Accidentally Dead, Again

by Dakota Cassidy

  Falling to the floor from the stinging, debilitating pain, she reached outward, the tips of her fingers blackening as she clawed the floor. Each scrape of the cement tore at her falling flesh. Each inch she moved ripped at her skin, making her bite back screams.

  Get the gun, Phoebe. Get the fucking gun.

  Her hands touched the cool white enamel of one; latching on, Phoebe dragged it to her—each inch it moved, a slow agony—each tendon in her hands and arms ripping and tearing.

  Kill the bad guys, Phoebe. Kill the bad guys before they hurt Penny.

  The mantra replayed in her head as she dragged herself across the floor, managing to lift her knees and press into the wall for leverage. She rose on legs that were a hundred years old judging by the heavy, wobbly feel of them, then lifted the gun with arms that aged before her eyes. Phoebe pulled the lever and aimed with fingers that felt like they were in the flames of a roaring fire.

  And she screamed—screamed with her last bit of energy. “Get out of the way, Nina!”

  Kill the bad guys, her brain screamed when she took out the first goon who had Nina by the neck. His wailing, high-pitched scream cut through her ears like a knife. But it was over in an instant when he crumbled to the ground in a smoky pile of flesh.

  Kill the bad guys roared in her head when she aimed it at the shit stain who was grabbing Archibald by the arms.

  But she was losing her grip when she set her sights on this man Terrence. A man Marty and Nina knew. The gun fell to the floor in a clatter just as Terrence threw Marty into the far wall. Her scream wasn’t of pain, though. Phoebe knew it was born of rage.

  Sliding along the wall, her eyes caught on Marty, who’d once more gone for Terrence with a werewolf howl so piercing Phoebe winced.

  Marty’s body drove into his with such force he fell to the ground. Then she was on him, screaming, “You sick, sick bastard! Tonight, you die, motherfucker!” Spit flew from her mouth, her eyes were wild with rage when she grabbed onto his lab coat and smacked his body down against the floor.

  But Terrence was stronger, if what Phoebe had heard was right, and he easily flung Marty from him, knocking her into the cement wall.

  “He’s vampire, Marty! The motherfucker turned himself!” Nina screeched, fighting off the two remaining animals to claw her way to her friend, who had hit her head so hard she was slumped against the wall.

  “Phoebe!”

  Sam—it was Sam. She’d smile, but her teeth falling out was probably next, and the last thing she wanted someone to remember when she was on her deathbed was a toothless Phoebe. Chic even in death, baby.

  Sam pulled her to him, his right hand black and beginning to crumble. “Hold on, Phoebe! Hold on!” he bellowed, the deep grooves in his handsome face chipping away. “Don’t you dare do this to me, Phoebe—suck it up, Barbie. Don’t you dare leave this world before we read the Sunday paper together!”

  No sooner were the words spoken than Terrence rushed Sam, latching on to his back and hauling him off Phoebe, his eyes alight with his newfound strength.

  He picked up the gun and aimed it at Phoebe, the smile on his face serene.

  Out of nowhere, and where he’d found the strength, Phoebe would never know, Sam blindsided Terrence, smashing into him and taking him down with a roar.

  Pain made Phoebe rear up, her back arching while the black tendrils of scorching heat ate at her. Nina scooped her up off the floor, pulling her close when she caught sight of a woman entering the closet where Penny was. No. No. No!

  She clung to Nina’s neck, fighting back the scream her throat wanted to open up and roar from the sheer agony. “Pennyyyy!” she howled. “Leave me, Nina. Leaave meeee! Get Penny! Closet—she’s in the closet!” The words she bleated from her lips sounded like someone else, and in her haze of agony, as her body began to fail, she had but one thought.

  Save Penny.

  SAM landed one good right hook to Terrence’s face, so sharp and quick, his trainer would have smiled. But Terrence was stronger at this stage of the game of Sam’s decomposition.

  Until Darnell grabbed the scruff of Terrence’s neck with one hand and pointed the vampire ray gun at his face with the other. “Who’s yo nightmare, now, brotha?” Throwing Terrence down on the ground, Darnell cornered him, pressing the gun to his sharp jaw.

  “Antidote,” Sam rasped from a parched, inflamed throat. “Get the antidote!”

  Marty came up from Darnell’s rear and pushed him out of the way. “Give it to me, Terrence, or I’ll have him kill you! Do you hear me, you whiny piece of shit? I’ll watch you squirm your way to the grave and laugh while I do the Riverdance at your pathetic funeral.” She reached down and grabbed either side of his lab coat, dragging him upward until their noses touched. “Give it to me, brother—or I’ll gnaw your little testicles off right here!”

  Terrence’s eyes, glazed with anger, searched Marty’s. “You should have just gone away, you whore! I despise you and your filthy spawn! I despise you for sitting across the table from me at my father’s house. I despise you! If I could have gotten my hands on your disgusting, screaming toddler, she would have been my first guinea pig!”

  Marty slapped Terrence so hard the muscles in his neck cracked, echoing in the room. “You speak her name—breathe her existence—and I’ll choke you with your own needle dick!”

  “Marty!” Nina screamed from the other side of the room. “Get the fucking serum now!”

  Marty shook Terrence hard, rattling his fangs. “You’ve got two seconds to give it up, Terrence, or I’ll give Darnell the word!”

  “Miss Marty!” Archibald yelled from across the room amidst the debris of vials. “I think I’ve found it!”

  Sam willed his body to cooperate; arm after decomposing arm, he fought his way across the floor, his hair falling along the way in black chunks, his flesh protesting, burning, disintegrating. He had to get to Terrence. He had to make him give them the antidote.

  Wanda screamed across the floor in a clack of heels, her hand clasped around a vial. She kicked Terrence from Marty’s grasp and fell to her knees in front of him. “Is this it, sissy-man? Is this it, Terrence? So help me God, if you don’t give me the right serum, I’ll cut your head off myself and play a game of kickball with it!”

  Screams. All Sam could hear was Phoebe’s screams. He had to get to her. Had to tell her …

  Terrence smiled up at Wanda, eerie—blank—devoid of even the thrill of the kill. “Oh, that’s it, all right. But there’s only enough serum for one person. So choose, bitches! Choose between them!”

  “Phoebe!” Sam screamed, long and dry, the crackle of his voice ugly in his ears. His fangs ached, pushing outward, making communication almost impossible. “Give it to Phoebe!” Her ear-piercing screams tore at him—worse than the demons inside him ever could. “Phoebe,” he panted, clasping Darnell’s ankle as the last of his fingers began to crumble. “Get it to Phoebe … Penny. Penny needs her …”

  NINA clung to her shoulders, rocking her, crooning in her ear. “Hang on, Phoebe! Just hang on! Don’t you dare fucking leave this earth before you have the chance to make me fucking shop with you!”

  Her body bucked against Nina’s, writhing with the pain. She tried to free herself, but Nina held fast. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know about you. Jesus Christ, Phoebe. I’m sorry. Just hang on. Hang the fuck on!”

  That was all she needed. The last bit of acceptance from Nina. “Penny …” she wailed, clawing at Nina’s hoodie, her eyes sightless for the torture. “Take care of Pennyyyy … Save Sam. Please, Ninaaa—save him, too …”

  The burning. Oh, God in heaven, the burning—it streaked across her skin in hot colors, in blazing white ribbons of electricity.

  Please, she prayed with her last coherent thought. Please, let it end soon.

  “Nina! Hit the closet and get the bitch who’s got Penny!” Wanda ordered with a frantic demand. She took Phoebe from Nina’s arms, pulling her close to her chest. “I’m here, ho
ney. I’m here. I’ll make it better,” she cooed against the top of Phoebe’s head. “Hold her down, Marty! For fuck sake, keep her still!”

  Phoebe struggled against Wanda’s tight grip, hearing their words but fighting against them anyway. It burned. It burned so much she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

  “Phoebe, listen to me! Open your mouth—open it, damn you!” Someone pinched her cheeks, forcing her mouth open and letting out what she prayed would be her last scream before it was over.

  The taste on her tongue was cool and thick. A balm in the burning mass of blisters her mouth had become. “Phoebe, listen. Listen to me,” Marty cooed, dragging her hands over Phoebe’s face, soothing her. “Let it happen, honey. Please, stop struggling. It’s okay now. Shhhh. Nina has Penny, and it’s okay.”

  The pain screeching along her body skidded to a halt and entirely evaporated. Just like that, Phoebe sat up with a shot, narrowly missing Marty’s head. “Penny! Where’s Penny?”

  “Got her!” Nina yelled from somewhere sight unseen.

  “Ladies! Sam! We got ta help Sam!” Darnell bellowed from the opposite end of the room where she could clearly see he held one of those guns to Terrence’s head.

  Pushing past Nina and Marty, Phoebe rocketed across the room to where Sam lay. He writhed, and Phoebe fought a scream, for she knew his pain well. Brushing her hair from her eyes, she dropped down beside him, wrapping him in her arms. No. Please. Not this way. “Oh, God, Sam! Darnell—get the antidote!”

  “There is no more, you stupid bitch!” Terrence cackled from his place on the floor next to Sam.

  It was all it took for Phoebe to let Sam go and fall on Terrence. She yanked him upward by the hair. “Make more, you slimy fuck!” she screamed so loud it hurt even her ears. The demand tore at her throat, ripping from it with force.

  His eyes gleamed the venom that had eaten him from the inside out for all these years. “There’s no time. He’s going to die, you whore! He’ll die like the rest of them!”

  From the corner of her eye, Phoebe caught Terrence’s slender, pale fingers reaching behind him while Sam shook, crumbling before them.

  Her eyes caught a flash of white, registering a stray gun lost in the scuffle. His speed was such that she only had time to scream, “Shoot, Darnell! Shoot the motherfucker!” before ducking for cover and pushing Sam out of the way as a loud splash gushed from the gun’s barrel.

  Terrence’s wails mixed with Sam’s—high and howling. The anguish in both their wails spurred Phoebe toward Sam.

  She crawled to him, pushing Wanda from him, pulling him into her arms, making a split-second decision. He’d given her the last of the antidote. He’d given his life to save hers, and she’d do whatever it took to save his.

  She had nothing to lose. Healthy vampire plus not-in-such-good-shape vampire could equal diluted but upright vampire, right?

  She pulled him to her, tearing at her shirt and revealing the one spot on her neck where her blood had once pulsed. Without thought for what it could mean, without concern for anything other than saving Sam, she yelled at him, “Bite me, Sam! Do it now!” Phoebe cupped his head, yanking it back by clutching his hair, and placed her neck against his protruding fangs.

  Sam twisted, arching upward when she drove his fangs into her neck, his muscles straining and flexing—pushing at her, pulling into her, fighting against her until he stilled and lay against her breast in a lump.

  The sting of Sam’s bite was a million things at once. Hot bliss, agonizingly sweet, but sharp and painful, and she fought to keep her balance.

  Yet, Sam lay so still. “Sam!” Phoebe cried, giving him a hard shake. “Don’t you dare do this to me after all this, you shit. You didn’t even say good-bye to me, you—you stupid, prideful man. I can’t get to know FBI Sam if he’s dead. So don’t be dead. Please, please, please don’t be dead,” she begged on a dry sob, scrunching her eyes shut to ward off tears that would never fall.

  Then Wanda was kneeling beside her, rubbing her shoulders, resting her chin on Phoebe’s head. Marty, too. Both of them silent—silent because they didn’t want to speak the unspeakable.

  Nina fell to her knees beside them. She wrapped her arms around her sister, pressing her forehead to Phoebe’s back, rocking her. “Stop, Phoebe. Stop now. Please,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “I don’t know what you did, but I reiterate my original vampire concerns. If it involves choosing teams or sparkling in the sunlight, I would have preferred death,” a muffled voice said.

  Nina fell against Phoebe in clear relief. She reached around Phoebe and tugged a lock of Sam’s hair. “Swear to Christ, dude—no sparkling.”

  Wanda hiccupped, swiping a thumb across her cheek with a watery smile. “Not funny, Sam McLean.”

  Phoebe looked down into Sam’s face. Whole, pale, without a single scratch on it. She bracketed it with both hands. “You gave me the last of the antidote. You saved me,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his. “You’re like the wolver to my rine. The bat in my man. The Alejandro to my Constance.”

  “I don’t know who Alejandro is, but I’m going to be the pin in your bubble,” Sam snarled, pushing his way out of her embrace and sitting up. He cupped her cheek, fingering the tendrils of her mussed hair. “I told you to stay put, Phoebe. What the hell were you doing here?”

  Her hand wrapped around his wrist with a chuckle. “It was an accident. Swear it. I was pacing and worrying about you and Penny and the others, and bam—”

  But sharp screams stopped Phoebe from further explanation. Everyone turned their heads.

  Nina rose first, brushing her hands on her dirty, blood-spattered jeans. “Shut the fuck up, whiner, or I’ll give Arch the signal!” she yelled in the direction of the closet. She answered the question on everyone’s faces. “The other half of this dynamic duo. Arch has her at gunpoint.”

  “Who?” Phoebe asked, rising with Sam’s help. “Who are these people?”

  He pulled her tight to him, holding her close, the strength of his embrace making her smile. “Long, long story. But Terrence is Marty’s half brother.”

  Phoebe gasped against his chest. “In all the commotion, I wasn’t sure I heard Marty right. So he’s the brother who tried to kill her back when she was turned into a werewolf in the first place?”

  Marty chuckled, straightening her dress. “The one and only. The woman is Alana—a jealous pathetic clinger who once thought my husband should have been hers. She was in on my kidnapping the first time, too. Yet, still, she hasn’t learned, I’ll always be the badder bitch.”

  Penny. She was in the closet with Penny. Forgetting everything, Phoebe strained against Sam. “Penny!”

  Nina held up a hand and crossed the room, popping open the closet door to reveal Archibald holding the most beautiful blond woman Phoebe had ever seen at gunpoint. She snatched the woman up under one arm, and gingerly lifted a sleeping Penny, limp and still unaware, across the other.

  Archibald rushed in to take Penny from Nina, pointing to her wheelchair for Nina to set her in. He placed a blanket over Penny’s lap, cradling her head with his hand. “I’ll take her, miss. You”—he eyeballed the blond—“make sure this guttersnipe never sees the light of day.”

  “Oh, look. It’s Hooters Gone Wild. You were in on this with Terrence, too?” Marty sneered, circling the woman Nina slammed to the ground like she was a sack of potatoes. “Everyone? This is Alana. Alana? Meet everyone who wants you dead.”

  “I bought the goddamn jewelry box, you twit! That formula is mine!” she cried, rearing upward, her lithe body long and lush. “Whatever it takes to get rid of you so Keegan will come back to me—where he belongs!”

  Marty crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at the woman. “I should have known, you jealous bitch. Jesus. How many times do you have to lose to me before you remember you’re pathetic? Isn’t it like a slap in the face every time?”

  “She’s gotta go, Marty,” Nina said with deadly calm, leaving Phoebe shive
ring against Sam.

  “Leave her to me,” a booming voice sounded. A handsome man, tall and wide, stopped just short of this woman Alana’s sobbing form. “I’m Keegan Flaherty. Marty’s husband. Pleasure. I’m sure we’ll have more in-depth conversations at some point now that you’re part of the ever-growing fold. Until then, I have business to take care of.”

  Marty’s face went from infuriated to beaming in a split second. “Hi, honey! Thanks for coming. As you can see, we have a problem. Honest to God, never in a million did I believe that jewelry box story Helga told us was true.”

  Keegan smiled at her with blatant love written all over his tanned face. “Leave it to you to actually listen when it involves the word jewelry.”

  Marty ran a loving hand over Keegan’s forehead, ruffling his hair. “Okay, off with you. Give your wife a kiss, and please, this time, throw the pack book at her, huh?”

  Dropping a kiss on his wife’s lips, he smiled down at her. “You sure you got this?”

  Marty rolled her blue eyes. “Of course, silly. Shoo. See you at home later. Tell Hollis I’ll come in to kiss her good night.”

  Keegan nodded his dark head. “I’m out,” he said before stooping and grabbing Alana’s arm. Throwing her over his shoulder while she screamed her rage, he nonchalantly sauntered through the door.

  Darnell clapped Sam on the back and chucked Phoebe under the chin. “So thass all she wrote, folks. I’m all for gettin’ on outta here now, if y’all don’t mind. Don’t like the killin’ t’all.” His huge brown eyes held sorrow—remorse for what had to be.

  Nina’s eyes gleamed, mirroring Wanda’s. “You guys go. We’ll handle this shit.”

  Phoebe looked to Sam in confusion.

  He pressed another kiss to her lips. “The evidence, honey. We have to be sure no one gets their hands on the formula—and clean up the mess.” His eyes went to the man in the corner of the room, his gurney haphazardly smashed against a file cabinet.

  “You go, too, Sammy. You had one shitty night. You both need to feed and rest. Go. Go fast before I hand you a broom and a dustpan,” Nina teased.