper
HER LYING DAYS ARE DONE
LIARS AND VAMPIRES, BOOK 5
Robert J. Crane
with Lauren Harper
Copyright © 2018 Ostiagard Press
All Rights Reserved.
1st Edition
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Author’s Note
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Other Works by Robert J. Crane
Chapter 1
I’d always wondered what it would be like to introduce my boyfriend to my parents. Never having had a real boyfriend before, it was something I’d only imagined. I pictured a pleasant scene, a family dinner where we’d sit down over garlic breadsticks and pizza and share a meal and a conversation. My dad would be smiling, pleased with my choice in men. My mom might even crack a grin at some funny thing he said, all of us laughing at some witty joke. I could imagine myself sitting back, serene, watching it all go smoothly.
I’d also like to have been involved in the decision of inviting said boyfriend over to the house to meet dear old Mom and Dad. That way, I could have been the one to agree to disagree at my own leisure.
But that wasn’t the way it had happened. I’d come downstairs and there he was, no choice, no control. And here I was, left sitting across from my parents and my boyfriend at the dining room table, chewing awkwardly into the silence, wondering how I was going to explain that my boyfriend was a vampire. No easy feat for any normal teenage girl, trusted by her parents.
But it was especially difficult when you’re known as a perpetual liar.
The food was starting to get cold as we were sitting there, the four of us— me, my boyfriend Mill, Mom and Dad, around the old oak stained table that Mom actually really hated but brought with us to Florida when we moved, as a memento of our home in New York.
The garlic knots filled the air with a tantalizing aroma. I wanted to sink my teeth into their warm, soft, salty goodness, but some of my appetite had sort of jumped out of the window when I had decided that it was time—finally—to spill my guts.
About everything.
All eyes were on me on me, as if they could see it written all over my face that I wanted to say something. That I was bursting to say something, really. My mouth hung partially open, and not for a garlic knot. My palms, curled up into fists in my lap, were slick with sweat. The knot in my chest was tight and uncomfortable, lacking any garlic joy.
The wooden chair was uncomfortable, hard against my legs and my back, and I wondered if Mom had cranked up the air conditioning. I was freezing, goosebumps appearing on my bare arms, a chill raking up and down my spine. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that everything was about to change when I finally chose to open my mouth.
Nope. Definitely not that.
I brought a shaky hand up to my forehead. I was so tired, I closed my eyes for just a second. I’d just spent almost a week in Faerie with Lockwood, caught in the middle of a war between two kingdoms…but barely fifteen minutes had passed here on Earth.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart, the adrenaline surging through my veins like I was hooked up to a pure caffeine drip. Pulling my hand back from my face, I looked around the table.
Mill was watching me, his gaze sharp yet questioning, his head slightly cocked to the side. His forehead was wrinkled as his eyebrows knit together in one line. His mouth opened, and wordlessly he mouthed, “Cassie?”
I looked away.
Mom and Dad were looking at me, waiting, Mom’s eyes surprisingly hawk-like, Dad’s soft and questioning. My heart skipped a beat, and a moment of doubt caused me to rub my fingers against my sweating palms.
I, the compulsive liar, was seriously contemplating telling my parents that I was dating a vampire. Madness was not— as far as I knew— hereditary in my family, which meant maybe I was setting a new trend.
No. Lying was not a new trend. Not for me.
I was done running.
I was done hiding the truth.
“Mom? Dad?” I licked my lips softly, my tongue running dry over them. I looked back at Mill. I hoped he would forgive me for what I was about to do. “There are vampires in the world.”
Crickets.
No, seriously, there were crickets outside, chirping happily in the warm, late spring night.
Mill’s eyes grew wide, thick brows arching so high they were nearly lost underneath all his dirty blond hair.
Mom’s face was blank. Dad sighed, looking down at his hands that were knotted together on the scratched table top.
I drew a shaky breath. “Mill? He’s one of them.”
Mill, still as a statue, gaped at me, his gaze unwavering, as if he wasn’t sure he had heard me right.
Well, he should have told me that he was coming over, first. We could have planned this better, something a little more in line with my adolescent fantasies of how this boyfriend/parents meeting should have gone, dammit.
Besides, once I told him everything that had happened in Faerie…well, hopefully he’d understand my need to turn over a new leaf.
My revelation about Mill’s true nature was greeted by more silence. It was like the school library in here, minus the smell of old books and the hissing of the librarian, Mrs. Greene.
Mom’s brow was slightly arched, her lawyer face passive and unreadable.
Dad’s face had fallen, and I could see the confusion lingering in his eyes behind his glasses.
Well, this was about as well I could have expected it to go, in all honesty. It was about how well I took it when it first happened to me, and I was being chased by one. Even when I saw the dents in the steel door, I couldn’t believe it.
Kinda like how my parents looked right now.
Mom was the first to move, fo
lding her arms over her chest, and letting out a mighty sigh. “Cassie…we really hoped you were past this lying thing.”
Mill ground his teeth together, unnoticed by my parents. He was probably biting his tongue so hard that I half expected black blood to start oozing out of the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not lying,” I said. “…This time.”
Mom flinched, blinking a few times.
“Here, let me prove it,” I said. I was on a roll. I had to keep going, and I wasn’t lacking for experiences to help illustrate the point. “That guy who was stalking me? Who kidnapped you and locked you in that wine cellar out by the bay? Totally a vampire.”
Mom and Dad exchanged a look.
“Remember when, a few weeks ago, I got busted sneaking back in at daybreak? And I told you I fell asleep at Xandra’s house? Yeah, I actually went to Miami, and started a vampire war with Mill’s help. Sorry.”
Mill blanched. Mom’s eyes narrowed, her red acrylic nails tapping against the table, and Dad started looking at me over the top of his glasses, as if he wasn’t hearing me right.
Emboldened by their lack of reaction, I went on. “The New York thing? Where Uncle Mike got attacked and our house burned down? Vampires. Mill and I had to burn down the lodge where they were hiding to get rid of them.”
Mom pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re confessing to arson, Cassandra?”
Uh oh.
She only pulled out the full “Cassandra” on me when she was really mad.
“I—”
Dad cut in. “What happened with that guy in the mansion here in Tampa?”
“I killed him,” I said without thinking.
That one landed with a thud. “And murder, too,” Mom said, throwing her hands up. “Cassandra, I don’t even need to hand you a shovel. You’re digging your own grave.”
Dad looked at me like I had suddenly grown another head. “I can’t even believe this,” he muttered under his breath.
“Um, Katherine—” Mill started.
“It’s Mrs. Howell, thank you very much,” Mom snapped, giving Mill the most fleeting glance. She was so chummy with him before. Guess her daughter admitting to arson and murder killed the goodwill, too.
Mill hung his head ever so slightly. “Mrs. Howell... Byron was undead. Soooo... He can’t technically be murdered…”
Mom looked over at Mill. Dad just shook his head.
Mill cleared his throat. “You know what? Maybe I’ll just stay out of this one.”
Mom gave him a daggered look. “Excellent idea, hotshot.”
I nodded, pointing at Mill. “Killing a vampire isn’t murder. How can I be arrested for killing someone who’s already dead? There isn’t even a body. I mean, you’re the lawyer and all, but I’m pretty sure there’s a thing about habeas corpses—”
“It’s ‘habeas corpus’,” Mom said through gritted teeth.
I shrugged. “He was going to kill you guys, and me, if I didn’t stop him.”
Mom was totally done with me. Her expression was suddenly blank as she sat away from me, placing her arms like a castle wall in front of her. It was like I was some client, completely off my rocker. She’d told me stories about those sorts before; they were the ones she refused to represent.
Dad was staring at his plate, his shoulders sagging.
The looks they were giving me suggested they were just about ready to send me away to the local asylum for some time in a padded cell.
After all this time, after moving from New York to Tampa, giving up everything I’d known my whole life for a fresh start…
They still thought I was the world’s biggest liar.
The worst part was that I had just confessed to everything—everything—that had caused them so much strife the last few months. Every situation where I was in danger, every time I’d fibbed to hide the crazy truth of this world, and every instance where I had lied to protect them from the vampires and fae and paranormal madness flooding my new life.
In one five-minute conversation, I had confessed it all…
And they didn’t believe me.
It was as though every muscle in my body died, and I just sat there, still. “You don’t believe me,” I said.
“Can you think of any reason we should, dear?” Mom asked, in the least affectionate tone she could have possibly used. “Given your history?”
Mill wouldn’t even look at me, his eyes glued to the table.
“You know,” I said, almost let out a quiet chuckle of complete, forlorn desperation, “I actually thought about telling you when Byron first started stalking me. This…was exactly what I thought would happen. That you wouldn’t listen rationally to my tale of a super stalker, that you’d skip right to, ‘Let’s chain Cassie up and throw her in the loony bin’!”
“Tempting,” Mom said. “Very tempting at the moment.” I could see her anger building in the redness of her cheeks. She was distancing herself from me, emotionally, the lawyer in her coming to the fore.
“Cassie…” Dad said, leaning onto the table with both elbows, voice soft, almost pitying. “I thought we were past all of this. I thought you were done telling lies. But…” he sighed, shaking his head. “Here you are, telling us that all your problems come down to…vampires? Cassie, what are you trying to do here?”
“I’m not trying to do anything—”
“Do not interrupt your father!” Mom said, glaring icily at me. She was done with me.
“Vampire wars? Your boyfriend, a vampire?” Dad asked, raising a hand to wave at Mill. “What do you think of all this?”
Mill’s mouth moved up and down a couple times, no sound coming out. When he finally spoke, it was a gentle stutter. “I... uh…”
“Even your boyfriend won’t back up your lies this time,” Mom said, shaking her head. “There are no such things as vampires, Cassandra. You know that. I don’t even know why you’re trying to pull this nonsense. What’s your game, here?”
I averted my eyes, staring down at the water mark on the table where I set down my glass every time we sat at this table, like a reflection of every night of my life. “I don’t have a game.”
“We thought that Tampa was going to be good for you,” she said, the contempt just welling out of her voice. “That things were getting better, in spite of the...setbacks. But...it seems like we were wrong. That it’s worse than ever...”
Bile rose in my throat. I tried to swallow it away.
“These friends of yours… they’re just enabling you,” Mom said. “Is Xandra in on this, too? This... vampire lie?” Her arms were clamped tightly around her midsection. “Because if so, I don’t know how comfortable I am with you spending time with her anymore.” She looked at Mill. “With any of your new friends.”
I looked at Mill, who was now sitting rigidly in his chair.
I had told the truth, at last... And I’d failed.
Mom was right. Things really were worse than ever. I had a hard time imagining how they could have possibly gotten any more terrible from here—
But then there was a shattering sound, and glass from one of the windows behind Mom gave way to something orange and glowing, about the size of small pineapple that tumbled into the room. It hit the ground and shattered, a bottle filled with gasoline and flames, breaking into pieces and igniting the carpet on fire.
Oh.
Well.
Question answered.
That was how things could get worse.
Chapter 2
The fire blazed on the carpet behind my mother, throwing off immediate heat that turned my sweating palms into a furious river of perspiration down my hands and the back of my neck. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest, and there was a sharp ringing in my ears from the shattered glass. I rose to my feet, knees feeling like jelly, and I winced as I banged my thigh on the bottom of the table as I stood.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again.
All thoughts of my leg pain were forgotten as I looked across the
table. Flames were rising behind my mother as she stood there, framed by a rising fire in the background, like some sort of hellish portrait. She wasn’t even looking at the imminent danger at her back, though, instead staring at my father, her finger rising to point at him, shaking slightly, her mouth hanging open.
Wheeling to follow her finger, I saw Dad on the floor, trying to roll on the carpet in the narrow space, the sleeve of his sweater singed and smoking. He didn’t even make a sound, he just stared at his arm, trying to beat at it with his bare palm.
I snatched one of Mom’s good cloth napkins from the table, along with my half empty glass of water. I knelt beside him and doused his sleeve in the water. The fabric hissed, and I took to it with the napkin. Sorry, Mom. I know you got those as a wedding present.
My gaze shifted upward at the sign of movement. The edge of Dad’s chair had caught fire, and the carpet was smoldering where he landed on the ground. The splash from the Molotov cocktail had gotten him.
“Dad, are you okay?” I asked.
He didn’t answer; his eyes were rooted to the fire behind my mother.
The edge of the curtains over the windows were slowly being engulfed in flames, too. The room was brighter than it ever was even in the middle of the day.
Mill had leapt the table and was dragging Mom away from the window. She stared at the fire as it continued to crawl up the walls, not resisting him as he pulled her away. “We have to get out of here,” he said.
“Obviously.” I seized Dad by the sleeve he hadn’t singed, pulling him toward the door.
“Where’s the fire extinguisher?” Mom asked, clinging to Mill. Maybe she thought he was Dad. “We have to find it— we have to stop this—”
The fire alarm had started to shriek, the sharp beeping overhead making me want to cover my ears. I didn’t let go of Dad, though.
“Fire extinguishers are for when your skillet goes up while you’re cooking, Katherine,” my dad said, voice a little scratchy. “This is way beyond us. We need to get the hell out of here.”