Dead Is The New Black. Harper Allen
part of my job description, no? You could have dropped by the Hot Box anytime, but maybe hanging out in an alleyway is more your idea of fun.”
“Frankly, it is,” I shot back. “You just said it yourself—when you’re at the Hot Box you’re working, not ready to chill with your sis over a couple of cocktails. Besides, I still remember it as it was when Zena owned it. You nearly died there, Kat.”
“Yes, but she didn’t,” Megan said evenly. “Zena did. So forgive me if I don’t buy your sudden sensitivity, Tashya. I think the truth is that you’re having way too much fun cutting loose for the first time in your life and you don’t care that walking away from your family is the price. I guess we should be thankful that you haven’t totally embraced your vamphood.” She paused. “So far,” she added harshly. “I never want to have to hunt you down, sis, so don’t do anything that might make that happen. Let’s leave, Kat. I told you we were wasting our time trying to talk to her.”
I stared at her as she strode to the door, feeling as though she’d just slapped me in the face. Then I looked quickly away, hoping that my blubathon at Kathy Lehman’s had depleted my tear ducts for the evening, and realizing it hadn’t when I felt a sharp prickle behind my eyelids. Strangely enough, it wasn’t Megan’s barely veiled threat of staking me that hurt most, it was her attitude. She was trying her hardest to convince Kat and Darkheart that I wasn’t worth attempting a Heal.
She was trying too hard, I realized a heartbeat later. Even as I wondered why she was in such a hurry to hustle Kat and my grandfather out before the three of them could attempt what they’d obviously come here to do, Darkheart addressed me for the first time since he’d arrived.
“Is much talk of Queen Vampyr among those you meet?” His question was abrupt and his gaze on me was sharp. “Perhaps tonight you hear rumors, da?”
“Sorry, nyet,” I informed him. “I mean, Zena was a big deal to us, sure, but after her death the ordinary Joe Vamp in Maplesburg got on with his undead life.” I remembered Trudy and Cindy. “Her style sense lives on, though. Does that count?”
“Not Zena, the new queen.” Megan turned from the apartment door, her hand slipping from the doorknob. Her voice was low, as if she was reluctant to speak at all. “Lady Jasmine.”
“The Cruel,” added Kat in the same reluctant tone.
I rolled my eyes. “What’s with these queen vamps? Zena billed herself as ‘the Horrible,’ now Jasmine’s calling herself ‘the Cruel’—I mean, talk about shameless self-promotion—”
“She does not call herself cruel,” Darkheart interrupted. “She has earned that name from others.”
“And comparing Zena to her is like comparing a housecat to a saber-toothed tiger,” Megan said bleakly. “Except for what Cyrus told us in his letter we don’t know much about her, but we know she’s one of the strongest vampyrs in existence. And from what Kat learned from a vamp she Healed two nights ago, we also suspect she’s already arrived in Maplesburg.”
“Now I get it.” I looked from one to another—Megan, grim and unsmiling, Kat, her eyes shadowed with concern, Darkheart, his expression closed. I was aware that Dmitri’s ice-blue gaze was still fixed on me but I ignored him. “That’s why you’ve decided to spring an intervention on me. You’re afraid if I run into Ms. SuperVamp I’ll go over to her side, me being so immature and self-involved and everything.” I divided my glare among the three of them. “The answer’s still no. Nyet. Non. Nada. I’m not—”
“Nada means nothing, not no,” Megan said. “And that’s not all you’ve got wrong, brat. We didn’t come here to attempt a Heal on you tonight, we—” Her gaze shifted away, but with a visible effort she forced it to meet mine again. “We came here for the opposite reason.”
“Only way to learn more about new Queen is to have spy in her camp,” Darkheart rumbled. “We need you to stay vampyr, Granddaughter. Your sisters are not happy with plan, but—”
“Damn straight I’m not happy with the plan. In case you’ve forgotten, what’s at stake here is Tashya’s soul!” Megan exploded, swinging toward Darkheart. “She’s no match for either Lady Jasmine or her first lieutenant!”
“Oh, right, nobody’s worthy of going up against the bad guys except you.” I loaded my tone with sarcasm. “You seem to have forgotten that I’ve dusted more than a few vamps in my time, Meggypoo, including some of Zena’s toughest—” I stopped suddenly, a terrible suspicion filling me. “First lieutenant?” I asked in a small voice.
“One of cadre of Revolutionary War soldiers Jasmine turned the last time she was in Maplesburg, over two hundred years ago,” Dmitri butted in. “Man is charming, handsome and irresistible, but is big mistake to let that fool you.”
His gaze went glacier-cold. “Heath Lockridge is one of most dangerous vampyrs in existence. We must kill him soon as possible.”
Chapter 4
I nearly blew it right then and there. “What total merde, to borrow a phrase of Kat’s,” I said with a disbelieving laugh. “Heath Lockridge, one of the most dangerous vamps in existence? The man’s a dream come true—polite, gorgeous, and that adorable kind-of-English accent he has is a whole lot sexier than some I could mention.” I glanced scornfully in Dmitri’s direction before returning my attention to Megan and Kat. “Sorry, ladies, you’ve obviously made a huge mistake. Even if you’re right and Lady Jasmine’s in Maplesburg, there’s no way Heath’s her first lieutenant.”
“And how would you know?” Megan asked in the new I’m-a-Daughter-so-don’t-fuck-with-me tone of voice she’d been using way too often lately.
I gave her a pitying smile. “Because I—” I stopped, choking back the met him part of my sentence and realizing I’d just walked into a trap.
Although I suppose if you’re going with the definition of a trap being something that’s set by someone, it wasn’t actually a trap, since a few seconds ago Meg and Kat hadn’t had a clue that I’d actually made the acquaintance of the dishy Heath Lockridge. In other words, I guess you could say it was more like me opening my big mouth without thinking first, which is something I’ve been doing from about the age of eleven months, apparently. According to Grammie, the day her three granddaughters learned to talk, Megan’s first word was “Mama,” Kat spoke a moment later by uttering “Da-Da” and I went redfaced with rage at the attention being lavished on my sisters and bellowed “Ka-Ka!” at the top of my lungs. And that’s pretty much how I’ve been ever since, Meg and Kat being such tough acts to compete with.
But this time my talk-first-think-later impulse had potentially direr results than usual, like possibly leading Megan and her ever-handy stake to Heath. I had to go into damage-control mode, and fast.
“Because I’m a patriot,” I said icily. “I refuse to believe that anyone noble enough to fight for our country’s independence would have switched their allegiance to some titled English vamp-tramp.”
“Nice save, sweetie,” Kat said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “But how do you know this Heath Lockridge is gorgeous and polite? Come to that, how do you know how he sounds when he speaks?”
She had me there. I had no alternative but to use my most infallible weapon, the one that always defeats Meg and Kat—my dumb-Tash act. I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “Hello, you saw the movie when I did, right? The one where all the Colonials were sexy and good-looking and wore loose, white shirts unbuttoned down to their six-pack abs, and all the Britishers were haughty and really mean and sweated a lot in red wool? Do you think Holly-wood just makes up that stuff?”
The suspicion in Kat’s gaze was replaced with amusement. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Megan’s grip on her stake relax, and when she spoke her tone was tinged with exasperation. “News-flash, brat—the movies aren’t real life.