Fashionably Dead (43 page)

“Julie,” I called out to my sister, spotting her on the other side of the room. That sister thing was going to take some getting used to. She was surrounded by a group of well-dressed people wearing hats. They looked like they were going to the Kentucky Derby. How odd, they definitely weren’t locals. She was talking to them with great animation.

“Hey Julie,” I tried again. She glanced my way and smile-grimaced. Lovely.

Who were those people?
I could only see their backs from this angle. There were about thirty of them and they were all riveted by my big, blonde bitchy sister. Maybe she was more fun than I’d given her credit for. Maybe I shouldn’t be so mean. Maybe she was tight on funds due to the extravagant shindig she was throwing for our mother and that was why she clipped my fingernail polish and God knows what else. Maybe she was desperate.

A waiter passed with a tray of hors d’oeuvres in one hand and flutes filled with champagne on a tray in the other.
What the fu . . . ?
We catered the memorial? No wonder everybody and their brother showed up. Free booze in a dry county!

“Are you okay?” a small voice asked.

I turned expecting to find Paris standing there, but it was a man. A small, slightly built, delicious little man who was definitely not human stood in front of me.

“I’m . . . um . . . fine, and you?” I was so taken with this creature.

He smiled at me and I felt a wash of tingly Magic rain over me. “I’m fine too,” he giggled and took my hand, putting gentle pressure on it. A warm and floaty feeling danced through my body making me sigh with pleasure.

“Who are you?” I asked, refusing to let him go.

“I’m a friend of Lucinda, your Nana. I have a message for you.”

God, he was such a lovely little thing. I wanted to squeeze him. I knew my jaw had clenched and my lips had pooched out. It was the face I got when I saw a crazy cute baby or puppy. I was itching to pick this little man up and take him home with me and feed him and play with him and dress him up and . . .

“I’m sorry, but what are you?” I didn’t want to be rude, but I was this close to grabbing him, cuddling him to my bosom and showering him with kisses.

He tilted his head which made him even more adorable. “I’m a Sprite and I only have about thirty seconds left in this dimension.”

“Oookay,” I pinched my leg to make sure I was awake.

“Remember,” the edible little Sprite said. “Beyonce is a genius.”

“Beyonce is a genius?” What the hell was he talking about? “Do you mean Beyonce the singer or my Beyonce—the Demon?” What kind of cryptic bullshit message was that?

He pursed his precious little lips and shrugged his delightfully tiny shoulders and disappeared in a shimmering mist. I looked around to see if anyone noticed. Nope, they were too busy with the free booze and pigs-in-a-blanket.

“What did that little bastard want?” Samuel whispered in my ear, startling me. “Those damn Sprites can be rude and disgusting. Did he grab your ass?”

“No.” I tried unsuccessfully to suppress my laughter at the thought. “He was a total gentleman and gave me a message from my Nana, but it was bizarre and I don’t get it.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Beyonce is a genius’.” I shook my head.

“To the left, to the left, ‘
Single Ladies’
, ‘
Crazy in Love’
with Jay Z, Beyonce?” Samuel asked without a hint of irony.

His knowledge of popular music delighted me. Who knew Samuel was a Beyonce fan? “No,” I replied, “I think he meant my little Demon baby, but it’s still useless. Samuel, I had the worst urge to squeeze that little man. What the hell was that?”

“It’s the Sprite charm. Those little shits look all cuddly and sweet, but they bite. Never, ever put your fingers near their mouth,” he warned.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“He seemed to like me.”

“Goddamn.” Samuel shook his head in amazement. “Sprites hate Vampyres. They’re not fond of other groups who bite. You are most definitely the Chosen One. I don’t think there’s a species yet that hasn’t been attracted to you.” He began to blend back into the crowd, but not before he saluted me with his middle finger. “Keep your eye on the King,” he said wiggling his finger. I didn’t even try to hide my laughter as I gave him the finger back.

I had kept my eye on the King since we arrived. I knew where he stood at every moment. I had not let him out of my line of vision once. Even when I reversed Brad Pitt, I could still see the King.

“Don’t forget, I’m quite the killing machine myself.” The man in question grinned at me and discreetly placed his hand on my stomach.

“I know.” I grinned back, covering his hand with my own. “Can the humans see you guys?”

“Yes, but we’ve dulled our appearances. We’ve also cloaked our scent so the Rogues would not recognize that there are other Vampyres here.”

“Could the Rogues be cloaking themselves too?” I asked, unnerved by the thought.

“No,” The King assured me, “they would need guidance from a Vampyre at least five hundred years old or older. It’s possible, but highly unlikely.”

I felt my tension subside. That was a relief. “Well, so far, so good,” I smiled.

He squeezed my hand. “I’ll be near the front entrance with Cathy. The only other way in or out is behind that . . . What is that?” the King asked, indicating the sheet covered lump on the other side of the room.

“I’m not sure. I think my sister Julie had a monument built.”

“Dear God,” the King muttered and I laughed.

“My sentiments exactly. Look, we’ll stay for another hour or so and then we can leave.”

“Whatever makes you happy, child.” He touched my face and glided towards the front door.

I shook a bunch of hands and hugged a lot of people as I tried to get closer to Julie and the sheet covered monstrosity that everyone kept inquiring about. I saw Paris and Venus watch the crowd on my left. Sir James and Gemma watched on my right. Samuel had the back door covered and the King and Cathy were at the front entrance.

Ethan, can you hear me?

Are you all right?
He sounded tense. I felt bad for worrying him, but I needed to be here. I needed to pay tribute to a woman I loved despite the fact she didn’t return it.

I’m fine and so is the King. Anything unusual outside?

No.
He sounded relieved.

I met a Sprite,
I told him.

Did he grab your ass?

No. Samuel asked me the same thing,
I laughed.

Those guys are pricks, very sneaky. They use that cute thing to take advantage of women and get into their pants.

Ewww,
I groaned,
that’s foul.

Yes
,
he agreed.
Now focus and pay attention in there. I love you.

I love you too
.
I smiled and scanned the room. My eyes were drawn to Julie who looked shaken and pale, even for a Vampyre. She was staring in the direction of the entrance. I quickly looked at the front door. Only Cathy and the King. Did she know them? She caught my eye, pointed at me and mouthed
Don’t fuck up
, and then made her way to the back exit. God, she was definitely more my mother’s daughter than I was.

I tried to get over there to see if she was all right, but the crowd was against me.
Ethan, my sister just left the building through the back exit. See if you can stop her and introduce yourself. She looked upset.

Holy Mother of God,
Ethan gasped.
What does your sister look like?

Tall, blonde, beautiful, Russian-looking . . . She’s wearing a red dress,
I told him.

Oh fuck no
,
he ground out.
She’s my . . .

What?
What was he saying?
She’s supposed to be dead, for five hundred years.
He sounded furious.

My stomach dropped and I started to shake. What was he talking about? My sister was supposed to be dead? No, wait . . . His sister was supposed to be dead. Is Julie his sister? No, of course not. His sister’s name was Juliet. Oh shit, was his sister my sister? Did I mate with my brother?

Ethan!
I was panicked. I was trying to put this together, but my brain was shutting down to protect me from something big and ugly.

I’m going after her.
His voice conveyed his fury.

That was the last thing I heard from him before all hell broke loose.

Chapter 40

The Rogues did have someone over five hundred years old to help cloak their scent. They had Julie, or rather Juliet. They also had hats to disguise the fact that they all resembled me.

It happened in slow motion, like a bad, bloody horror movie. Juliet left the building. The hat-wearing Rogues let out inhuman screams, the doors magically bolted themselves shut and people started dying.

Glass shattered and rained down from above as Heathcliff and the rest of the Elite Guard stormed the building. Unable to get through the doors and unwilling to give up, they pulled a Paris Hilton and came blasting through the windows. We were outnumbered, but not by much.

A dagger ripped into my thigh before I had the wherewithal to activate my shield. It hurt like hell and destroyed yet another piece of my Prada wardrobe. Do not mess with my friends, myself or my Prada. I quickly touched my chest and a burst of Glitter Magic engulfed me. Without a thought, I grabbed the dagger from the offending Rogue, plunged it into her heart and twisted, killing her instantly. One down . . . a lot to go.

Shit, where was the King?
My eyes frantically searched the room. Oh thank God, he was surrounded by five Elite Guards. He was safe.

I watched in abject horror as two Rogues ripped the arms off of the Police Chief and ate him. Niecey was crying hysterically and crouched down in the middle of the room with Charlie, frozen in fear. I grabbed them and tossed them to Venus, who flew to the windows with my friends and outside to safety. Thus the routine began. Try to mortally wound a Rogue or toss a mortal out of the window.

The people from my town ran around like bumper cars, not knowing who to trust. They were fighting the good Vampyres who were trying to shield them from death. It was a total clusterfuck.

One would think the Rogues would be gunning for me, with a ten million dollar bounty on my head, but they weren’t. I wasn’t safe from harm, but they were trying to kill everything, not just me. They were destroying anything they could get their hands on or their teeth into.

At least the humans were starting to understand the windows were the key to staying alive. They began to willingly go to the Elite Guard who were closest to the walls.

Four Rogues were feasting on a pile of still living mortals they’d trapped in a corner. The screams and moans were brutal to hear. Chills shot through me as I spotted Martha and Jane trying to fight their way out of that corner. Martha’s face was covered in blood and Jane was dragging her by her hair trying to get her to safety.

Goddamn it, I hated those women, but nobody was going to kill them while I stood there and watched. Rage boiled in my veins. I pressed hard on my Angel Wing tattoo and hurtled myself towards the corner at a speed that rendered me invisible to the human eye.

With my bare hands, I ripped the head off of the Rogue who was trying to choke Jane. He dropped to the ground with a thud. I quickly unsheathed my katana and beheaded two others while the fourth tried to run. I pivoted and shot silver bullets from my fingertips completely shredding the top half of that Rogue Vamp.

“Holy Jesus Christ,” Jane shrieked. “What in the hell are you?”

Martha lay practically dead on the floor. Jane approached me fearlessly and examined my fangs and blazing green eyes. I stood silently.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she wheezed, “you’re a Vampyre.” She shook her head and grabbed me for support, “A fake boob-ed, slutty creature of the night. Bless your hea . . . ” She collapsed at my feet.

I realized her entire back had been ripped open and she was bleeding out. Son of a bitch, I had always envisioned killing them, but it was just a fantasy, not something I actually wanted to happen. I looked at the two old bags dying on the floor in front of me and a hot flash of grief gripped me.

“Paris,” I yelled. “Get over here.”

We stared at the gals for a moment. I could feel my nausea bouncing around. I had a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was my baby or the decision I had just made.

“They’re dying,” Paris whispered

“Change them,” I said through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“Change them,” I barked. “You care about them, right?”

“Right.” Her eyes lit up with joy.

“You’ll be in charge of them, not me,” I bit out and pressed hard on the bridge of my nose wondering where in the hell my self-preservation instincts had gone.

Paris grinned. “Yes.”