Death Takes a Holiday (22 page)

His patrol car is only a few feet away, but I need to lean on him a little to make those steps. He opens the door and plops me in the front. I jerk when the door slams shut. I should be fine in a few minutes. The adrenaline will disappear, and I’ll regain motor control.

Steven follows my instructions to the car, glancing at me on the way.

“Maybe you shouldn’t drive,” he says when we pull up to the lot.

“I’ll be okay,” I say. “I just felt nauseous for a moment.”

“You’re not drunk, are you?” he asks. “I can’t remember. What did you order?”

“A Coke. We both had Cokes. Are you sure
you’re
okay? You’ve been kind of a space cadet for the past two days.”

“I have?” he asks, confusion all over his face. He thinks for a moment. “I guess.”

“Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“I think so. Huh.”

I open the car door. “Get some sleep.” I’m about to step out but remember his gun. “Oh. Here.” I hand him his service weapon and cuffs. “You forgot to get them back from the bouncer.”

“I gave him my gun?” he asks, surprised at his faux pas.

“They wouldn’t let us in otherwise. Remember?”

He puts it back in its holster. “Oh.”

I smile sympathetically. “Steven, seriously. Get some sleep. I’ll call you later.” I get out of the car and shut the door.

I know I’m the world’s worst ex-girlfriend. Lying, having someone mind rape him, confusing the heck out of him. I’ve lost at least a thousand karma points, but at least he’s alive. That’s what I hate about this job. The ends barely justify the means.

I start up my rental car and pull out of the lot.

Time to go home and face the music. At least it’s not a funeral dirge.

“I would have preferred that you
were
into drugs,” Nana says, extremely calm for the information overload I’ve just given her.

“You raised me better than that,” I say with a weak smile.

“And that’s where you were tonight? With … vampires?”

“Yeah.”

I let this sink in. We sit on the couch in the living room facing each other. She’s wringing her hands in her lap through our entire conversation. All in all she’s handling it well, better than I would. I really didn’t want to tell her, especially after all of Connor’s threats, but I had to. My new life is affecting my family. They have a right to know. And it feels good to tell. Freeing.

“Did they hurt you?” she asks.

“No.”

“Did you hurt them?”

“Not a lot.”

She’s silent for a moment, trying to form the correct words. “Why—How—Why … ” She sighs. “I have no idea what to say in this situation.”

“ ‘I’m proud of you’?” I offer.

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘You’re grounded.’ ” She shakes her head. “This is because of what happened to Brian, isn’t it? I should have been more forceful with him growing up. I should have tanned his hide the first time he was cruel to you.”

“Nana, stop it. This was all me. My decision.”

But she’s not listening to me. She stares at the coffee table. “And you lied to me. All these months?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. That’s all.”

I try to touch her hand, but she pulls it away. “That’s my job, Beatrice. And you didn’t trust me to do it.” She stands up. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. We’ll talk more about this in the morning.”

She walks into the hallway, and a moment later her bedroom door shuts. I fall back into the couch and hug a pillow. That could have gone better. I wasn’t expecting a parade or anything but some acknowledgement about my good deeds would be nice. I sigh. What a couple of days. Tomorrow I am so not leaving my bedroom. Not if there’s a fire, an earthquake, or if Chris Evans shows up on my doorstep begging me to run off to Hawaii with him. With my luck a huge lava monster would chose
right then
to wake up and attack the tourists.

I lock my bedroom door and change into my pajamas. It’s only 8:30, but I shut everything off and climb into bed. The problem with adrenaline is that when it wears off, you feel a hundred years old. Muscles hurt, your thinking is sluggish, and sleep is the only cure. I close my eyes and within minutes this horrid day fades away. Some holiday I’m having.

Pounding. On my door. Crap.

My eyes open as fist meets door again. It takes a second but the cobwebs vanish, and I can think again. There’s another succession of pounds.

“Bea, wake up!” Nana says, her voice peppered with fear.

I jump out of bed, totally awake now. I open the door to find a wide-eyed Nana clutching onto her robe and a metal baseball bat.

“What? What is it?”

“I think they followed you home. The vampires.”

Instinct takes over. I snatch the bat out of her hands and run to the front door just as the doorbell chimes.

“There’s two of them!” Nana calls.

They can’t get inside without being invited, but their human goons can. I raise the bat as I peek through the peephole. Of course. Because this day couldn’t get any worse. I lower the bat, not because I don’t want to hit the people outside, but because I do.

“Oh hell,” I mutter.

“Who is it?” Nana asks.

With a groan, I unlock the door and open it. I can never get a freaking break.

“Hello, Trixie. Care to invite us in?”

I slam the door in his face.

NINE

UNWELCOME GUESTS

“
I
’M AFRAID
I
DON’T
have, um, anything to offer you Mr. … ” Nana says to Oliver as she hands Will a cup of coffee.

“Montrose, Mrs. Alexander,” Oliver says with a gracious smile. “But I insist you call me Oliver.”

They’re in my living room. On my couch and chair. Making small talk with my grandmother. Who is acting like Emily frigging Post to a werewolf and vampire. Really wish I still had that bat in my hands.

“Yeah, we could have run to the butcher shop
had we known you were coming
,” I say through gritted teeth as if the folded arms and dagger eyes aren’t enough of a signal of my displeasure.

“Beatrice,” Nana warns, “be nice. Your friends flew all the way from Kansas because they were worried about you.”

“
Right
,” I say sarcastically.

Nana shoots me a “behave” look before smiling back down at Will. “Are you sure I can’t offer you something to eat? I’m not sure what your kind enjoy, but I’m sure we can find something.”

Will glances at me, no doubt surprised to be outed, but I keep my eyes on the ceiling. “Um, no thank you, Mrs. Alexander, but I’m much obliged for the offer.”

Nana smiles. “What lovely manners you have, Agent Price.” She glances at me. “It’s so rare in the young.”

Oh barf.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Will says, blushing.

Not to be upstaged, Oliver says, “You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Alexander. Not just the decor, which reminds me of my year in Arizona at the turn of the century, but I can feel the glow of happiness radiating from the walls. It is no wonder your granddaughter is such a well-adjusted, thoughtful woman. She obviously had a spectacular role model in you.”

Oh projectile barf.

“Thank you, Oliver,” a beaming Nana says. She lowers herself onto the couch next to Will. “Call me Liz. Both of you.”

Oliver glances at me with triumph blasting from his smile. I narrow my eyes at him. “And we do apologize for our unexpected intrusion,” Oliver says, turning his attention back to Nana, “and for fright-
ening you.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” she says, patting Will’s hand. “I’m just so glad that there’s someone out there looking out for my Honey Bea.”

“Your Honey Bea can look out for herself,” I say.

“Still. She just told me tonight what you all do. Needless to say, I’m very worried.”

“Naturally,” Oliver says. “But your granddaughter is one of our greatest assets. There is not a soul alive today I would rather have at my side when danger strikes. She is resourceful, level headed, and creative when most would crumble. She has saved my life on more than one occasion. You should be very proud.”

Nana squeezes Oliver’s hand. “Thank you.”

Will’s gaze drops to the floor as he sips his coffee. The look of defeat. He should know by now not to attempt a battle of charm against Oliver. It’s like a toddler challenging a kung fu master to a fight. I’d feel rotten for him if I wasn’t so darn angry right now.

Nana releases Oliver’s hand. “Now, where are you two staying while you’re in town? I can make up the spare room, but we only have the one I’m afraid. We might be able to squeeze your coffin in there as well but … you do sleep in a coffin, right?”

“On occasion.”

“Well then—”

“They. Are. Not. Staying. Here,” I say.

“Beatrice, they’re our guests.”

“I don’t care!” I shout. “They’re leaving tonight.”

“But if you’re in danger—”

“I’m not in danger! I took care of it!”

Will clears his throat. “It is very nice of you to offer, Liz, but we’ve already reserved some rooms at the Marriott. We’ll be staying there. We don’t want to impose.”

“Too late,” I mutter.

Nana shoots me another glare. “Well, if you change your minds, the offer is open.”

“Thank you,” Will says.

“Well then,” Nana says as she stands, “I’ll let you have some privacy to talk shop.”

Both men stand as she does. “Thank you,” Will says.

Oliver takes her hand and kisses it. “It was an honor to finally meet you.”

Nana’s face flushes red. “You as well.”

I push myself off the wall I’ve been leaning against and pull Nana away. “Okay, Don Juan,” I say, rolling my eyes. I usher my grandmother out of the room.

“Pleasant dreams, Liz,” Oliver calls.

Nana and I walk to her bedroom. “You know, for monsters, they are very nice. Handsome too. I never would have guessed about their afflictions.” She steps into her bedroom but turns back around. “And I’m sorry. For earlier tonight. It was … all just a shock.”

“I know. There’s nothing to forgive.”

“I still want to have a long talk about this.”

“I know. Tomorrow, okay?”

She kisses my cheek. “Good night. And be nice. They’re here because they care about you. Quite a bit from what I can tell.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Between their mental torture sessions. I kiss her cheek. “Night.”

When I return to the living room, Oliver is pacing around the room, looking at pictures on the mantle, and Will is still on the couch with his leg twitching. He reminds me of a child waiting in the principal’s office. Oliver picks up a picture. “Is this you? Pink is not your color.”

I snatch the photo of me at homecoming in an ugly pink dress from his hand. “Give me that! Don’t touch my stuff.” I put the photo back. “What the hell are you two doing here? I told you not to come. I distinctly remember the words
do not come
leaving my mouth. And yet, here you are. In my house. On my vacation. Flirting with my grandmother. What the eff?”

“You called in a potential threat,” Will says. “You were alone. Policy dictates—”

“Oh, shut up, Will! God! You know,
him
,” I say, gesturing to Oliver, “I can almost understand showing up as this was
all his fault
, but why on God’s”—Oliver flinches again, as I wanted him to—“green earth are you here? I didn’t call you! I don’t need or want you here!”

“That is precisely what I told him,” Oliver says.

“Zip it, Oliver! You’re lucky I didn’t Mace you at the door!”

Will rises, the twitch in his leg spreading all over his body. I can feel his anger and frustration on my skin. “I will not apologize for following protocol.”

“Cease with your idiotic protocol,” Oliver snaps. “We all know why you are really here. Be a man and just bloody admit it!”

Like a wild animal, Will lunges at Oliver and I barely have enough time to push the men apart with my mind before the fists, fangs, and claws start flying. Obviously my absence has done nothing to improve relations between them. “Stop it!” I scream. “This is my grandmother’s house, not a wrestling arena!”

“But—” Will says.

“But nothing! Will, go wait outside and cool off! I’m separating you two. Go! Now!”

Will glares at me but does as I say, stalking out of the room. When I look back at Oliver, he’s smiling in triumph again. I literally slap the smile off his face. Shocked, he touches his stinging cheek. “You—”

“Shut up,” I say. “I swear to the man above, you say another cutesy word, I will shove a chair leg into your chest.”