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Better Off Undead

Page 11

by D. R. Perry


  We sat, looking up at a yacht. It wasn’t too big as far as luxurious boats went. Actually, I didn’t know diddly squat about that. I just knew the boat was not much more than twice as big as the one we rode in, but looked ten times more luxurious. That was a feat and a half, considering the Harcourts were billionaire dragons.

  “How do we get on?” I looked around for a rope or a ladder, but there wasn’t one.

  “We stop thinking like humans and do this.” I felt a shift in equilibrium as Jack leaped straight up, landing on the other deck.

  “Showoff,” I mumbled, then imitated him.

  Jack caught me before I vaulted over the big, glass-encased area behind him. I hadn’t realized that leaping up from a boat on the water would be so springy. I grinned at my old teacher. Actually, it was more like a wince. He just shook his head and pointed. I turned and saw Daryl had followed us. The Spite led the way, pacing toward a door. We followed.

  When we pulled it open, we saw steps. Jack cocked his head, listening. I heard nothing, but he nodded, so I figured he must have enhanced his hearing a little. I hadn’t, because I wanted to save all my energy for the inevitable fight or flight from the two Gatto goons I expected.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I froze. Jack did no such thing, of course. The man in yellow who stood behind the ladies bound in back-to-back chairs was nothing to him. The figure looked dandified, not intimidating to a stranger like Jack, but I knew this asshole. I had been burned by him before. Literally. And that was no shifter.

  “Richard Hopewell.” I smiled, baring my fangs. “I’ve heard so many sucky things about you, it feels as if I know you.”

  “And you are?” The middle-aged Extramagus looked down his nose at me, tilting the brim of his round hat up slightly.

  “Hi, I’m Lane Meyer.” I rummaged in Margot’s bag again, hoping to find her friend the imp’s anchor. We could have used a miracle right then. I kept up the hopefully distracting chatter but found nothing. “No one ever formally introduced us, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about formalities. I’m a punk, and proud of it.”

  “Lane—” Jack tugged my sleeve, stopping my angry forward trajectory. I glanced at him, then followed his gaze.

  My shin had almost made contact with a trip-wire. I narrowed my eyes and stepped over it. Jack and Daryl followed, the latter directing a faint whine in Margot’s direction. She looked at me, puzzled. I wondered why.

  “So, the punk rocker’s been hiding his real talent.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I realized it was redundant. I blinked. Sure, I’d used Margot’s anchors, but those were only supposed to work for Summoners. They weren’t like the one-time-use Psychic papers she’d given Fred in the Under. I had been the one summoning Daryl and then Nixie. I wasn’t just a regular vampire, after all. I'd had a Psychic ability all along, one of the hardest to master, and most often overlooked. Most people didn’t encounter pure faerie creatures for long enough to discover a bond with them. I’d been most people before getting turned.

  “Ah, I see. You didn’t even know it yourself until tonight. Such a shame you bloomed so late.” Richard grinned. “But the jazzman is still just as mundane as ever.”

  “I don’t care what kind of catty comments you fire at us, pal.” Jack cracked his knuckles and bared his fangs. “Give Della back and I won’t drain you dry.”

  “Um, Jack?” It was my turn to elbow him. “He’s an Extramagus. Got literal fire, and who knows what else.”

  “Oh.” Jack cleared his throat. “Still. Let those ladies go, and we won’t have any trouble.”

  “Let them go?” Richard raised an eyebrow. “I can’t do a thing like that. One’s an unregistered vampire, and the other’s got illegal magic perfume on her. I’ve made a citizen’s arrest because unlike you, I’m an upstanding member of society.”

  “No, you’re not.” I stood up straight, finding I had about a half-inch on Jack. “I know what you did last semester.”

  “Personally, I did nothing but mind my own business.” Richard’s smile looked soft, like velvet covering a set of brass knuckles.

  “If that’s not a loaded statement, I don’t know what is.” Della’s voice made me blink. Even though her words dripping venom, her face was as placid as a pond. “You’re the one who sold me the magic perfume you planted on Margot, and I’ll tell anyone who’ll listen.”

  “And there’s your problem.” Richard’s smile had my temper feeling like a nuclear device. “No one will listen, not to an unregistered vampire.”

  “That doesn’t matter.” Jack scoffed. “They’ll listen to me.” He grinned at me. “To us.”

  “They can’t listen to ashes.” Richard’s words and worse, his sunny smile, had me dashing to the girls in the chairs. "It's such a shame these talented fellows resisted my citizen's arrest."

  “No!” I stepped between them and Richard. Jack followed suit without even knowing what was coming. I souped myself up with the energy from the bagged blood back at the hotel, then I picked up both chairs and hurled them toward the only cover, a bar in a corner behind me.

  Jack looked confused, but he enhanced himself similarly and headed over, dragging the ladies the rest of the way behind the solid-wood structure. I could only hope the bar would cast enough of a shadow to protect them. I made a break for it, but Richard caught me by the collar.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” The man in yellow grinned, reminding me of the time I’d come across a skull on the beach on Cape Cod after the Boston Internment. “Well, perhaps you’ll go in a pretty urn on my mantle. Then again, perhaps not. I never liked you punks and your music.”

  “Hit me with your best shot, bastard,” I spat, gnashing my teeth and swinging my fists the way Jack was swinging at the wall behind the bar if the sound of splintering wood was any indication. My fists couldn’t reach Richard, though. He had me in a vise-grip, and some kind of magic shield protected the rest of his body from me. I reached up, making one last-ditch effort to remove the hand he had wound in my hair. No use. I was stuck. Only one kind of faerie or changeling could use glamour as a force-field, and Richard was it.

  I wished I could at least get a message to Tinfoil Hat and tell them what I’d discovered. Richard was definitely a changeling, as they’d thought, but I knew now that he was a Sidhe. I had no idea how that information would help them, but they’d be able to do something with it. At that moment, all I could think of was that this was it.

  And that was okay with me. I’d given probably the best stage performance I’d ever have in me. I’d saved three people I cared about, and I’d done the right thing by my family. I closed my eyes, feeling a strange yet welcome peace ripple from me, as though I was the stone dropped in the pond for once instead of the other way around. I knew that Richard killing me here in Narragansett Bay would leave blood on his hands, and I was high-profile enough for it to count. He wouldn’t get away with killing Lane freaking Meyer, or not without consequences, anyway.

  But I’d forgotten someone. Maybe it was because they were quadrupedal and fierce, but before that night, I’d always thought of Spites as the intellectual equals of dogs. Daryl was sentient, though. They were probably more intelligent than me, and when a pure faerie inserted themself into any equation, imbalance resulted.

  In case you don’t know, Spites eat magic. When Rick the Dick fired his hands up with his Spectral magic, Daryl ate the spell like a mundane hound snatches food from a kid’s hands. When the Extramagus cranked up the power, determined to give me a sunburn, the Spite just opened their mouth and drank it down. All I got was singed.

  Richard dropped me, extending both hands to go to town on poor Daryl. I couldn’t imagine what kind of magic he’d use, though. The only counter to a Spite was something Seelie, helped along with a little Luck. Or a Null Magus. I remember putting out the last of the smoldering around my neck, thinking about how coursework at PPC had taught me more than I thought I knew.
r />   “Lane! Daryl!” I turned my head to see Margot vaulting over the bar, holding something that looked like a bamboo spear. My conversation with Rick had given Jack enough time to free the ladies, as well as start knocking a hole in the wall. Margot had armed herself with another of her friends, a brownie wearing a pointy bronze helmet. It crackled with what I assumed was rage and then she let it fly, its business end aimed at the attacking Extramagus’ head.

  Then everything slowed down. It was like when a movie shows some ultra-fast superhero, except it was a big, powerful faerie instead of Quicksilver or the Flash.

  “Cease this nonsense.” The Sidhe Queen flicked a pinkie in Rick’s general direction. The brownie clattered to the floor, and Daryl sat like a good doggie.

  “Y-your Majesty.” Margot curtsied so deep, I was afraid she’d get swept away in the undertow. She held that pose for the entire conversation, too. Her thighs had to be more incredible than the Hulk’s.

  “Majesty.” Richard bowed, whisking his hat off his head with a flourish.

  “Miss Malone.” The queen stared at Margot. “Your contract with this Spite is dissolved. You may enter my demesne to find another after three nights’ time.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I wondered why she was thanking the queen instead of arguing for her companion, but then she spoke again. “I invoke my right to knowledge, as my contract permits. What will become of this Spite?”

  “It’s being called into service by my newest knight.” The queen snapped her fingers and Daryl stepped to her side, heeling better than an American Kennel Club champion. I blinked back tears of relief because I knew the queen’s newest knight—Fred. Daryl would be in good hands. Margot murmured a second thanks, then some other words which sent the brownie away. That was good since Brownies and water didn’t mix.

  “Um, excuse me, Your Majesty.” I waited for the queen to acknowledge me. “How did you know to come here just in time?” The Sidhe monarch glanced down and waited.

  “That was me, Lane.” A tiny and familiar voice came from somewhere near the queen’s feet.

  “Nixie?”

  “Yeah, I knew her Glorious Majesty wanted to call Daryl back, so I told her where they were.” The Pixie didn’t say any more, but they didn’t have to. I understood. They knew Rick was on the boat the whole time and waited for the right moment to call in a rescue. There was no way the queen didn’t have some idea, either.

  “The Spite isn’t the only creature I require from this boat.” The queen turned her head, gazing at Richard. “You will return to my throne room in two minutes precisely. Finish your business here in that time if you can. I do not tolerate tardiness in a prospective consort, regardless of his personal circumstances.”

  With those words, the queen, Daryl, and Nixie vanished.

  The four of us vampires were alone with an Extramagus wielding Spectral magic and God only knew what else who had one minute to kill us. There was only one thing to do about that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kiss Me Undeadly

  “Jump ship!” I dashed behind the bar, calling all my strength to finish busting open the wall behind it. Shards of glass pinged and clanged to the floor. Margot dove out the window, her yellow dress snagging and bringing the rest of the glass into the brine with her.

  “Go!” I elbowed Della, hollering in her ear. She didn’t budge, just held onto something on the floor. I looked down and understood the problem immediately. “Follow Margot. I’ve got Jack.”

  Della’s sob lingered on the ocean breeze as she jumped. I dragged at Jack’s arm, maintaining the extra strength, and pulled him up to the window, thinking he was unconscious. He wasn’t.

  “Leave me.” He turned his head to look at Richard. No, that wasn’t right. Jack was looking away from what frightened him, not toward.

  “Look, the ocean’s scary, but I’m sure it doesn’t want you today.” I pulled him again, harder this time. “Della’s out there. Isn’t she your destiny or something?”

  Jack said nothing, just jerked his chin down once and dove out the window after the others. And there I was, alone again with Tricky Rick and all his magic, except he was just standing there smirking. I made like a tree and got out of there.

  “Come on in, Lane, the water’s fine!” My sarcasm got whipped away by the balmy sea breeze, but even summer didn’t make the Bay warm. It was like jumping into a pitcher of ice water, except with the stickiness only saltwater had. My head surfaced, and I spluttered around a mouthful of seaweed. “Eww.”

  I saw The Dragon Man, with all three of my waterlogged allies on board. While flailing my arms, one hand bumped something solid. I grabbed it, realizing it was the side of Blaine’s boat. I looked up, and let go almost immediately after.

  “Die, already!” Rick stood on The Dragon Lady’s deck and blasted the smaller watercraft with a fireball from the yacht’s deck. I heard three splashes, which meant my friends were okay.

  Instinct kicked in and I tried to swim away, but the tenacious current wouldn’t let me. I floundered, feeling more like a piece of driftwood than a living, thinking person. Rick blasted out three more fireballs over my head, and I craned my neck. The boat looked like a brazier at WaterFire instead of a dinghy or whatever it had been. Bits of it fell, splashing into the drink. I glared back up at Richard, taking a deep breath to sling the worst cuss words I could think of at him because I had nothing else left.

  It was almost as though the Extramagus couldn’t see me. He peered across the water, his hand surrounded by fire phasing through red, orange, yellow, and blue. Something grabbed me by the back of my neck. It was warm, five-fingered, and tipped with claws. I struggled, trying to break free.

  “Chill out, Lane.” I recognized that voice—Matt. I stilled long enough for what or whoever was attached to that hand to haul me on board. “When the Spite poofed out of the police station, they knew there was trouble.”

  Everyone was there. Well, not exactly. But Dave, Pete, and Matt stood on the deck of a tugboat. Jack and Della huddled under sodden towels. Margot rushed to my side and wrapped a threadbare beach towel around my shoulders. Blaine leaned against a stack of crates, flanked by Bianca and Detective Klein. Kimiko and Olivia hunkered down, peering at the tablet running LORA.

  “Once we realized the Gattos weren’t the real problem, we came to help.” Kimiko looked up, jerking her chin at whoever was behind me. I turned to have a look, my eyes finding a statuesque woman who even more physically intimidating than Nox Phillips. Her ruddy hair was spiky and wild, more like a mane or ruff. Tiny tusks poked from her lower lips like reverse and more visible fangs. Her hands had claws instead of fingernails. All the same, they were painted neon pink. Troll ladies still wanted to feel girly. Who knew?

  “You know a troll, Kim?” I blinked at the faerie in question, waiting for an introduction or something.

  “Sure do!” Kimiko sounded like having a troll for a friend was the highlight of her night, but she gave me an excellent reason a moment later. “Gemma saved Blaine and me during Spring Break.”

  “Well, I guess we all owe you one, Gemma. It’s good to meet you.” I hugged Margot close. After a moment of stiff surprise on her part, she hugged me back. I almost melted, but curiosity kept me together. “I have to ask; how come Rick the Dick can’t see us?”

  “That’s a funny story, actually.” The troll smirked. “This is my grandpa’s boat. He’s got it glamoured like woah. Your dragon friend here figured the bad guy wouldn’t want to use any glamour-penetrating faerie magic this close to tithing. And also, we had a little extra help beefing up our invisibility from Detective Klein.”

  “Detective Weaver’s the one you should thank.” Klein put his hands on his hips. “She’s been working on a spider-shifter-silk device with your Headmistress ever since those vampire murders back in the winter. Even if he’d used faerie magic to see through the glamour, it wouldn’t have worked.”

  “Well, thank her for me, then.” I smiled at Detective Kle
in. He smiled back and gave me a thumbs-up.

  “And what about the Gatto debt?”

  “Oh, I paid that.” Blaine waved his hand.

  “Thought you were tapped out?” I raised an eyebrow, suddenly as skeptical about the dragon shifter as he usually was about Tony.

  “Yeah, I am when it comes to five-hundred large in bail money.” Blaine blew out a smoke ring. “But all they wanted was two grand. That’s like two dollars for me.”

  Everyone else laughed, but I waited, watching as Richard used up the tail end of the queen’s two minutes. When his time ended, a glowing portal opened to his left. I heard his teeth grinding in frustration as he stepped through. A breath I’d forgotten about holding let itself out of my lungs as I faced the rest of Night Creatures. I scanned Matt longer than the others. His clothes were all torn up again. No one else’s were.

  “Matt, I know we’ve been arguing lately, and I don’t want to start again.” I looked Matt right in the eye. It was finally time; I couldn’t wait anymore. “I have to know why you’re always getting in fights and turning up with your clothes destroyed. You’ve been hiding something so hard, you got yourself arrested. What gives?”

  “Man, this is more the kind of conversation people have in private.” Matt looked down at his feet. Even his stompy boots were messed up, their soles held together with duct tape.

  “I think it’s going to come out anyway.” Margot untangled herself from my arms and sat up. “I wouldn’t go there in any of my pieces, but I’ve noticed what’s been going on with you. I also saw some, um, less reputable reporters catch you in the act.”

  “Well, I guess you all better hear it from me first.” Matt’s head hung lower than I thought possible. “I hit on the wrong people. I’m a wreck because I keep getting into fights when I try flirting with anyone. You guys can replace me if you want to.”

 

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