And look what that training and nice new job had gotten her.
“Marty, I swear to Christ—I’m warning you. I—have—fangs. I haven’t been drinking. I haven’t done any drugs since I was sixteen, and I’m not on any antidepressants. Now quit friggin’ playing Oprah and listen. I’m a vampire.” She knew what was happening. She knew the paranormal existed because of Marty. If there were werewolves floating around the planet, why couldn’t there be vampires, too? If you had fangs, there wasn’t anything left to do but call vampire.
“A vampire,” Marty repeated, sounding vague and distant, and that sent Nina into an angry fit.
“You know what? How come you can be a werewolf, and I can’t be a vampire? What’s all the skepticism about? I hear it in your voice, Marty. What the fuck makes you so special?”
Marty clucked her tongue. “Oh, Nina, Nina, Nina. It’s not like we’re playing Barbies and you’re left with nothing but Barbie’s ratty sister Skipper. This isn’t a competition. I’m a werewolf because I was bitten by one. It was an accident. You were there, and it was anything but special—even if now I can’t imagine my life before it happened.” Her voice grew all breathy and dreamy. Marty and the delish man—werewolf—whatever—who’d bitten her had ended up together. Lifemates or some such crap. Now they were mating and making puppies—kids. Something like that.
Nina’s brow furrowed, while Marty droned on.
“So why don’t we talk about the real issue here? You’re jealous, because I have special powers and you don’t.”
Nina whipped the phone from her ear and covered it with her hands, jumping up and down to keep from throwing it. While her feet slapped against the cold, stained tile of her bathroom, every muscle in her body fought for restraint. Between clenched teeth she struggled to tamp down the rapid rise of her fury. Placing the phone back to her ear, she spat, “Marty, I never played with Barbies. In fact, I fucking hate Barbie. I always liked GI Joe, personally. At least he didn’t have those fake pointed toes—”
“But Barbie had all those glorious clothes and the dream house. Remember the Corvette?”
“I remember, but GI Joe had guns and tanks that could run Barbie’s stupid Corvette off the road, hurl a grenade at it, and leave her fancy sports car in a fiery blaze of steaming shit.”
“But Barbie had all that long hair and shoes for miles. God, I loved that—”
“Marty!”
“What? Jesus. Quit yelling in my ear. It’s sensitive, remember?”
“Could we get to the problem at hand and let the Barbie analogy go?”
“Right. You’re jealous because I have superpowers. Because I can shift and like lift a freight train. It doesn’t make you any less important, Nina—”
Nina groaned. “I am not jealous, Marty. Who could possibly be jealous over the fact that you’re a dog? Listen to me. I’m telling you the truth. I have fangs, and if Mrs. Fedderman’s pooch, Freddy, doesn’t stop parading around that kitchen of hers like he’s a corn dog on a stick, I swear I’m going to go over there and bite his little legs off, fry ’em up, and dip ’em in barbecue sauce like little fucking chicken wings!”
Nina heard Marty’s distinct gulp.
Ah, now we had the color princess’s attention.
“Okay, no biting Freddy. He didn’t do anything to you. Do you hear me, Nina? Don’t move a muscle. Stay right there. I’ll come right away. And for God’s sake, move Larry out of your line of vision.”
Larry was her pet guinea pig, and, yeah, it would probably be a good thing to avoid, at all costs, watching his wee guinea legs work that exercise wheel…
“Nina. Listen to me. Call Wanda for now. She’s closer. She’ll stay with you until I can get Keegan to find me someone to fly his plane to Jersey. And for God’s sake do not tell anyone else about this. You can’t trust anyone, Nina. Not a soul but me and Wanda. If this got out—well, I don’t know what would happen if it got out, but I know it would be detrimental. That’s all I know. If this werewolf thing has taught me anything, it’s to keep my mouth shut and blend. The fewer people who know, the better. Now do what I said and wait for Wanda.”
“What the hell is Wanda going to do for me? Find me a shade of Bobbie-Sue lipstick to help downplay my fangs?”
Marty scoffed. “To support you, you pain in the ass. Why must you always be so difficult? It’s a wonder we’ve stayed friends with you. You’re always so combative. Just once, shut up, stay in your apartment like a good girl, and wait for Wanda. And if I find out you left and didn’t listen to me, I will kick your ass. Make no mistake. I’m not the Marty of a year ago. I can and will take you,” she finished with a deadly calm that let Nina know she meant what she said.
She was well aware of Marty’s strength now that she was lycanthropic, but the hell if she’d admit it. “The hell you can. I was raised in the Bronx. I’ll wipe the floors of Lord and Taylor with your ass.”
“Nina,” Marty said with that warning tone Nina was sure was accompanied by the narrowing of her pretty blue eyes. “Do not do battle with me tonight. I can’t tell you how important it really is to shut your mouth. I’ve lived with this werewolf secret for a while now, and it isn’t like coming out of the closet or something. There are lots of people who’d far rather stake you through your cold, black heart. Oh…wait…if all that legend stuff is true about vampires and you really are one, you don’t have one of those anymore, do you?”
Nina’s hand immediately flew to her chest, pressing against the thin T-shirt she had on. Hellafino…nothing. No heartbeat.
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t like you used that muscle much anyway,” she said, laughing at her own cleverness.
“Marty!”
“What?”
“I have no heartbeat. Nothing. No pulse. Not even a twitch.” Blessed hell, what else didn’t vampires have? She sank to the floor, curling up against the cool porcelain bathtub, while fleeting memories of an Ann Rice movie flickered through her mind’s eye. If she remembered right, Tom Cruise didn’t seem terribly happy the entire epic saga. In fact, he’d looked pretty miserable and not at all like his Top Gun self.
Fuck. A. Duck.
“Nina, sit your scrawny ass down and do not speculate on anything. Wait for Wanda and me, and whatever you do, leave Mrs. Fedderman’s dog alone. Got that?”
Nina pressed the heel of her hand against her head to ease the swirling colors of the bathroom. “Fine. Color me waiting. Hurry up. My stomach is doing all sorts of crazy shit, and I’m telling you, Freddy is looking pretty tasty.” She was experiencing a hunger she’d never quite known. Yet it wasn’t the characteristic Lean Cuisine, boil-in-a-bag dinner she craved, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was she was hungry for.
The idea of food—frozen pizza—sardines in a can—some of her more typical dining fare—made her want to gag.
Marty gasped again with a brittle inhale of breath. “I’m dialing Wanda on my cell as we speak. Leave Freddy alone…”
Fine, she’d just wait. She was not going the way of Marty. There’d be no girly freak—no whining about this for a month like her friend had. She’d find the guy who did this to her, and then she’d kick his ass from here to kingdom come.
THREE hours later and after much struggle on her part to keep from hightailing it over to Mrs. Fedderman’s house for a taste of Freddy, first Wanda, then Marty had arrived. Wanda remained silent for the entire hour before Marty entered the picture, occasionally cocking her head and reeking of confusion.
Neither looked as freaked as she’d anticipated though, and she wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. “Look.” She opened her mouth wide and pointed to her teeth. “Was I fucking lying, Marty? What else could it mean except that I’m a vampire?”
Marty’s blue eyes rounded, wide and obviously puzzled. Pinching her fingers together, she tweaked at one fang. “Jesus,” she muttered. “You definitely have fangs. I think you might need extra Colgate.” Her quip was sarcastic as she headed for Nina
’s threadbare sofa and plumped a pillow to lean on, brushing imaginary lint from her immaculate black trousers, and scrunching the sleeves up on her bulky, peacock colored sweater. Nothing amazed Nina more than Marty’s ability to dress to perfection. No matter how unexpected the occasion, Marty was at all times impeccably outfitted and everything was always totally in her color wheel.
“What did you tell Keegan?” Nina asked, wondering exactly how Marty was able to get his fancy private plane without question, but more importantly, how he’d managed to let her leave his side for more than a nanosecond.
“Man trouble,” she answered with a sly smile. “I told him you had the boyfriend blues. He’ll be fine without me for a day or so.”
“Wow, wow, woooow.” Wanda exhaled, furrowing her brow and interrupting Marty, finally speaking for the first time since she’d arrived. “How do you talk around those? I don’t think I have a shade of lipstick that can help that.” She was much too much in Nina’s opinion.
“And you’re so pale. No amount of foundation is going to help that. I don’t get it, Nina.” Wanda took a place on the couch next to Marty. She looked tired. Her face devoid of makeup left her looking colorless and fragile. She’d let her dark brown hair grow in the past year, and, though Nina would never say it out loud, it suited her in the way it brushed against her shoulders. “How did this happen again?”
“The guy I was prepping for Dr. Berkenstein got loopy from his anesthesia. Most people just get numb, but not this guy. He was mumbling some crap when my hand was in his mouth to suction. All of a sudden he went slack and clamped down. He has to be the one responsible for this, right? I mean, you don’t just grow fangs overnight.”
Wanda nodded her agreement. “Well, he’s as good a place to start as any, I would think. He’s at least worthy of a look-see.”
“I don’t get it. He barely nicked me.”
Marty snorted. “Er, yeah. That’s what I said, too, and look at me now.” She made a pair of ears over her head with her fingers.
“Well, now I have these.” Nina pointed to her fangs again with an unpolished fingernail.
“You know,” Wanda commented wryly, “it sure would be nice if you both could stay out of trouble for a whole two minutes. If it isn’t Marty being kidnapped and werewolf-ized, it’s you with teeth like a Halloween costume.”
Nina couldn’t much blame Wanda for her fed up tone—they had been through a lot in the past year as a group. When Marty was bitten, all hell had broken loose. She was kidnapped and all sorts of crazy stuff began to happen. Though, the final result had been a serious color wheel coup for Marty and all had ended well. To say they’d been through the ringer together this past year was putting it lightly.
Nina ran a hand through her long, dark hair, not even bothering to silently curse the curls she could never tame. “I don’t like this any better than the color wheel freak did when she became a dog, but it is what it is, and you can’t tell me any different.”
“I am not a dog, Nina Blackman, and if you don’t stop referring to me as such, things could get ugly,” Marty retorted sharply, her nostrils flaring.
“Marty, Nina…” Wanda’s warning was firm. “Do not argue. I’m beat. I worked a long week, and I’m not going to sit between the two of you while you goad one another into a pissing match about who can take who. It’s disgusting the way you both behave. Besides, this time we have the chance to do it right. Marty didn’t come to us when she turned into a werewolf. So we couldn’t possibly help her when we didn’t know what was going on. We’re three informed women now, and if Nina really is a vampire, we’ll get through this together, but not while you two fight. Now go to your appropriate corners and shut your yaps.” She sat back on the couch, shooting them a look that screamed one part surprised, two parts smug.
Wanda was big into the “I am woman, hear me roar” scene since her husband had left and she’d found her niche at Bobbie-Sue.
It still shocked Nina that the meek, mild-mannered woman Wanda had been a year ago was the Wanda of today, daring to tell her what the fuck to do. Nina had to admit Wanda wasn’t just some rich podiatrist’s ex-wife anymore. She was a Bobbie-Sue selling machine. She’d kept her job at Bobbie-Sue, and now she was really making something of her life after that puke of a husband of hers had walked out and hooked up with some floozy chick who reveled in his freaky foot fetish.
“Okay, fine. You’re right.” Nina made a face of acquiescence. “We’re much more informed than we were a year ago about this shit. Let’s take a logical approach. I can’t see any other explanation for these chops—it has to mean I’m a vampire.”
“Shouldn’t you be like all freaked out?” Wanda wondered out loud. “Don’t you remember how Marty was after she was bitten by Keegan? I mean, she totally zoned out for like a week.”
Marty giggled. “Nina’s not like us, Wanda, she’s tough. You know, like grrrrrr. She’s not afraid of anyone or anything, remember?”
Wanda nodded her head, sporting a glib smile. “Oh, yeah, right. So, tough guy, what do you plan to do about this? You can’t go beating people up over it.”
The frig she couldn’t. “I’ve got a plan,” she muttered, perching herself on the edge of her worn, leather ottoman, fighting the voracious hunger assaulting her in waves.
Marty lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Oh, do tell, Nina. I’m dying here. How exactly do you plan to beat the information out of a vampire?”
Her shoulders moved up and down in a shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, there must be a way to fix this, and finding the guy who did this to me is where I should start, right?”
Marty’s look was skeptical. “I can tell you this much, there was no going back for me. Once I was bitten, that was kinda that.”
Nina frowned at her. “Thanks for the hopeful optimism, color freak.”
“Wait, you two. A thought just crossed my mind. Does Lou know?” Wanda asked, referring to Nina’s grandmother and another one of the reasons she’d moved to Hackensack.
“Are you kidding me, Wanda? My Nana Lou is more religious than the Pope. She’d have me exorcised quicker than you can say Bela Lugosi. No telling Lou anything yet. Not at all, if I can help it.”
“Do you have your laptop around here?” Marty asked, rubbing her hands together, briefly interrupting Nina’s worry over what Lou would say about her new set of chops.
“Yeah, why?”
“We’re going to look up vampires, that’s why. If I’d been in less of a state when Keegan bit me, I’d have looked the folklore of werewolves up on the Internet. I might have been better prepared if I had. Believe me when I tell you, knowing is half the battle with these paranormals.”
Nina leaned forward, reaching under the ottoman and pulling out her laptop. “Have at it.” She shoved her battered computer at Marty. Nothing about this had her thinking clearly. She couldn’t concentrate on Googling vampires right now. The only thing she did know for sure was she was so not going to wander around with teeth like this. And if Bram Stoker slash whatever his name was, really was a vampire, why didn’t his fangs stick out like hers did? There’d been nothing about his teeth that suggested he had fangs. And he’d had an afternoon appointment. Didn’t vampires melt in the sun?
Fuck, she was never going to be able to go to Rockaway Beach again.
An hour later, after endless visits to sites sporting information about vampires, Nina was less optimistic.
“Well,” Marty said, tipping her blonde head in Nina’s direction and closing the laptop. “I think we have a situation. Fangs are the least of it.”
“You know, Marty,” Nina found herself growling low, “you’re a real fucking ray of sunshine.”
“Nina—stop now.” Wanda put a hand up and shook her finger in Nina’s direction. “It’s not Marty’s fault you’re a vampire. Er, might be a vampire. We’re only trying to help. If what the Internet says is true, we have to locate Dracula and at least talk to him to find a solution. And that growling your stomach
is doing is going to have to be fed, according to www.vampiresarepeopletoo.com. Um, blood…” Wanda blanched, curling her legs underneath her and worrying her lower lip.
Marty’s pert nose wrinkled. “Jesus, and I thought I had it bad having to eat red meat. I mean, I was a vegan before all this werewolf stuff, but blood? Now that’s just icky. How do you know what type to drink anyway? Like what if O neg is too rich for you and you find you’re the equivalent of lactose intolerant to it? If what the Internet says is true, you’re going to be sucking some serious neck…”
Nina tried to gasp to show her displeasure, but it came out in a choked, dry heave. “Shut up, Marty! Could you be just a little sensitive here? I am not drinking blood. Not now, not ever—so cut it the fuck out.” Thinking a deep breath might be cleansing about now, she inhaled. Sort of.
Fear rippled through her. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she blew.
Nothing.
No air.
Holy immortality.
She couldn’t breathe.
What. The. Fuck?
Leaning forward, Nina put her head between her knees and fought for clarity. Her stomach raged, roaring with dissatisfaction. Jesus, she was hungry.
Wanda and Marty were up and on their feet, hovering over her in a matter of seconds. Marty’s hand ran along her scalp with a soothing caress. “Nina? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I can’t breathe,” she responded tightly.
“It’s anxiety, Nina. God knows I know all about that. Just try and take a deep breath. C’mon, in with the good, out with the bad.” Marty’s suggestion made her that much more panicked.
Accidentally Dead Page 2
