Dead Girls Don't Cry

by Casey Wyatt

  The shiny bangle warmed. It looked harmless enough. Without thinking, I tapped the metal.

  Red runes blazed across the smooth surface. The room vanished.

  I’m alone on a desolate, rocky plain. The sky is hazy blue. The earth at my feet is red. The temperature is cold, bracing.

  Where is everyone?

  What’s wrong with the air?

  Fear hammers at me. I don’t like this place. I want my family.

  I want—

  “Wake up!” A sting bit into my cheek. The barren world in my vision jerked back and forth. No. Wait. Someone shook me harder. I’d know the grip anywhere.

  “Jonathan. I’m okay.” When I peeled my eyes open, my sire’s worried frown greeted me.

  “You were gone.”

  “What do you mean?” I fidgeted in my seat, twisting my kinked neck side to side.

  “Your mind. I felt it leave through the blood bond,” said Jonathan, his voice trailing off. “That only happens in . . . true death.”

  The leader of every family could sense the whereabouts of his or her members. Not exactly GPS— he or she wouldn’t be able to track a vampire down to a specific location with a single thought — but more like a general directional impression. Because Jonathan was also my sire, in theory, the bond was even more precise. In close proximity, he could sense my mental state too.

  “I died?” Wherever I had gone, it hadn’t felt like death. At least I hoped not, because that deserted place flat out sucked. No wonder I had felt alone. I really had been. I didn’t like the sensation one bit. My undead family was the only kin I had left. We may have been a weird bunch, but I would take them any day over loneliness.

  “Not exactly.” Jonathan smoothed his hands down my arms. He paused when his fingers reached the cuff. Under his touch, it remained inert. No runes, no light, only gold jewelry.

  “What is this thing?” I grumbled. It had been a terrible night. I wanted to go home, bury my head under the covers and hope tomorrow was better.

  “An object of great power.” He frowned, rubbing his chin. “The queen had a reason for everything she did.”

  I recounted my meeting with Thalia. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the mere thought of her bitchy anger. “She’ll be back won’t she?”

  Jonathan growled. “That bitch.” His protective energy radiated outward, enticing me. All I had to do was embrace the comfort my sire could provide. I shrugged it off.

  “Do you think Victoria knew,” the words caught on my tongue, brain flashing on the carnage outside the club, “that she was going to die?”

  “Possibly,” Jonathan said. “Now go home. Stay there until I call you back. I don’t want you here when the shit hits the fan.”

  I bristled. “Why? It’s not our fault the queen died outside the club.”

  Jonathan gave me a long, hard stare. Like I was a moron. “Rumors are already flying. One report is that she was killed by a rocket grenade launched off my building’s roof.”

  “Well, fuck a duck,” I blurted out. “Thalia’s declared herself the new queen. She’ll be gunning for us.” And the bracelet. And my little dog too. Good thing I didn’t have one.

  Jonathan nodded, grimly. “You can say that again.”

  I did. Twice more.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I wish I could say I woke up the next day with a brighter view of life. Surely cooler heads would prevail. There was no way Thalia could pin this on my family. Queen V’s visit had been a total surprise to us. I puzzled over the situation in the shower until the hot water ran out. After five minutes of cold water, I gave up, toweled off and headed to my bedroom.

  “God damn it,” Jay swore at his laptop screen. “This is horseshit.”

  “Did you get an F on a paper?” Nothing irked Jay like bad grades. He was a total overachiever.

  Jay ignored me and angrily pressed the TV remote’s ‘on’ button. The screen popped onto the Vampire Channel. We have one. Sorry, no humans allowed. A sour-faced reporter stood in front of Fang Bang.

  “. . . investigators are currently following leads. The entire vampire community mourns the loss of our beloved Queen Victoria. Emissaries from the revenant and zombie courts have sent their condolences and assurances of aid.”

  The reporter abruptly stopped and listened, finger pressed to her earpiece. “Wait! We have an update on the culprits. The pictures will be coming in a moment folks.”

  Jay sucked in a deep breath, his worried gaze fixed on my face.

  “The first suspect is a rogue vampire. Ian McDevitt.” A grainy picture of Ian displayed on screen.

  “Holy shit.” My head reeled. I knew I should have left him in the alley.

  Jay grasped my hand. “Please let me be wrong,” he muttered.

  “The other suspect, believed to be his accomplice, is popular night club performer Cherry Cordial.”

  My picture popped up next to Ian’s. A big wanted sign displayed underneath both our images. I reeled from the force of shock.

  “Any citizens who see these two are commanded by the queen to turn them in. Preferably alive for questioning.”

  My ears stopped listening. My legs went rubber and I stumbled back into the couch.

  “I had nothing to do with this.” My words were hoarse. Strangled.

  Jay slumped beside me, gripping my hand. “I know, baby.” He hopped off the couch. “We need to get the hell out of here. Pack a bag.”

  When I failed to move, he grabbed my shoulders and yanked me upright. “Go Cherry!”

  The cobwebs cleared and fear drove me. I grabbed my few precious keepsakes first. Family photos, a small jewelry box filled with letters, trinkets and other sundries. The lace curtains. Clothes went in next. Jay dumped toiletries in the bag, then shoved my jeans at me.

  “Dress, right now.” He already carried several overstuffed bags.

  My cell rang. Jay snatched it from my nightstand and repeated the command to dress. My hands were shaking so badly, it took me three tries to tie my sneakers. The new queen had declared me and Ian public enemies. We wouldn’t receive a fair trial or justice. We were dead meat.

  I looked up at Jay. Tears stung my eyes. By extension, his life was forfeit too. I stepped back, my calves pressing against the edge of the mattress. This can’t be happening to me again.

  Another day like this, so long ago, cued into my mind like a movie reel. I hadn’t known what was in store for me the day Jonathan ripped me away from my family, my familiar world. This time I had no illusions. I was on a one-way trip to permanent death.

  Jay snapped the cell phone shut. “Jonathan says under no circumstance are we to come to the club. He orders us to head to the safe house.”

  “They’re in trouble, aren’t they?” Because of me. Even though I had nothing to do with the queen’s assassination. Not directly anyway. But what if my actions in the alley allowed Ian to live? If he’d died, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

  Jay assessed me. He folded his arms across his muscled chest. “Jonathan was very specific in his orders, Cherry.”

  “I heard you the first time. I’m not running away. Not again.” I couldn’t leave another family behind to save my own skin. Never again.

  “What happened before wasn’t your fault,” Jay said. “I was there too. You made the best decision you could under the circumstances.”

  “Did I, Jay?” I wasn’t convinced. To this day, I wondered if I could have spared Jay and myself the heartbreak.

  “You did. You died so your family could live. Why do you continue to doubt your decision?” Jay shook his head at me. “Your logic makes no sense.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand. You didn’t see my mother’s face on her death bed. She called me the devil’s spawn and spit at me.” The fear in my mother’s eyes still haunted my dreams.

  “If I recall, you disobeyed Jonathan on that matter as well. He told you never to see them again.” Jay grabbed my bag off the bed. “How did you think she
would react? She saw her supposedly dead daughter, not aged a day, standing at the foot of her bed forty years later.”

  I stared at my sneakers. A tear dropped, elongating on the way to the floor before landing on my foot. “I wanted to say goodbye.” I sniffled, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

  With a sad shake of his head, Jay cupped my elbow. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  I let him lead me to his Jeep. While he loaded the bags, I darted to my car and drove off. Vampire speed had its advantages. I could see Jay scrambling to follow me.

  He needn’t have worried. We both knew exactly where I was headed.

  ~ * * * ~

  Contrary to what Jay might have thought, I had no intention of driving up to the club and striding in through the front door. I parked my car in a crowded Target parking lot and walked on foot for about ten blocks. Fifty years earlier, when Jonathan first bought Fang Bang’s building, he also purchased most of the real estate on the block and the next street over.

  Jonathan owned many of the buildings and businesses. The resulting profits benefited the family. But he had other reasons for owning the properties. The biggest: security. Jonathan thought long range. Like a chess master, he planned his ventures and prepared contingency plans.

  One of those security measures involved building a network of underground tunnels, off the human grid, of course. Jonathan showed me the entry points and made me memorize the layout. I hated every claustrophobic moment underground, but I did as ordered and learned.

  I moved down the crowded street, blending with the tourists until I came to a souvenir shop. I slipped inside, the cool air conditioning a sharp contrast to the dry heat outdoors.

  The store was filled, floor to ceiling, with every kind of Texas tourist crap imaginable. “Remember the Alamo” was emblazoned on about three-quarters of the items: plates, water globes, magnets, t-shirts. It didn’t matter that the Alamo was about forty-five minutes away in San Antonio. The owner milked every ounce of historical sentimentality he could. And no, I wasn’t alive back then. The Alamo happened before my time.

  “Afternoon,” Desmond Pike greeted me in a slow drawl from behind the counter. Eyes downcast, he was focused on arranging postcards in a rotating wire rack. When he looked up and saw it was me, his eyes brightened and he grinned. “Heya, Cherry.”

  “Hi Des. How are you today?” I gave him my sunniest smile and locked my gaze onto his. I hated to mesmerize him. He was a nice guy, but I didn’t have time to stand around chit-chatting. Power laced my voice. “Landlord asked me to check the fire extinguishers. Please unlock the storeroom door.”

  Desmond fished under the counter and stood up, keys in hand. “Of course. I’ll unlock the storeroom door for you.”

  The shop door chimes rattled.

  I stifled a groan. Bagged already. Jay joined me in the back room a moment later.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Don’t snip at me.” I turned to Des. “We weren’t here. Take this money,” I handed him a hundred dollars, “Resume what you were doing before we arrived.”

  As soon as Des left, I brushed past Jay and entered the storage room. “Jay, shut the door. Lock it from the inside.”

  He did as I asked, even though I knew he wanted to talk me out of entering the tunnels.

  I slid the wire shelves out of the way. I traced a seam in the wall, down to a small hole. After a moment’s probing, I located a mechanism and pulled the lever. A faint click sounded from the other side of the closet. A false wall cracked opened.

  I wrenched the door farther open. It was heavy, too heavy for anyone but a supernatural to open. Before we went inside, I had to clear the air with Jay. I didn’t know what would be waiting at the club. Jay and I might not get the time later to talk. “I know you think I’m crazy. But I have to go to Jonathan. He’d do the same for us.”

  Jay didn’t speak for a long moment. “I know, Cherry. I had time to think about this on the way over. Obviously this is a set-up. Part of a larger game. Thalia will want to assert her power and send a message. She will destroy us.”

  Glad we were on the same page, I gave Jay a hug. “We have to do what we can to survive.”

  He shrugged it off. I realized he had our two bags with him. “I’ve been following you since the day we met in Bombay.”

  Ah, yes. We had both been snooping around the same library at a cotillion we had been forced to attend by our families. He was searching for a book. And I was seeking a private place to smoke the cigarette I had stolen from my father’s desk earlier in the afternoon. We hit it off in about five minutes when we discovered we were both avoiding our mothers’ insidious attempts at matchmaking. Me, to a landed aristocrat and Jay to a high caste daughter of a local official.

  “Ready?” Jay clicked on a flashlight. I had pretty good night vision, but even I couldn’t see in total darkness.

  We passed through the narrow space into the tunnel beyond. Jay and I had to rearrange the bags so we could travel more quickly through the passages. I wedged the door shut, submerging us in total darkness.

  Jay followed my lead. The path was smooth, allowing us to move at a brisk pace.

  My throat seized up. Tremors shook my body. I didn’t mix well with enclosed spaces.

  You can do this. I squared my shoulders and counted backwards.

  It didn’t help for long.

  Panic chased me down the passage. Cotton seemed to clog my chest and nostrils. To compensate, my lungs sucked in deep breaths. I picked up the pace. Jay’s fingers dug into my collarbone.

  “Cherry. Stop it,” Jay commanded in a soft whisper. “You’re hyperventilating and you don’t even need to breathe. Relax. We’re almost there.”

  “Sorry,” I said, letting out the breath I had been holding down. Even though vampires don’t need air, we can still make our lungs work.

  The path ahead forked into two tunnels.

  “Which passage do we take now?” Jay asked. The flashlight’s beam danced between the two choices.

  “The left. It should lead to the wardrobe area.” I hoped.

  The tunnel hit a dead end. “We’re here,” I said. To reach the exit, we’d have to climb the rusty iron rungs lining the stone wall.

  Jay handed me the bags and insisted on exiting first, his argument being that he could blend in as one of the human lackeys in case Thalia’s goons were skulking about.

  He left me hanging on the rungs with nothing but time to contemplate the situation. Hell, who was I kidding? A situation implied a possible solution. This was a shit storm of epic proportion with no good end in sight and, somehow, I had landed in the middle of it. I must have bad karma.

  One thing was certain. I had to clear my name. My life and my family’s lives depended on it. Now I had to figure out what the hell was—

  Bright light beamed down on my face. Jay’s swarthy hand reached down. “It’s clear.”

  The wardrobe room was empty and the entire backstage area eerily quiet. Jonathan must have told everyone to stay away.

  I followed him through the makeup area, past the dressing rooms and into the props room. Aside from the auditorium and stage, the prop area was sizeable. Large enough to fit the whole family. Everyone, from the entertainers, musicians, bouncers, stagehands, even the administrative staff were huddled in clusters around the various stage decorations.

  Murmurs and whispered conversations stopped the moment I entered the room. Would they turn me out as a traitor? Did any of them believe I had killed the queen?

  A quick survey of the room told me nothing. Many of the faces were locked down, silent and appraising. One person in the room smiled at me, Pearl. I almost waved until I realized the greeting was directed at Jay and not me.

  Strong hands gripped my shoulders and spun me around. Jonathan pulled me into a tight hug then pushed me away to arm’s length. His expression, a strange combination of relief and frustration. “Cherry, I told you to stay home. Thank God you didn’t listen to me. Your house i
s gone. Exploded.”

  “Wha…at?” My house? My beloved cottage? I’m sure I resembled a fish out of water, my lips moving but no sound coming out of my mouth.

  Jonathan took me aside. He gave Jay a curt nod and my thrall left the room. “We’re in trouble. There’s more happening than the queen’s passing.”

  “You mean murder,” I corrected. Anger burned a hole in my gut. Those assholes blew up my house. Someone must have gotten a discount on rocket launchers.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with her death.”

  “I know, darling.”

  “Then why is this happening to me?” Right then, I wanted Jonathan to save me, like he did so long ago. With a small head shake, I chased the thought away as a fantasy. I had dragged everyone into this mess. Somehow, I had to get them out.

  “I don’t know,” Jonathan said. “Listen to me. The new queen has sequestered the entire family in this building until we deliver you.”

  The bitch.

  He put his fingers over my lips before I could interrupt. “Of course, I have no intention of handing you over. Innocent or not, no member of my family will be thrown to the wolves. I protect what’s mine.” The last bit came out as a growl. A red glow blazed in Jonathan’s eyes.

  “I can’t let you sacrifice everyone for me.”

  “I’m the sire. You’re not.”

  “What do you have planned?” I asked, staring out into the throng.

  Jonathan pulled a familiar red flyer out of his pocket and unfolded it for me to see. The Undead Space Initiative.

  “Oh hell no! You don’t believe that crap do you? Is it even real?”

  “Yes.” Jonathan tugged me close and put his mouth to my ear, ensuring our conversation remained private. “I need you to be strong because they’re afraid. You’re my chosen second.”

  I staggered back in disbelief. Since when?