Better Off Dead: A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel

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Better Off Dead: A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel Page 17

by Stella Blaze


  “Okay. It saved my life… but why me?”

  “The gift passes from generation to generation. My sister and I both had it. Unfortunately your mother didn’t. And I’m fairly positive your brother won’t get it.”

  Random thought, “If that’s because he’s a guy, don’t be so sure. He’s…” Should I let his secret out? “He’s not your typical teenage boy.”

  “Uh-huh…” Gram said. “You mean, since he’s homosexual, he might get it?”

  Oh crap! “I didn’t say that he was…” Gram was giving her a hard look. “Okay… but I didn’t tell you, okay?”

  “Deal. But no, that has nothing to do with it. I just don’t feel anything in him.”

  “But you said you didn’t feel anything coming off me either.”

  Gram frowned, and then clucked her tongue. “Good point. We’ll both have to keep an eye on him. No telling what kind of trouble a boy like him can get into with this power.” She smiled. “Though, I would love to see him being chased around by a zombie.”

  “Gram!”

  “Just a little one.” A mischievous smile manifested on Gram’s lips.

  “You know he has a phobia of little people?” Lucy said.

  “Seriously?” She chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Ever since he was five. Unlocked the parental controls on the cable and lost it when he flipped onto one of those leprechaun movies.”

  “Leprechauns?” Gram said, her expression sobering. “You’re not joking, are you?”

  “It was a thing.” Lucy waved it away with her hand. “Now he avoids the Wizard of Oz and The Lord of the Rings like the plague.”

  A goofy grin spread across Gram’s face, turning into a smile, and then she just cracked up.

  “You wouldn’t think it was so funny when he freaks out at the mall when he sees a little person. It’s embarrassing as hell.”

  Gram whooped, holding her belly. “What about little kids? Does he freak out over them too?”

  “No. Just little grownups.” Lucy’s face fell. “Now, about all this dead-shit stuff.”

  “Language, Lucybean.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t want dead things coming to life and attacking me.”

  “They won’t attack you. They won’t do much of anything unless you tell them to… as long as you practice controlling your power.”

  Lucy shot a finger up into her grandmother’s face. “There, I knew it! There’s always a nasty catch… just like in the movies.”

  “Lucy, dear, don’t worry. We’ll take some time over the next few weeks and I’ll teach you to control you power.”

  “Even better, why don’t you take them away? You’ve gotta know a way.”

  “Lucy.” Gram sounded so serious. “No one and nothing can take this from you. It’s a gift and you need to embrace it.”

  Lucy made a disgusted face. “Gross.”

  “Gross or not, seems you’re going to need it.”

  Lucy frowned.

  “It’s already saved your life. It will again.”

  *

  Gram gave Lucy a small, though rather thick book to read. The cover was so faded and worn Lucy couldn’t make out the title, but the title page was more than clear enough to make Lucy’s skin crawl.

  A Guide to Necromancy: Harnessing Your Affinity and Power Over the Dead, Calling Spirits, Animating Corpses, Fashioning Assorted Body Parts Into Zombies, and Taking Death Into You.

  Lucy dropped the book on the kitchen table when she read that last part. The thought of putting zombies together from spare parts was bad enough, but taking death into her. That wasn’t happening.

  “Taking death into you?”

  “That one’s a little advanced, but seeing how strong you power is right out of the box, as they say, I’ll have to teach it to you soon. It’s pretty much the ability to draw strength and power from the dead.”

  “No offense, but I don’t want to draw anything from the dead. I just want to keep them from following me around, okay?”

  “Lucy,” Gram’s voice went weary, “this isn’t something you can control enough to quell. Once the power activates it doesn’t just go dormant, even if you don’t consciously use it, it reaches out on its own and works its magic.”

  “Magic?”

  “Yes. What we do is a form of magic. A darker, older, and far more primal magic than your common witch would practice… but magic all the same. And magic is what makes vampires live, and werewolves… werewolves. It’s in everything supernatural.”

  “Fine, but I really don’t want to do anything with dead things.”

  Gram shrugged. “Either you master your power through use, or you ignore it and it reaches out and does things on its own. And you won’t be able to control what it does, or what it brings.”

  Lucy felt a chill as she waited for her grandmother to continue. She knew there was more.

  “And if you can’t control what your power brings forth, then it might end up killing you. It might even kill others.”

  Yep, Lucy gulped. There was more. Must stop asking questions!

  “Anyhow,” Gram said, flipping through the book. “This volume has a lot to teach you. And even though you find it repulsive, necromancy has helped this family more than you know.

  “After your grandfather passed, I was a single mother with a mortgage and a five-year-old little girl to support. So I waited tables at a little diner by day, and made extra money at night raising spirits and animating corpses.”

  “Ewww! Now that’s disgusting!”

  “It paid off this house and kept my family fed without public assistance or having to marry a man just for support. To me, that’s more than reason enough to have done it.”

  “Do you still…”

  “No. My power has faded quite a bit over the last decade or so. So it’s good that my child is grown.”

  “But why would anyone want to bring the dead back to life?”

  “Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “there are as many reasons for it as there are hearts to want it: to ask forgiveness, to say good bye, to find out if the deceased was cheating, or where they hid the insurance policy or the family fortune.”

  “Sounds horrible.” Lucy shivered just thinking about it.

  “It is.” Gram reached out and took her granddaughter’s hand. “And we animate the dead. We don’t bring them back to life. No matter how life-like they may seem, they are dead.”

  “So, the vampire chick—Delia—she’s dead?”

  “Technically,” Gram said, looking up to the kitchen’s stucco ceiling, contemplating. “Yes, vampires are dead. They were living, but they die when they are made vampire. Takes longer than you’d think, sometimes more than a week. And then a magic, somewhat like what we use to animate the dead, fills them with something very near life, but just as far removed from life too. Even the pure-bloods.”

  “Pure-bloods?”

  “That’s a vampire or werewolf that was born that way. There always has to be one or both parents already affected.”

  Lucy thought on that for a moment.

  “So that’s why I could tell her to let me go.” It started to make a sense that really wasn’t. But it did explain why she’d obeyed, and why each time Lucy had done it she’d felt the life drain out of her. She still felt pretty exhausted, and that was after a solid eight hours of sleep.

  “That’s what’s confusing,” Lucy’s grandmother said. “I’ve never heard of a necromancer having any power over a vampire before. It’s interesting.”

  “Interesting? Try disturbing.” Lucy drained her coffee mug a bit. “But in the handy sort of way.”

  “Indeed.” Her grandmother regarded her with a stern gaze. “And that brings me to how and why you’ve placed yourself in harm’s way?”

  “I didn’t do anything to that vamp-chick,” Lucy said, incensed.

  Gram raised her eyebrows dramatically. “Didn’t you, dear? You’re voluntarily playing the role of her lover’s fiancée.�


  “It was her idea… or so I’ve heard.”

  “Yes, but even if she weren’t a supernatural being, she would still have a hard time once she started realizing what all that involved.”

  Lucy had to admit, once Gabriel had pulled Delia away from her and she’d heard the resulting angry exchange—and had witnessed the naked (ha, ha) emotional connection the two shared, she actually had kind of understood. And when a vampire can smell the guy you just kissed on you, you can’t really imagine you’d get away with it.

  It all just felt so damn confusing.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her…” Lucy looked to her grandmother beseechingly. “And I didn’t want to lie to you.”

  “What’s done is done,” Gram said, “but I do want to know why you’ve done all this?”

  Tell the truth? Why not? Lucy didn’t have anything more to hide from her grandmother.

  “I wanted my old life back.” Just saying the words made a wave of relief fall over her. “I know that’s just shallow and I should be grateful for, well… grateful for everything… but…”

  “You don’t feel like yourself anymore.”

  Lucy looked to her grandmother, surprised. Did she really understand?

  “You don’t recognize yourself anymore, and without those things you used to take for granted, you don’t feel the same inside.” Gram stood up from the table and moved to pour herself another cup of coffee. “I get that. I felt that way after your mother was born. I loved her more than life itself, but having to give up so many things, and my freedom, all to take care of this little baby… it was a shock to my identity. And then Marshal died, and I had to give up even more of myself just to survive.”

  Lucy suddenly felt so stupid. She was complaining about losing a car, a line of credit, and her wardrobe. Her grandmother had lost most of her life to fate.

  Another reason to be weary of love. Even now, just the word elicited a little shock through her spine.

  She could feel tears threatening to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them back. “It wasn’t just the way those things made me feel.” She felt so low, complaining to a woman who’d sacrificed so much for her family—yet she was the only person in the world right then who understood, or even cared to understand how Lucy felt.

  “Ever since Daddy was arrested, and we moved here… I’ve felt… no, I know that I’ve lost the future I’d envisioned for myself.” She couldn’t help it as bitter tears fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. “It’s stupid, and… and really selfish…”

  Gram had taken her seat at the kitchen table again, reached out and took hold of Lucy’s hand. “No, no child. Mourning those things isn’t stupid or selfish. Those things were as much a part of you as the color of your eyes. And losing your future would devastate anyone.” Gram pulled a small pack of tissues from her pocket and handed them to Lucy. “I’m just sorry you didn’t come to me with this. We would’ve thought of someway. And I don’t like you being involved in an enterprise of this nature. Even without the vampires and werewolves—which you should’ve avoided—trying to pull a con-job on others is always a good way to get hurt.”

  “I know that… now. But at the time it seemed the best way.”

  “The easiest way, you mean.”

  Oh god, she hates me… is she going to tell me I have to stop? I can’t stop. I need this…

  “But that’s neither here nor there. What we need to do now is get you through the path you’ve chosen.”

  “Really?” Lucy said with too much hopefulness.

  “Well, if you think one vampire having it out for you is bad, imagine having her family, and the werewolves having it out for you too.”

  Lucy gulped at the thought. She had no idea what Delia’s family were like, but Lucy suddenly had a sinister image of Gabriel’s very large family all wolfing-out and surrounding her. The thought that had entered her mind right after the kiss last night, that if they only knew she was playing them, they’d all hate her. The fact that she’d fallen in love with them immediately coupled with the thought of them turning all fangs and claws, and coming after her for retribution, made her stomach flip over.

  “The thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, had it?”

  Lucy shot her grandmother with an irritated look. “You’re just so comforting right now.”

  They both laughed, even though it didn’t seem to relieve the sick feeling in Lucy’s stomach.

  “So, as I was saying, first thing we have to do is keep you moving down the path you’ve chosen… without getting you killed.”

  “Again with the comforting words.”

  “That means I’ll be expecting him for dinner tonight. Shall we say at six?”

  “Expecting who?”

  “Why, your werewolf of course.”

  Lucy couldn’t believe the cheery expression on her grandmother’s face. “You want me to bring my fiancé—that mom knows nothing about—to dinner?” She lifted her hands and then let them fall to the surface of the table with a disgruntled thump. “Are you crazy?”

  Gram looked even more bemused by her granddaughter’s displeasure. “Crazy is such a misunderstood term. I like to think that I march to the beat of my own drummer.” She raised her eyebrows again. “And yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

  Lucy shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t even know if he can come… he’s always busy with—”

  “I didn’t ask you if he was busy,” her grandmother said in a stern, flat tone. “I said you two will be here for dinner, tonight, at six. Am—I—Clear?”

  Lucy gulped. Her grandmother was getting scary. “Yes ma’am.” Lucy was still confused about one thing. “But what about mom and Seth?”

  “Your mother is working a double tonight, and your brother is staying over at his… friend’s house. So it will be just you, me, and your wolf.”

  My wolf… Lucy felt a warmth bloom in her chest. Gabe being mine…

  Lucy closed her eyes tight on the idea. Just the thought of what would happen if psycho-vamp-girl got wind that Lucy was really starting to feel something for Gabriel made her queasy stomach churn even faster.

  Chapter 14

  IT HAD TAKEN GABRIEL almost all night to calm Delia down. She was frantic, one moment seeming to believe what he told her, the next she was seething with jealousy and the desire to go kill Lucy.

  That thought had affected him far more than he’d been counting on. Sure, it was important to keep Lucy alive and well. Not only instrumental to Delia and his pulling the wool over his parent’s eyes, but she was actually a pretty good person. Even with the gold digging and shallow attachment to high end possessions, she had this quality about her.

  At first he’d assumed it was just a meeting of minds. He was completely goal oriented, and even though Lucy’s goals only aligned with his through their little arrangement, he had been truly impressed by her commitment and determination.

  And then there was the engagement party and that damn kiss.

  Not that it had gone badly. No, not a bit. Their kiss had been more than just convincing… it had been heart-stoppingly real. At least on Gabriel’s part.

  He’d felt drawn to her the moment his eyes had taken her in. The blood red dress, the way she moved through the room and how she’d effortlessly charmed everyone… including him.

  Sitting back in his chair at Enoch Industries, Gabriel felt guilt and shame mix with the lust he felt for Lucy.

  How could he want two women at the same time? What kind of man was he? He wasn’t that kind of guy. No, he certainly hadn’t been. Ever since the night he’d met Delia he’d wanted and loved only her.

  But then she had that crazy idea, though it sounded plausible at first. Even though sooner or later someone unsympathetic in the family would have found out and the whole thing would’ve exploded in their faces. Looking back now, maybe it was all just the very worst idea ever.

  And now, even though he’d said all those comforting things to Delia,
he knew he’d lied. Even though he felt the same about her, his newfound adoration for Lucy was something too powerful to deny.

  And he hadn’t been able to give Delia what she’d most wanted. After they’d left the alley, Gabriel had taken her back to her apartment. She’d tried to get him into bed with her, yet he had convinced her that he needed to get back to the party, to smooth the family’s ruffled feathers over him ducking out on the party.

  And truthfully, he had wanted to see Lucy again. He wanted it so much that he couldn’t disguise it. He only hoped that Delia wouldn’t pick up on it.

  He needed time to think, to weigh what he felt and what he knew, and to figure out what the hell he was doing and going to do. He needed to figure out what he really felt for both Delia and Lucy, and he needed to do it before he saw either one of them again. He couldn’t keep doing this, hurting them and keeping them in the dark. Not that Lucy was in the dark. She’d been a little cold when he returned to the party, but that had only lasted so long. By the time she’d left they were starting to look at each other in that infuriatingly infatuated way again.

  He’d wanted to follow her home, to grab her and hold her and kiss her beautiful, pouty lips. But he hadn’t. He’d gone home and tried his best to get some sleep. But what he’d dreamed of fitfully was all Lucy, and he’d woken more than once hungering for her to be beside him, to be in his arms.

  Laurel’s voice sang over the intercom. “Your fiancée, line one.”

  Gabriel snatched the receiver up so fast he almost dropped it. All his thoughts of trying to distance himself from Lucy until he’d figured things out flew out the window as he said, breathlessly, “Lucy? What can I do for you?”

  *

  To Lucy’s utter amazement Gabriel not only sounded happy to hear from her, he jumped at the chance to come to her grandmother’s for dinner. Lucy had a confusing moment where she envisioned Gabe as a cute little puppy, wagging its little puppy tail, and then said puppy morphed into a huge, fur and fang and claws and bulging muscles werewolf. The image was as unsettling as it was exciting.

 

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