Dead Vampires Don't Date

by Meredith Allen Conner

  My heart leapt on a quick surge of hope. We had to find Tommy. Ivan could question him. He'd get the right answers. And maybe I'd get a chance to keep living.

  Oh shit. Tommy. I looked at Morgan. It must have been in my eyes. She flicked a dismissive hand. Murderer or not, I winced on his behalf. It sucks the big one not to have your feelings returned.

  "That's not the worst of it." She continued. "Ivan showed up after we left that night asking questions." I clenched my fists. "About you, Kate. Just you."

  Spirits help me.

  "He stopped by Spike's last night, doing the same thing." I whispered.

  "We've got to find Tommy." I'm not sure which of us said it first. Tommy was all I had. We both knew it. Without him, I had nothing. No chance at all.

  ****

  Morgan hit the end button on her phone. "No go. Petey doesn't have a contact number and he can't locate anyone who might have one for Tommy." She looked at the wall clock. "It's still early for the scene to start up at The Whipping Post. If we wait a couple more hours, we might have some luck then."

  That would be a nice change. Luck had taken one look at the Prince and hightailed it out of my life. I'd be happy to throw the party of the century to welcome her back in.

  A couple more hours? Surely I could survive that long.

  Morgan's phone rang. "Yeah?" She frowned, half-turned away.

  My heart skipped a beat. I could do this.

  The glass rattled with the force of the knock.

  I leapt to my feet. Ash? He'd returned already? Morgan held up a finger for me to wait as she spoke to her caller. I ignored her.

  Why we were pretending that a lock might stop a vampire assassin, I didn't know. Well, for me and my ostrich bit, I understood. Morgan and Ash? Who knew?

  Plus, I'd added in my protection spells . . . Which I'd forgotten to reset after Morgan had arrived. Shit. Her "this is bad statement" had thrown me totally off.

  Besides a vampire assassin intent on murder would not bother to knock. I flung open the door. Bloody red eyes met mine.

  Damn. Shit. Fuck!

  "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

  The son of a bitch planned to taunt me before he killed me? I gritted my teeth, searched for a nasty retort. I couldn't find one. Icy dread swallowed me whole. The only thing holding me up was my grip on the doorknob. My hand shook.

  Ivan strolled through the door, his long, black coat fluttered behind him. I turned my head to follow him, the rest of my body refused to cooperate. And I couldn't seem to let go of the handle.

  "I've been asking a few questions." He stopped, center of the room, turned towards me. It could have been my imagination, but his sword hilt appeared much bigger. The reflection of the light on it mesmerized me.

  "It appears as though you've been asking questions too." He crossed his arms. "Laying the groundwork for your cover-up story?"

  "What?" The question eked out, the barest whisper.

  He drummed his fingers once over leather covered arms. I flinched. "I asked if you have been laying the groundwork down as part of your cover story for the Prince's murder?" He clicked a fang. "There is no point. You do not receive a trial for killing royalty. That is an instant death sentence."

  Damn him.

  "One that I enforce."

  Damn him to hell.

  I hadn't done anything. He didn't care. What were his words? He'd find his proof and then kill me. He'd be doing a service to the community.

  "You have to have proof first." Morgan leaned in the doorway, pale shoulder casually propped on the frame. Several long curls had escaped her twist and cascaded lazily around her face and over her shoulders.

  Ivan didn't bother to turn towards her. He had to have known she was here. "Morgan. I am not surprised to find you here." He smiled at me as he said, "Just a matter of time."

  "Do you really believe that Kate could have killed Prince Xavier?" Morgan raised one hand to check on her manicure. She buffed one nail. "A mortal taking down an immortal?" She didn't look in my direction.

  I squeezed the doorknob so tightly it squeaked.

  Ivan curled his lip. "She's a half-breed." He flicked a dismissive hand. "Part witch. She could have drugged him."

  Immortal witches are not highly thought of in the HC-community. They're considered very useful at times, but not highly regarded. Even if I were immortal, I'd still be bottom of the rung. "A half-breed has no morals."

  Morgan slowly straightened in the door. "Kate is my friend."

  Ivan spun on one heel, turning his back on me completely. He didn't consider either one of us a threat. Utter disdain dripped from his every word. "I am aware of that. There are a large number of immortals living in this area and yet you choose to consort with a half-breed."

  Morgan shoved her shoulders back. A slight breeze ruffled her hair. "I pick my friends carefully."

  Spirits, I loved that vamp.

  "Wrongly, you mean."

  Electricity sparked in the air. Morgan's loose curls rose up in an ever-widening circle around her. "I said carefully."

  "A vampire befriending and defending," Ivan let the last word roll slowly off his tongue, a mix of total disbelief and disgust, "A half-breed against charges of murder toward her own kind?"

  I dropped my grip on the doorknob. I took a deliberate step forward. "Your beef is with me Ivan, not Morgan. She has nothing to do with this." Nausea lurched alarmingly in the pit of my stomach.

  "Au contraire." Ivan spoke over his shoulder. "Your little vampire friend could have easily helped you kill the prince."

  Ivan planned to kill me. He was just biding his time, gathering his "proof." No way would I allow him to destroy Morgan. I'd sign a full confession before I let him bring her down with me.

  "Morgan has done nothing wrong." I took another step forward.

  "But you have?" Ivan twisted, so he had both of us in his sight. His eyes glittered.

  "Kate hasn't done anything except her job. You should be looking at someone in the immortal community and you know it." Morgan exploded. "The prince planned to out us. No one in the immortal community wants that."

  "I have only her words as proof to that." Ivan shook his head slowly. "The words of a half-breed."

  My nails bit into my palms. He just had to keep flinging that at me, didn't he? Right in my face, over and over and over again as if I had not heard it enough.

  Ivan turned his head toward Morgan. "You should consider that Morgan." He held up his hand, wagged one white finger at her. "You will not receive any leniency, no matter your background. Once I have my proof, I can bring charges against you as well. No one will gainsay me. Consider this."

  Morgan had helped me bury the body. I hadn't killed the prince, but she'd helped me get rid of the body. If Ivan somehow found that out . . . Oh hell.

  What did he mean "her" background?

  I blinked and Ivan's hand encircled my neck. His hard, narrow fingers tightened along my tendons. His palm pressed hard against my throat, pushing on my esophagus, cutting off my air.

  "Did you really think that you would be able to live your life? A half-breed?" His cold lips brushed my ear as he spoke, a barely audible sound, a knife into my gut. "I could crush you right now." He squeezed. I gasped, the last bit of breath left my lungs. "You can't defend yourself against me. Against the smallest of attacks without help."

  "Stop!"

  Ivan released me. My knees buckled. I thrust my hands forward and caught myself just before I slammed face first into the floor. Black dots swirled in front of me. The room tilted and whirled.

  "You don't have any proof."

  Ivan set his foot against my leg. "I found blood in the alley. Right outside her backdoor." He pressed the tip of his boot into my thigh. "I'll have the body soon." He shoved. I flew several feet before I crashed onto my side, gasping for air. "Then I'll have my proof."

  His boots left my field of vision and my severely bruised thigh. Thank the Spirits.

  The doo
r shut.

  Check the door. Always check to see who is at the door first. I'd remember that for the rest of my life, however long or short that turned out to be.

  Hands gripped my shoulders and dragged me upright. "Kate? Are you all right?" Morgan shook me.

  "Not helping." I wobbled back and forth like a rag doll. "Still can't breathe." Actually, I could breathe. I sucked air in and out of my lungs, heaving as if a giant wave had caught me by surprise. It was a reflexive response on my part to being nearly choked to death.

  I regretted saying it the moment my head hit the floor. Morgan dropped me on the back wobble. I went down in a boneless heap.

  "Shit." She crouched next to me. "Kate?"

  "I'm fine," I lied. "Just give me a minute." I sucked air. My head throbbed. I tried really hard not to cry.

  Gradually, my breathing returned to a near normal level. My head hurt like a new division of Hell had been created and taken up residence inside my skull. My thigh throbbed.

  And I still wanted to cry.

  That vampire scared the shit out of me and now I knew my stupidity was going to get Morgan killed right along with me.

  "You've got to leave."

  "Why?" Morgan lifted my legs about a foot into the air. It almost made me smile. She loved to watch crime shows on TV. Unfortunately, that's also where she got all of her mortal first aid knowledge. Most of the people on those shows were already dead.

  Just like we were going to be.

  "He's going to kill you too, Morgan." I whispered. My throat was too bruised to yell. "You should leave. Go far away from me and tell everyone I killed the prince."

  "No."

  The band across my chest eased. I didn't want to be noble. I didn't want to be alone. I also didn't want to be responsible for the death of my best friend. And I really didn't want to die either.

  "Morgan." I choked on her name.

  "We need to move the body."

  That struck me as a really stupid idea. I didn't want to go anywhere near that body. It had caused me way too much grief, not to mention the possibility of my own life.

  "I think we should leave the body where it is." I know death doesn't bother Morgan. She's a vamp. She sort of lives it every day.

  I'm a witch. It freaks me out. Especially the thought of my own impending death.

  "We've got bigger problems right now."

  I opened my eyes. Morgan sat cross-legged next to my hip. She held both of my legs up with one hand, arm bent at a right angle. She tapped her other fist restlessly on her knee.

  As long as Ivan didn't find the body, no matter how much he threatened and terrified me, he didn't have any proof. That ice might be thin enough I could count the minnows waiting to nibble on me, but it still held. I couldn't see the problem.

  Keep the body buried and find Tommy. Worked for me.

  "Remember that presence I felt the night we buried the body?"

  A witness? That could cause all sorts of problems.

  "It was Ivan."

  I couldn't think. For one lovely moment, my mind went completely blank. No fear. No worries. Just blissful emptiness.

  Then the panic set in.

  That son of a bitch. I'd never stood chance.

  24. I've Got To Get Rid Of The Body.

  "Ivan?" I simply had to repeat it.

  I knew I heard her just fine. If Morgan said Ivan's name, she meant him. She hadn't met him before now. He had been the presence that night. I understood this. Sort of. A portion of my brain did at any rate. It even marveled at his cunning. The fuck-head assassin vampire knew all along that Morgan and I had buried the body of the prince in the woods. He knew it to be a fact. Everything else had been a bonus for him. His questions, threats, bullying and torment - it had all been part of a game for him.

  He'd played me like a well-tuned harp from the start. A sick Machiavellian torture for the half-breed. I imagined him laughing - laughing - right now while I lay on the floor of my own office, throat nearly crushed, struggling to breathe.

  Part of my brain did understand this. A small part. Most of it simply screamed. Loudly. Furiously. Murderously.

  "Ivan." Morgan nodded once.

  For a few minutes we didn't say anything. I knew whatever I said would come out wrong, probably incoherent and loaded with a multitude of ways to make certain I stayed in trouble and on the verge of death. I had absolutely no issues with murder, blood or decapitation at the moment.

  I didn't know what Morgan thought. I hoped it was along my own thought patterns.

  "How?" I croaked. I coughed, wheezed and choked a little more. As soon as I had the breath for it, I'd heal my throat. Then I planned to scream until I had to heal myself all over again.

  That son of a bitch.

  "What?" Morgan asked, distracted. She raised my legs and lowered them incrementally as if lifting weights. Her white bicep flexed slowly, her mind focused elsewhere.

  I rolled my hips and tried to maintain my balance. I made a small effort to gain her attention, but most of my focus remained on simply breathing and figuring out the answer to my question. I wanted to know how much pain I should inflict the moment I got my chance.

  My mother isn't the only one to relish - and coddle - a grudge.

  "How?" I asked in near silence. "How did Ivan know we were there?" It's a damn good thing Morgan has super senses. I lapsed back into a fit of coughing.

  Morgan propped her elbow on her knee and cupped her chin. She continued to bench press my lower half absently. "He's a royal guard. He has been with the royal family since before they came to America." She tapped one long finger rhythmically against her cheek.

  "I figure the Queen sent him with Xavier when he started his tour. Xavier probably told Ivan to keep his distance. He was always a hothead." She narrowed her eyes. "Ivan would have scented the blood that night. He's old enough to pick up that scent from very far away and to know it was the Prince's blood."

  She paused, tilted her chin. "Vampires have very strict rules when it comes to murder. Especially the murder of one of our own. We like to make the execution of the killer very public and very painful."

  Oh joy. I'd heard rumors, but that's all they'd been. The killing of any immortal is always headline news in the HC. And it rarely happens. The murder of a vampire even less common. They take great pleasure in making certain the consequences are well known, a grotesque warning to anyone stupid enough to try it again.

  It's been hundreds and hundreds of years since the last vampire murder trial. Never known nor even whispered about by the humans, the HC rarely speak of it.

  Supposedly the Queen has a fingernail that rests inside one of the lockets she wears. A fingernail. That's all there is left.

  Bile surged to my throat.

  "Ivan knew we buried the body and where, but he didn't have any proof. He'd need that." Morgan's eyes popped wide, large emerald circles stark against the white of her skin. "But only for so long."

  "What?"

  "I can't believe I forgot that." She smacked her palm against her forehead. "It's been so long and . . ."

  "Morgan!" Pure dread fought with nausea, tightening the muscles in my throat, completely destroying the progress I'd made so far.

  She met my eyes straight on. "Kate, if a vampire is killed, we only wait so long before seeking justice for that murder. We've survived this long on fear. We can't afford to let that slip." My lungs quit functioning. "The killer has to be exposed and made an example of. Actual proof isn't needed if it can't be found. The example is the important thing."

  "If we can't locate Tommy . . ." She didn't need to draw me a picture.

  I shoved frantically to my feet. I made it to the toilet just in time. My bruised throat protested the additional trauma. I gagged and choked, struggling to heave the contents of my stomach into the toilet and not drown in it. I vomited until I had nothing left.

  At last I lay on my side, shuddering on the cold floor.

  "Kate?" Morgan sat cross-legged in
the doorway. "We made it worse by asking questions." She stared over my head at nothing as she spoke. "Now people know the prince is missing and that we are somehow involved."

  She looked at me, the horror of the moment, the vast distance of time, locked together. "How could I have forgotten? How did this happen?"

  I knew she didn't mean this moment, this total train wreck we were on. She meant the encroachment of time, the passing of memories, the smugness of immortality that creeps over the HC and blankets their view, their perspective. Their knowledge of what is and what isn't.

  "How did this happen?" She repeated.

  I didn't know what to say.

  ****

  "Quit blaming yourself." We'd re-hashed and talked and beaten ourselves up long enough. I knew by the dim green of her eyes, Morgan had no plans to stop obsessing.

  I understood.

  However, my brain had decided to take the blank way out. Shockingly, not my typical ostrich approach either. I was overwhelmed. Utterly overwhelmed.

  A sort of peace had descended over me. I'm quite sure it's the same calm Marie Antoinette felt moments before the blade slid down. There is nothing I can do about this.

  I wasn't giving up, far from it. But I couldn't keep on top of that Titanic. My brain had simply booted that giant boat and enormous iceberg into a cage and shut the door. I could see through the bars, but I had some perspective.

  We needed to focus on the here and now. Nothing else mattered.

  A little part of my brain said it was survival instinct. I wanted to cheer. At least some part of my brain still believed I'd live.

  Yay me.

  "You're right. We should move the body." There are just certain things you never want to hear yourself say.

  "I don't know." Morgan shook her head. I'd never seen her at such a loss. I didn't ever want to again.

  "You can sense him, right?" I hated to do it, push her. She's my UDBF and I'm not used to seeing her vulnerable, but we had to do something. I'd reached my limit with fuck-head Ivan. There was no way in Hell - any realm - that I planned to let that bastard win.

  "Yes," Morgan said quietly. "I can sense him."