Dead If I Do (18 page)

Sick? It sounded like maybe Parrish had some issues with being a vampire. “No, Teréza’s the only one Sebastian tried to turn. Mátyás is a dhampyr.”

“What’s that?”

Here was a curious situation: me, explaining to a four -hundred-year-old vampire some esoteric lore. “Uh, from what I understand, Mátyás was conceived the old-fashioned way, only Sebastian was already a vampire.”

“That’s not possible,” Parrish said, driving past Sebastian’s farm at fifty-five miles an hour.

“That was the turnoff. We just missed the house,” I pointed out.

“Vampires cannot have children the traditional way.” Parrish slowed the car down and pulled a U-turn that bumped us a little way onto the shoulder. The undercarriage scraped on the ice-packed snowdrifts on the side of the road.

“Sebastian can, I guess,” I said. “It’s probably because of how he was made. He can walk in sunlight too.”

“You hardly need to remind me of that,” Parrish said with a sneer as he drove past Sebastian’s farm a second time. “Well, it seems you’ve inherited a ready-made family. How nice for you.”

“Uh, you missed it again. The driveway,” I said, watching the adjoining cemetery retreat in the distance.

Parrish hit the brakes. They screeched as we slid a couple of feet before coming to a stop. “Get out,” he said curtly. I started to argue, but I got the sense I’d better open up the door right away, or he was going to toss me out himself. I stepped into the cold, blustery wind. Wet snow stung my cheeks.

“And you can tell Von Traum I’m not cleaning up his messes. Not for all the gold in England.”

I clung tightly to the doorframe. “No, wait, Parrish, it’s not Sebastian’s mess, it’s mine. You have to help me. I can’t seem to counter her spells, and I need someone to distract her from Sebastian. Please!”

“No,” he said simply. He looked straight ahead. His jaw clenched, reflecting the bluish light of the dashboard.

“Parrish, please. I’ll double your wages. Triple them.”

“No,” he said. Revving the engine, he glared at me with a look of pure hurt. “He already has everything I could ever hope for. Why should I make things easier for him? In fact, maybe if I team up with Teréza, I can make sure the wedding never happens.”

Even though the passenger side door was still open, Parrish stepped on the gas. The car flew past me, and the door slammed shut.

Taillights disappeared into the night. Snow fell on my head.

By the time I got to the front door, my hair was sop
ping wet. No one greeted me at the door, not even Barney. The living room was dark, but there was laughter coming from the kitchen. I slid out of my boots and hung my sodden coat on a hanger. My mother’s laughter rang through the house again. I don’t know why, but the happy sound depressed me. I wanted to crawl into bed and hide my head under a pillow. Maybe when I woke up, I could pretend like nothing had happened. After all, nothing else I’d tried helped. My wedding plans were in shambles. The protection spell ended in disaster. And now somehow I’d managed to piss off Parrish so much that not only did he no longer want to help, but he’d also decided to join forces with the person determined to destroy my life with Sebastian.

Teréza.

I peered up at the piano window beside the stair. It was too high up on the wall for me to see the barn, but I knew it was out there. And so was she.

I should just go kick her ass.

Eighth Aspect: Sesqui-Square

KEY WORDS:
Minor Issues, Obstruction

Before I knew it, I had my coat and boots back on. The
snow fell in huge, wet clumps. In the spotlight of the lonely lamppost in the cemetery, flakes rained down in a glittering white sheet. As I slogged my way along the side of the barn, I was grateful I ’d taken a moment to find my pink wool hat and fluffy blue scarf.

I tried to be sneaky, but each footfall made a splashing, spattering sound. The air, at least, had warmed slightly, but that also meant that the snowpack was melting into slush.

I was sure Teréza knew I was coming.

The barn was the classic, two-story wood structure. It had even been painted brick red at one point, though not much evidence of that still clung to the aged gray boards. Part of the roof had collapsed and, during the summer, barn swallows made their nests in the rafters.

But now, in the dark of winter, the place looked cold and dark and forbidding. At the door, I could smell the rot of accumulated years. The scent of hay mingled with skunk musk and the iron tang of rusted farm equipment. Slowly, I creaked the door open wider. If Teréza hadn’t heard me sloshing up the hill, the loud groan of hinges gave my presence away. I could care less. I was done playing games. It was time for the direct approach.

“I know you’re in here,” I said into the cavernous darkness of the barn’s interior. “We need to talk. Woman to woman.”

Something skittered in the gloom—a soft, scraping sound of tiny claws on flagstone. I stepped farther inside. I left the door wide-open, since the only light came from the yard light. Dirt-encrusted rakes and hoes hung on pegs along the wall. The rusted curved blade of a two-handed scythe blended into the shadows. Chains hung from the ceiling.

“Hello?” I ventured, a little less certainly. Then, hearing the timid echo of my own voice, I cleared my throat and tried again.

“Get out here. I’m done playing games with you.”

An amused, condescending chuckle drifted out of the darkness.

What I really wanted to do was crawl under a rock and hide. Instead, I squared my shoulders. She was dangerous, but so was I. Closing my eyes, I formed the image of a circle of protection around me. It surrounded me like a soap bubble, though there were tiny holes at the top and bottom. The bottom hole drew up energy from the earth. The top was there as a release valve, if I needed it. And I had a feeling I would.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, this time with the knowledge there was an invisible ring of protection around me, sounding like I believed it.

“Who’s afraid of the big, bad vampire?” Teréza’s voice intoned from beyond my sight.

“Show yourself.”

“I’m here. Can’t you see me, little mortal?” Slowly, Teréza’s features emerged from the dark. Shrouded by long, black hair, her pale face seemed to hover in shadows. The hanging chains swayed as she walked under them, clacking softly. O-kay, she definitely scored more points in the creepiness department.

Now it was my turn to show off at bit. I took a deep, calming breath. As I breathed in, I visualized Lilith swelling up inside me. Her heat raced along my nerve endings. I began to sweat. My clothes felt heavy and steamy, like I’d spent an hour cross-country skiing. An electric spark skated around the circumference of the protective sphere. People told me that when I was at this stage, with Lilith barely below the surface, my eyes glowed ruby red. When I spoke, though I couldn’t hear it in my own ears, I know my voice took on a strange timbre, like two people speaking at once. “It’s time for you to back off, Teréza. Leave my family alone.”

Teréza stepped forward, and now I could see the dim outline of her form. She still wore the ragged remains of a black evening gown, but she had added a calf-length, military-style coat. It had some kind of dark fur at the collar, reminding me of a Russian soldier’s uniform. “Your family?” She asked, seemingly unimpressed by my display of power. “It’s my son and his father in that house.”

After everything Parrish had said in the car, I was strangely relieved she didn ’t say “husband” when referring to Sebastian.

“You’re dead. You’ve been dead for over a hundred and fifty years,” I said. “They’re mine now.”

I couldn’t believe I’d just claimed Mátyás as family, but it was already out of my mouth. I wasn’t going to take it back.

“Dead?” Teréza sounded surprised. “Sleeping. Terrible dreams.”

As always when she seemed lost, I felt a deep stab of sympathy for her. It wasn’t her fault that Sebastian’s attempt to turn her into a vampire had failed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sure no one meant for this to happen to you.”

Apparently, apologizing was the wrong thing to say. Teréza’s brow furrowed. The moment her lip pulled back into a snarl, I was ready for it.

Or at least I thought I was. I was expecting a physical attack, but instead, Teréza’s grimace became a sly smile. She bowed her head slightly and murmured something. I thought I heard “mote” or maybe it was “smote,” but the next thing I knew, dust from the floor began to rise.

A wall of dirt and hay bits took form before my startled eyes. For a moment, the particles became a crudely human shape. There was a head and two arms, but it didn’t hold together terribly well. Just as it seemed nearly solid, it would melt and need to be re-formed.

I was impressed. She’d called up an earth elemental, mostly. That was serious magic and certainly not something I could do on the fly. When she was alive, she must have been the kind of witch that struck terror into people ’s hearts. I could see why Sebastian had been attracted to her.

Teréza’s eyebrows drew together in concentration. Whatever was wrong with her mind seemed to be keeping her from holding it together, literally. Every moment I thought for certain the dust golem was ready to attack, it would shatter. Finally, she gave up with a frustrated cry and jumped on me.

I snapped my hand forward with my palm out, like a traffic cop signaling “stop.” Instantly, the protective shield became an opaque electric blue.

When Teréza’s body hit the bubble’s barrier, she flew backwards. Sailing through the air, she crashed against the far wall of the barn. Dislodged farm tools clattered onto her head. The hoe, the scythe, a rake, and two shovels banged onto the stone floor. While she shook her head, dazed, I prepared my next move. I didn’t want her to have time to cast another spell. The elemental demon might not have held together, but something else might.

Stepping forward, I traced the shape of a pentacle in the air. A door appeared. When Teréza pulled herself upright, I grabbed her by the lapels of the coat. My fingers touched the silky material, and my brain registered it as real animal fur. Oh, now I’d take great pleasure in strangling her to death.

Meanwhile, she had taken the scythe in one super strong hand. The next thing I knew, I felt the blade slide across my shoulder, cutting my coat. Surprise focused Lilith like a laser. My hand snapped up and grabbed Teréza’s larynx and started crushing. I smelled human rot. Something slimy and squirmy slithered onto my hand. White, wriggly insects crawled up my wrist. Maggots! I pulled my hand back in disgust. The instant I let go, the bugs disappeared. An illusion? I shook my hand to get rid of the creepy-crawly feeling.

Teréza stumbled out of the circle, grasping at her neck. The scythe fell to the floor with a clatter. Lilith sneered in anger. Teréza tricked me with her magic. Lilith did not like being fooled. I had to move quickly to regain my advantage.

The barn doors flew open with a crash. “Stop!”

Even though our blood bond had weakened over the years, Sebastian still knew any time I triggered Lilith. My fingers were already knotted in Teréza’s hair. My other hand was poised to jam her throat.

“Oh my, Garnet!” a voice shouted. It was my mother.

“Holy hell!” My father said, coming up beside my mom. That broke me. My father hardly ever cursed. Lilith dropped down deep. The sizzling sphere of protection sputtered and collapsed around my ankles. Teréza pulled away from me and broke my grip on her hair.

I turned to explain myself to Sebastian and my folks, and Teréza tackled me. My head smacked against the flagstone floor. For a dead girl, Teréza fell on me like a sack of bricks. The air rushed out of my lungs. Her hands went to my face, fingernails clawing and grasping blindly.

I called on Lilith’s strength and gave Teréza a twisting shove. She flew up into the air and then fell on to the floor with a wet, hard thump. She groaned but lay still.

Sebastian was at my side in that preternatural way he had. His hand pressed my shoulder where the blade cut me. “Are you all right?” he asked. He spared a glance at Teréza but stayed at my side.

My father stood in the door and shook his head. My mother tut-tutted. I heard her mutter something about not having raised me to catfight.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Teréza pull herself up and grab the scythe from where it had fallen. Our gaze met for a second before I yelled, “Watch out!”

I cringed, expecting to die. My peripheral vision caught a sense of movement, but my eyes stayed glued to Teréza. I thought I saw my father pick something up, but I couldn’t be sure, as my eyes watched the blade descending toward my head. I started muttering a spell, but I didn’t think I’d be able to complete it in time.

I looked up to see Teréza’s head whammed to the side, as a two-foot-tall, metal milk can caromed off her head. Her eyes rolled up, and she crumpled to the floor.

I looked around to try to figure out what happened. My dad gave me the thumbs-up. He wiped his hands on his jeans, and I surmised he’d been the one to toss the can.

My mom looked a little green around the gills yet a bit proud of my dad’s prowess. “Is she dead?”