You’ll Understand When You’re Dead: Broken Heart Vampires Book 12

by Michele Bardsley

  “Stop licking me, you rat bastard demon!” Natalie shouted. “Matt!”

  Matt crossed the candlelit room and grabbed the bastard kneeling at her feet. He yanked up the slimy red thing and smashed a fist into its pudgy face.

  “Did he touch you? I’ll kill him.” Matt growled, shaking the thing dangling from his grip. Dangling? Matt looked again. The demon was maybe three feet tall with black eyes and tiny horns protruding from his head.

  Black blood gushed from the demon’s nose.

  Gold sparkles started appearing at spots in the room and within moments, Jessica, Eva, and Lorcan shimmered into view. Jessica magicked her Ruadan swords and swung them both in an arc. “That the asshole?”

  “The Darkest Dark One,” said Natalie, her head slumping in relief.

  “You mean the smallest small one,” Jessica said.

  “Are you okay,” Matt asked, holding the creature away from his body.

  “He wanted my soul,” Natalie replied.

  Jessica stepped forward and put the point of one of the swords at the demon’s throat. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Bebeesus,” sniffled the creature.

  The door at the top of the stairs busted open and several people bolted down into the basement. Brady had his .9mm ready to go and did a sweep of the room. He looked at the creature Matt held. “That the asshole?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Could someone release me from the chair?” asked Natalie.

  Three vampires rushed to help her.

  A loud scream startled everyone as a vampire leapt from the shadows and fell to the floor, squirming. “Make them stop! Their tiny teeth are like razors!”

  “Jesus H. Christ,” said Jessica. “Who’s he?”

  “Oh, that’s Phil.” Finally freed from the ropes, Natalie stood up, walked to the vampire, and kicked him hard in the balls. “That’s for being a dick, Dick.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” asked Eva as she stared at the writhing vampire with wide eyes.

  “I implanted the idea he was being eaten by rats,” said Matt. He dropped the demon, and the tiny beast hit the ground like a stone and cowered at Matt’s feet. But Matt didn’t care. He stepped to Natalie and drew her into his embrace. He cupped her face, looking her over for any wounds or trauma. He checked every part of her body that didn’t warrant more privacy. She was trembling, but not injured. The fear gelled into relief. He kissed her soundly, reassuring himself that Natalie was alive-ish and all right. “What did he do?”

  “He sucked my toes.”

  “He what?”

  “He sucked her toes,” repeated Jessica. “Pervert.”

  Lorcan burst out laughing, and Eva hit him. “It’s not funny. He could have...bit her or something. Demon saliva is poisonous, you know. Should we call a doctor?”

  “I neeb a boctor,” the demon formerly known as The Darkest Dark One whined. “He broke by bose.”

  “You don’t get a doctor,” said Jessica. “You get a one way ticket back to the hell you came from, so shut up.”

  “What’s going on?” Mayor Hewie bellowed as he pounded down the stairs, followed by Bettie, Lenette, and Nell.

  “He sucked her toes,” said Eva gravely.

  “He sucked her toes?” Hewie bent down and shook a chubby finger in the demon’s face. “Look here, mister, I don’t know where you’re from, but round these parts toe-sucking is simply not allowed.” Hewie cleared his throat. “Do you mind? You’re bleeding on my shoe.”

  Matt held on tightly to Natalie. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. His emotions were so tangled that he didn’t think he’d ever get them unknotted.

  “I’d like to wash my feet,” Natalie said.

  “He didn’t bite you, did he? No bruises?”

  “No.”

  Matt felt a touch and looked down at Eva and Jessica. “We’ll take her to the bathroom,” said Eva.

  “C’mon, Natalie,” added Jessica. “Let’s get the demon drool off your feet.”

  He hugged Natalie and kissed her cheek. He watched her and her friends leave the basement, and then looked down at the demon he’d punched.

  “What do we do with him?” asked Matt.

  Brady pulled out his cell phone. “We call the demon whisperers,” he said, pushing buttons, “Phoebe and Connor will take care of him.”

  Natalie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She’d been scared witless about the idea of a demon feasting on her—as Phil kept exclaiming. Instead, the demon had sucked on her toes and slobbered on her feet.

  Yuck!

  Natalie stepped in the bathtub and scrubbed her feet under the rush of water from the tap. When Natalie felt clean, she turned off the water. “That was so weird.”

  “And disgusting,” said Jessica, giving Natalie the towel.

  Natalie shivered as she patted her feet dry. “He had a forked tongue, and it felt like sandpaper.”

  “Well, it’s over now,” soothed Eva. “The demon will get sent back to hell, and the ghosts will go to limbo. Everything will fine before dawn.”

  “Thanks,” said Natalie. Speaking of ghosts, Ronald was dead. She didn’t care about him, but she wondered how she would tell Kimmie. Did she need to tell her daughter? The man had been dead to them for three years already, what did it matter. She led the girls into her kitchen and poured everyone a glass of lemonade. They sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Okay,” said Jessica. “Give. Are you marrying Matt?”

  Natalie shook her head. “He’s human.”

  “He’s awesome,” said Jess. “You two fit together. I think you should go for it.”

  “And bind him to me for a hundred years? That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “He should probably get a vote,” said Jessica. “Shouldn’t he, Eva?”

  Eva raised her hands. “It’s not our business.” She looked at Natalie and smiled. “I wouldn’t give up on being with Matt, especially if you love him.”

  “Mom!” Kimmie appeared in the doorway. She ran toward her mother, and Natalie stood up and hugged her daughter. Kimmie started crying and apologizing.

  “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Dorica from the doorway. “You better sit down.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Natalie had grounded Kimmie until she was forty-two. Kimmie had taken the grounding and the ban of all electronics without a murmur of complaint. Even though her daughter had damn well created a serious problem for Natalie and other Broken Heart folks, she seemed genuinely sorry and upset.

  At least the demon had been returned to the bowels of hell, and all ghosts, except Jerry, had been expelled from Broken Heart and sent into limbo. Natalie decided it best to let her daughter know that her father had died—but didn’t include the news about the ghost cow. There was no point, and though Kimmie had long ago accepted that her father had abandoned them, Natalie could see she was still hurt by the knowledge of his death.

  When the events of the night before had wound down, Matt had kissed her good night. Natalie could still feel his lips against hers. The conversation with Eva and Jessica about marrying Matt gave her hope that maybe she and the psychic could have something wonderful together one day. Maybe.

  In the meantime, she’d been called to the Emporium by Bettie and her bridal squad. Natalie figured she might as well go and finally dispel the whole marriage myth.

  As she closed the door behind her, she heard the cough of an engine. Turning, she caught sight of Mr. Smith, Bettie’s husband, backing out his 1957 Ford.

  “Natalie,” he called out. “Get in. Bettie says I’m supposed to take you to the Emporium.”

  “Thanks,” said Natalie. She slid into the car. “I have my own wheels, you know.”

  “Yep.” Mr. Smith pulled out into the street and sped up to a whole ten miles an hour. “You and Matt will do just fine. Long, happy marriage like me and my Bettie. Me and the missus have been married two-thousand and thirty-three blessed years.”r />
  “That’s wonderful,” Natalie said, trying not to watch the speedometer. “But I don’t think Matt and I are going to get hitched. Do you think you could go a bit faster?”

  “Speed limit,” Mr. Smith said. “No reason to get your knickers in a knot, young lady. We get there when we get there.”

  They crept into the parking lot at a snail’s pace, and Natalie resisted the urge to jump out of the vehicle. Mr. Smith circled the lot three times before finding a suitable spot. Despite her impatience, Natalie waited for him to get out of the car, lock the door, put the keys in his pocket, and finally, finally, shuffle toward the Emporium’s entrance.

  When Natalie and Mr. Smith entered the building, people milled around smiling and laughing.

  “There you are!” Bettie kissed her husband on the cheek, and then she latched onto Natalie’s arm. “We have a surprise for you, dear.”

  Dread and resignation filled Natalie. She couldn’t escape fate, at least not the fate engineered by the residents of Broken Heart. She followed Bettie reluctantly. Maybe she should just confess everything to Bettie right now. The whole town would learn of Natalie’s deception within the hour and she could go home and drink vodka martinis.

  Instead, she trailed Bettie through the building, down the hall, and into a large room. A huge banner proclaiming, “Congratulations Matt and Natalie” hung against the back wall. Every resident in Broken Heart appeared to have crowded into the room.

  “Surprise! The whole town wanted to celebrate your happiness with you,” Bettie said.

  Hewie Twinkletoes stepped forward. “Seems like your wedding day got moved up, but the Little People and I sure do hope you’ll still be at our ritual god and goddess on Saturday. You and Matt are the perfect Glimmerrod and Sparklenose.” Hewie squeezed her shoulder, gave her a wide smile, and then meandered toward a table filled with food

  “Hello, pretty mama,” an Elvis-like voice intoned.

  Bettie nodded at Natalie, and then took her husband over to the punch bowl.

  “Getcha to the church on time?” Frank curled his lip in an Elvis sneer and tugged his purple cowboy hat. “Thank ya, thank ya very much.”

  “Okay then.”

  Frank nodded and wandered away.

  Eva and Jessica found her and dragged her away to a corner.

  “Holy crap,” said Jess. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I think Bettie is trying to marry me off to Matt. Like right now.”

  “And what do you two want to do?” asked Eva.

  “I think … I think I love him. And I want him. But a hundred years!” Natalie shook her head. “I can’t ask him to give up his life to be in mine.”

  “Look, we can formulate an escape,” said Jessica. “Just say the word, and I’ll get you the hell out of here.”

  “No, you won’t.” Bettie appeared and yanked Natalie along to a white lace table that held several dozen bottles of champagne. Matt stood there, a glass of bubbling liquid in his hand. Bettie shoved one into Natalie’s grasp. “The groom’s here! Time for a toast!”

  Natalie stared at him, eyes wide. Then she remembered he could read her thoughts. Are we going to let this continue?

  Yep.

  What?

  “Toasts to the happy couple,” Bettie trilled. “Who’s first?”

  “May they love each other tender,” came Frank’s southern drawl. “And get all shook up in happiness.”

  People laughed and drank. Matt tapped his glass with hers and sipped. She did, too, trying not to choke on the pale, sweet liquid.

  “May your love bloom and grow,” said Mr. Smith. “And don’t forget to prune those thorns!”

  More laughing, tapping, drinking.

  Several more toasts rang out, and Natalie felt worse and worse. For a moment, she imagined her and Matt were truly engaged, that all the well-wishing and cheers and teasing meant something. But reality intruded. She wasn’t going to trap Matt into a hundred-year mating, no matter how much she wanted him, or how much she wanted this wedding to be real. She figured it was time to admit her mistake, face it, and live with it.

  She had to stop this. Now.

  “Everyone,” Natalie spoke above the chattering. “I have something to say.”

  “Sshhh,” Mrs. Smith said. “Natalie wants to toast the groom!”

  I want to be with you. Matt’s words in her mind startled her.

  She turned to him and her breath caught. He was gorgeous. Funny. Sincere. He’d given her so much—more than he would ever know. She wished things were different … that they were two humans who could date, love, and yes, one day, marry.

  His gaze caressed her face, and she didn’t want to interpret the emotion in his eyes. It was too soft, too tender, too much like love, for her to tolerate. She turned and faced everyone, her heart breaking at all the smiles aimed her way.

  “You’ve all been very kind,” she said. “But I’m afraid there’s been a huge misunderstanding.” She took a deep breath.

  “Natalie.” Matt put down his champagne and drew her into his embrace. “I’m in love with you. Marry me. Say yes.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb, and Natalie felt shock arrow through her.

  “You’ll die before I will.”

  “I’ll die without you.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Natalie.” He kissed her softly. “I’m yours. So please, be mine. Say yes,” he said again.

  “What in the blue blazes is going on!” Bettie pointed at the two of them. “You two are in love, and that’s a fact.”

  “You are,” said her husband. “We’d know, too. We’re romance fae.”

  “Like Cupid?”

  Bettie rolled her eyes. “Do not get me started on Cupid. Like the Greeks cornered the market on love.”

  Mr. Smith patted his wife’s arm. “Now, dear, let’s not ruin their happy day.”

  “Thanks, everyone,” said Matt. He pulled Natalie away from the table and swung her up into his arms.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’re being wishy-washy, so I’m taking you home,” he said. “And then … I’m just gonna take you.”

  Hot and cold shivers invaded her. Making love with Matt. Binding with him. “Are you sure?”

  “Damn right.” Matt carried her outside and put her into his Jeep. “I’m psychic, Natalie. I know my own mind better than most. And my own heart. You and I are good together.”

  In no time at all, they were near Matt’s house. The tires screeched as he pulled the car into his driveway and threw the gearshift into park. He leapt from the Jeep, ran around the passenger side and opened her door. He scooped her up once more.

  Nerves tingling, they entered his home. Matt flicked a small lamp, which only illuminated the table on which it sat and part of the burgundy couch. Natalie closed the front door and leaned against it, uncertainty eating away at her.

  “God, you look beautiful,” Matt said. Natalie’s head snapped up, and she drew in a breath at the stark desire reflected in Matt’s eyes. She licked her dry lips and tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

  “Stay there.”

  Matt disappeared into the bedroom. He reappeared seconds later, completely naked. His arousal jutted, beckoning her. Sharp desire ripped through her.

  “Matt.”

  He surrounded her, putting his hands on either side of her face. Leaning down, he kissed her, his lips devouring hers. He cupped her breasts, pressing his erection against her. He pulled a scant inch away and looked at her, his eyes hungry, needy.

  “Unless you have a preference,” he whispered. “I thought I’d take you here first.”

  “T-take me?”

  He unzipped the dress, sliding the straps off her arms. The material pooled at her feet. Then he wiggled off her underwear. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you, Natalie. What happened in the van was incredible. But I want everything, and the waiting’s killing me.”

  His words, accompanied by his hot,
fervent touches, held her hostage. She wanted him. They had all night to explore each other, to take things slowly. To make sure that he really, really, really wanted to do this.

  He bent to stroke her breasts with his tongue, and she moaned. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Be sure,” she whispered.

  “I am,” he said, positioning himself between her thighs.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He paused and stared into her eyes. “Yes?”

  “Yes,” she said again. “I’m yours.”

  A smile curled Matt’s lips. “About time.” Slowly, he entered her wet heat and within seconds he’d filled her completely.

  Natalie dotted kisses on his face and neck, rubbing her breasts on his chest. His hands grasped her hips, and she held onto his shoulders, urging him closer. Her pleasure expanded, encompassed.

  “I want to bite you,” she said. “I think I need to.”

  “Do it.”

  She sank her fangs into the side of his neck. His warm blood filled her mouth, and as she drank, his movements quickened.

  “That feels incredible.”

  She tightened around him, drawing him in deeper. She licked the wound she’d created with her fangs, and then looked at Matt. His green eyes glittered fiercely, sending a feminine satisfaction thrilling through her. His mouth found the taunt peak of her breast. “Oh, Matt,” she cried. The wondrous feeling swelled, crested, burst into a thousand sensations. “Matt!”

  Even as she pulsed around him, he cried out, his own release throbbing inside her. He dropped his head to her shoulder, and kissed the hollow at the base of her throat.

  “When I recover sufficiently,” he muttered, “we’ll go to the bedroom.”

  “Hurry up and recover.”

  He nipped her collarbone, then turned, held her around his waist and walked to the bedroom.

  “You can let me go,” Natalie said.

  “No way. Never.” He sat down on the bed, still inside her. His grin was sexy and wicked. “Shall we begin again?”

  Natalie sprawled on top of him, her cheek pressed against his heart. He stroked her back, smiling as she wiggled against his fingers and demanded, “Scratch, please.”