Dead Girls Don't Sing

by Casey Wyatt

  Unless . . .

  Hope darted through me.

  Before coming to Mars, I used to become trapped in visions. Jonathan once told me he could feel my consciousness leave my body. How weird is that?

  I touched the gold cuff on my right wrist. A so-called gift from Queen Victoria, our now dead queen of vampires. Enkil’s cuff—yes, it had a name—had belonged to another ancient queen. Queen Azaral of the Eliade, to be precise. The race that once inhabited Mars long before humans dominated the earth.

  Was it too much to hope that Jonathan was another vision?

  “I wished it worked that way.”

  My heart leapt into my throat. I refused to turn around and see Jonathan standing there. “Nope. No. No. You do not get to do this to me.”

  “Charity. I am truly sorry.”

  “Says the man who won’t stay dead.” I rubbed my baby bump, the gesture settling my nerves.

  The sound of fingers scraping over stubble reverberated up my spine. In life, he’d rubbed his chin when he didn’t know what to say to me. Unable to stand it, I turned around to face him. If I still had breath, it would have caught in my throat. In another time and place, I would have described him as jaw-droppingly handsome. Dark full hair, strong jaw, deep blue eyes, and full lips. He had a face that stopped conversations and garnered every ounce of attention. And he knew it too. He’d wielded his beauty like a weapon, when it served his purposes.

  Too bad his gorgeous head was tucked under his arm like a basketball. The stump of his neck, cleanly sliced, glistened with scarlet blood and bleached white bone.

  I leaned over and vomited fruit punch into the nearest plants. Wiping my mouth with my hand, I forced myself to look again. “You could have warned me.”

  “I cannot help how I appear to you. I take the opportunities given to me. I regret that you must see me like this. My message is dire. You must listen.”

  “Trust me. You have my full attention.” It was hard to see him headless. The manner of his death haunted me. He had chosen execution to save his Family. To save me. The baby wiggled in my belly as if sharing the same thought.

  He dropped to his knees, his body replaying its death moment. “You can’t stop what’s coming, but you don’t have to go along with it either. Be brave, Charity. Take help wherever you may find it.”

  “How about you just tell me what is going to happen?” Riddles piss me off. Be direct, I always say.

  “Not how it works,” he panted. Spasms quaked his arms. The severed head fell to the ground with a stomach-turning squish. His eyes rolled upward. Phantom blood spurted from his neck. “Time will have its way.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears. I couldn’t watch him die again.

  Footsteps shuffled somewhere among the plants. I spun around. Bad things had happened to me before when I was alone in the greenhouse. Not that I expected to be attacked, but a girl could never be too careful.

  Something approached on two legs, body obscured by leafy greens.

  “Had enough of the party?” Louis said, words muffled by stacked planting trays.

  “Yup.” If Jonathan had been there, he was gone. If he showed again, maybe I’d remember to use the cuff to analyze him. If I could keep my wits about me for a change. “You on duty today?”

  Trays banged against a metalwork bench. Puffs of Martian dust floated upward despite the humidity in the greenhouse. Dust was perpetual and plentiful here.

  “Someone needs to tend the plants. It’s my turn.” He smiled with the same doofus grin that zombies always sported when talking about plants. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to get into the whole ghost thing.

  “You can’t fool me. Let me guess, you’re bummed because Prior is leaving.” Louis grinned again, flashing his adorable dimples.

  “Yeah, that’s totally it.” I rolled my eyes.

  His smile fell flat. “Seriously. Something has you spooked. I could go find one of the Rogues. Or Ian. I’m sure he’d be happy to investigate.” The Rogues were a band of renegade vampires that lived independent of Families. Ian was their freely appointed leader but not blood bonded to them like a traditional Sire. They’d saved my bacon more than once in the war against Thalia.

  I frowned. “Playing hardball, are we?”

  Irritating as it was, I had to admire Louis’ use of blackmail. He knew me well enough to know that if I hadn’t called Ian, I was hiding something. And believe me, it’s not easy to hide strong emotions from a bonded mate.

  “Whatever works. I’m just going to attach these trays while you find your words.” He clicked the trays in the growing racks.

  I paced the floor, fingers brushing the greenery. It was remarkable how we managed to grow food. It used to gross me out when I thought about the special ingredient feeding the soil—molted zombie skin. I’ve since gotten over it. Mostly.

  The last tray snapped into place, signaling time was up. Louis turned and folded his arms. I was thankful he didn’t impatiently tap his foot. Yet.

  “I’m done. Now give.” Louis stepped near enough to hear me over the machines.

  I swallowed hard. The words lodged in my throat. I knew I could confide in Louis. I trusted him and I knew he wouldn’t laugh—much. I also knew he would keep my secret.

  “Did I ever mention I have visions?”

  He shook his head. I continued before I lost my nerve and bolted. There was nothing inherently wrong with visions, but, given my family history, thoughts of men in white coats were never far behind. “They went away after we came to Mars. Now they’re back.”

  And more interactive. Yup, that was the lie I was telling myself.

  A strange brightness glimmered in Louis’ eyes. Wonderment flashed across his face. His mouth opened in awe. Or maybe surprise because he thought I was insane. “You must be Founder touched.”

  Or just touched. In the head. To stop the comment, I bit down on my lip. “Founder?”

  “First-kind. Only those who are direct descendants of the First-kind are blessed with extra gifts.”

  “Like being a Blue Blood isn’t gift enough?” I grumbled. Having a special blood type had made me a virtual prisoner. Especially in the early decades. Jonathan had never let me stray far out of his sight for fear I’d be captured and used in the blood trade.

  Louis continued to stare at me as though I’d sprouted wings and a halo. His expression hardened. “Some things should not be joked about.”

  “Believe me. I don’t think it’s funny.” Subtle pangs rippled up my spine. I’d been standing too long. I shifted from foot to foot. Louis watched me before darting away. A moment later, he reappeared, wheeling an office chair in my direction.

  I sunk into the chair, relieved to be off my feet. “Are Founders so rare?”

  Louis picked up a spray bottled and spritzed a row of plants. “Yes. I’ve never met a zombie First-kind.”

  Was Jonathan one of them? He had been much older than he’d let on. But Ian dated back several thousand years. He once told me his village had seen a star fall from the sky. I’d have to find a way to ask him without arousing suspicions. I know it didn’t make any sense, but I didn’t want Ian thinking I’d lost my mind. Or worrying about me. He had enough on his plate with running the colony and managing the space revenants.

  Something else pricked my memory. Something about the Eliade, the ancients. . .

  “Have you had a terrible vision?” he asked from another row over. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t noticed him move away.

  “Not exactly,” I said, rubbing my belly. The baby must have been sleeping because she’d stopped jumping around.

  “I saw—”

  “Sire? Are you in here?” Nina called from the airlock.

  “Over here!” Louis waved. “Another time?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” I said. Talking with Louis reminded me to stop spending so much time alone.

  One of the best parts of bei
ng in a vampire family is that you’re never alone if you don’t want to be.

  Nina joined me among the plants. “Are you ready? We wondered where you’d disappeared to.”

  “I needed some me time.”

  “Harmony sent us looking. She mentioned you might have forgotten.”

  “Never,” I said, summoning the energy to smile.

  Part two of the day’s extravaganza—a ladies-only sleepover in my quarters. We’d started holding them once a month. This month it was my turn and the ladies had scheduled the shower to coincide.

  I’d been trying to convince the women in my Family that we could be friends too. We’d formed a tighter bond since coming to Mars. Sure, we’d spent decades together working as entertainers, but because I was the Sire’s wife and confidante, the others had kept their distance.

  Call me crazy, but I wasn’t going to live on Mars speaking only to Ian, Jay, Louis, and Harmony. I didn’t believe in “hands off” as a management style. We were in this together. And in such a small group, we couldn’t afford to let resentment, elitist attitudes, or plain old bitchiness divide us. Plus, as their Sire, I could sense when morale dipped. Sad to say, I’d been sensing loneliness more often these days.

  Festering emotions can be fatal to us undead types. Better to deal with it before it became a serious issue. And what better way than having some girls’ nights in my apartment?

  Ian had taken the news that I was kicking him out of our home like a champ. He’d overnight with the Rogues. He’d be fine.

  “The baby’s room is adorable,” Brandy said, rejoining the group in the main room.

  The turnout so far, five females. Three vampires and two revenants. I didn’t discriminate. Any flavor of the undead was welcome.

  “Thanks to you.” I may have a killer sense of stripper style, but my decorating skills are severely lacking. I’ve been told, “too much grandma, not enough flair.” Ouch. “The baby shower was a wonderful surprise.”

  “Our pleasure.” Brandy leaned in. “Nina said you hated surprises. I guess she was wrong.”

  Nina snorted. “Brandy, sit down. The dip is getting cold.”

  Obviously, she’d heard. No matter. I lowered myself into a chair. Brandy found a spot wedged in on the floor near the low coffee table.

  Nina had been experimenting with creating “food” like kale chips with mushy fruit dip. She cited fatigue from drinking juice pouches. “We’re not toddlers. I refuse to eat like one,” had been her exact words.

  “Looks yummy,” I said, trying to mean it. The undead and solid food didn’t usually mix well.

  Nina chuckled but didn’t call me out on my skepticism. A perk of my being Sire— no one wanted to contradict me. It was also a limitation, in my book. Nothing good ever comes from telling a person only what they want to hear. As Jonathan could have attested to. I’d never let him get away with much.

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Harmony said from the doorway. “I don’t hold much regard for kale. It gives me a stomachache. But I did bring these.” She set down a tray of long, narrow, orange things.

  “Fingers?” I hoped not.

  Brandy tittered. “I was going to say the world’s smallest dingies.”

  “You mean dicks,” Nina corrected.

  Muriel, one of the revenants, chimed in, “The bigger the better, I say.”

  “And they’re off,” muttered Joan, resident anthropologist and one of the few vampires not in my Family. She took a kale chip and nibbled the corner like a rabbit testing a patch of clover.

  Hey, we women can be just as crude as men. Don’t judge.

  Harmony wasn’t amused. “They’re canapés. Made from carrots and lime gelatin.”

  “Waste of perfectly good gelatin shots, if you ask me,” said someone in the corner of the room.

  I laughed. The “what happens in the room, stays in the room” rule was in effect.

  “I will pleasure, for a full year, whoever creates an alcohol that gets me drunk.” Nina meant every word. About the pleasure and the drinking. It wasn’t the first time she’d suggested it. That explained why Jay was actively working on concoctions in his lab. Sex with Nina for a year was motivational.

  “Who gets to pick the game tonight?” I asked. My pregnancy brain couldn’t remember.

  “It’s Cherry’s turn,” said Nina. “Brandy picked last time. The next letter is C.”

  That’s right. We played the latest card game from Earth, the one with the black and white cards. I’m sure you know which one I mean. There aren’t a lot of rules to our gatherings, besides the aforementioned silence, but we have to rotate our fun so things don’t get stale.

  I cursed myself for that rule. I hadn’t thought one iota about the game. I know some of the girls spent weeks planning. Not me. I was lucky to remember to match my socks.

  After some robust suggestions, Nina held up her hand. The silence in the room was aimed at me.

  I said the first thing that came to mind. “Truth or Dare.”

  There were a few gasps. I wished I had thought of Go Fish first. Why? Because the undead generally don’t like to talk about the past. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have been thinking of a way to get everyone to talk. Go me. Except I’d have to talk too.

  “Ladies. A reminder. You must answer truthfully.” Nina cracked her knuckles. She was always up for anything.

  “And you can’t choose a dare or the truth every time either,” Joan added. Of everyone in the room, she appeared most concerned. I could only imagine what she wanted to keep secret.

  “This ought to be interesting,” Harmony said over my shoulder in between nibbling a canapé.

  “Yup,” was all I would commit to. “Lucky you. You’re on my right so you get the first question.”

  Harmony coughed and banged her chest. “Ugh. That went down funny. Go ahead. I can handle the truth.”

  Everyone’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Harmony was so dignified and proper most of the time. It would be fun seeing if she could be rattled into a dare. No pressure on me or anything.

  Pressure could explain the question I asked. “Truth or Dare. Have you ever slept with one of the Rogues?”

  “Dare.” She didn’t skip a beat. The look she gave me promised serious payback.

  “Curse like a sailor for twenty seconds straight.”

  I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say despite her calm demeanor, Harmony can cuss like a boss.

  That was the icebreaker everyone needed. The game took off at a feverish pace, finally circling around to me. Luckily, Nina was the one to ask my question. Harmony’s payback would come some other time, some other place.

  I braced myself, hands rubbing my belly. The baby kicked like a boss too. Like she was eager to hear the question.

  Nina faced me. “If you could, would you turn back time and change your past?”

  My brows furrowed. I’d been ready to answer a raunchy question like everyone else had. What choice did I have? I was extremely pregnant and physical antics were off limits. The tone in the room deflated too. “Time travel isn’t possible.”

  “Quit stalling,” said Harmony.

  An answer lodged in my brain. One I couldn’t make myself answer out loud. “Dare.”

  Whoops and hollers went around the room. I think I’d shocked everyone. Nina probably thought she’d delivered me a softball question, but like everything when you’re undead, it wasn’t so easy to answer.

  Nina bit her bottom lip, unsure of what to dare me. Harmony circled around and whispered something in her ear. Nina’s expression lit up. “You have to play a song slapping your butt cheeks until someone guesses what it is.”

  “You’re welcome,” Harmony said with an evil grin.

  Yeah, payback was a bitch. My butt hurt for a solid hour afterward. No one could guess my damn song. I should have picked something more obvious.

  But the spirit of the question lingered into the next round of the night like Jonathan’
s unwanted shade. I half expected him to reappear. Thankfully, he hadn’t.

  The slumber party was in full swing with blankets and pillows in a circle on the floor. Except for me. Pregnant women didn’t crawl on floors. The ladies propped me on the couch, pillows supporting my sore back.

  Nina lay on her stomach, resting on her elbows. Her fingers twisted the corner of her pillowcase. “Have you ever wondered if we should go back?”

  Brandy rose up and stared at her. “To Earth?”

  “Ach, no,” said Muriel, her Scottish accent peeking through. “Whatever for?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t you miss the ocean? Or smelling pizza and coffee?” Nina’s forlorn question seeped into me. As her Sire, I could feel strong emotions in close proximity.

  “We’re safer now,” Brandy said, nervously glancing toward me.

  “Hey. None of that,” I said. “There is no right or wrong here.”

  “Yes, but . . .” Nina sighed. A heaping lump of regret landed in my head. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.”

  A collective nod of agreement passed around the room.

  Joan spoke first, not hiding her bemusement. “Let me get this straight. If I’m reading this conversation correctly, you’re saying there aren’t enough men here?”

  “Not the kind you can fall in love with,” Nina confirmed.

  Ouch. Poor Jay. He and Nina had been having a not-so-discreet boink-fest in his lab.

  “We can’t all be as lucky as Cherry,” Muriel pointed out. I think it was meant to be helpful, but the comment landed in the room with the subtlety of a fart.

  What could I say? Nothing useful. Nina had a point. After close to a century under Jonathan, the ladies had all but eschewed serious entanglements. Jonathan was fine with romances but they couldn’t interfere with business. He didn’t want to deal with angry boyfriends. And believe me, given the age most of us came from, it would be an issue. At the time, it made perfect sense. Except now, I was the Sire. And that rationale didn’t belong on Mars.

  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” I had to think about what to do with the information.

  Worry creased Nina’s face. “Please don’t take my musings the wrong way. I don’t want to leave Mars.”