Bite. Part 11
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"...and they're doing really well, pretty well, I mean, they'll still kill and eat anybody who gets too close, anybody human I mean, but I'm keeping a pretty close watch and, um, I guess that's all."
The girl speaking was smaller than Sophie, which was pretty d.a.m.n small. She had red hair and the skinniest, palest arms and legs Liam had ever seen. She was wearing a pleated black skirt and a white blouse, and little white socks and loafers, looking for all the world like a schoolgirl. In fact, she probably was a schoolgirl. Didn't look a day over fifteen.
"Very good, Alice," a deep voice said. Liam looked, then looked again. He'd thought it was a shadowy corner, but there was a man sitting in a tall wingbacked chair, a big man, tall and scary-looking and Liam wanted to turn around, cool as a cuke, and walk right of there and back to the truck and then drive all the way back to Embarra.s.s, checking the rearview the entire time. "Once again, I must ask if you wish to be relieved of your duties. You've been at this for several months and-"
"Majesty, I love this job, and I wish to keep on doing it. Before I wanted to because, you know, with the new, uh, regime, I wasn't really sure of my place. So I figured, you know. But now...I-I kind of like them," she finished, staring down at her shoes.
"Them?" the man asked, distaste clear in his tone.
"Happy, Skippy, Trippy, Sandy, Benny, Clara, Jane, and George." She smiled weakly. "George's my favorite."
"You've named them?"
Liam wondered who them was. He b.u.mped into something, and he suddenly realized he'd backed all the way up into the door, totally unconsciously. He told himself to get a grip. They were just vampires, for Christ's sake.
He forced himself to look around the room while the vampires talked about them, tearing his gaze away from the scary guy sitting in the corner. There were three other people in the room; the first one he noticed was a pet.i.te, great-looking blonde standing behind and slightly to the left of the guy's chair. Even from across the room, he could see how dark and pretty her big eyes were, fixed now on the girl. And she was so small, she easily fit behind the corner chair. The guy seemed totally unaware of her, but he'd c.o.c.k his head when she'd bend down to whisper to him, and besides, Liam had the feeling no one snuck up on this guy.
There was also a dark-green couch (he supposed some fancy magazine would call it "moss green" or whatever) in the middle of the room, and two women were sitting on it, playing checkers. The one closest to him was a good-looking black gal (s.h.i.+t, he'd never seen this many gorgeous people outside of a Hollywood movie). She was way too thin, with her hair so tightly pulled back he could practically see her skull throbbing, but her skin was a gorgeous dark brown and she had a look about her he really liked, as if she didn't take a lot of s.h.i.+t.
The other one...he glanced at her, and then his gaze came back, as it had with the man.
She was as cute as a bug's b.u.t.t, as Sophie would have said (when she got excited, Liam noticed she mixed up her metaphors). Her hair was blond, but much shorter than the other woman's, and the light tossed reddish glints into it. She was sitting cross-legged, in tan shorts and a navy blue sweater b.u.t.toned to her chin. She wore shoes the color of her sweater, shoes that had a little heel and emphasized the long, pretty shape of her foot. She was watching the other woman's hands and swung her foot while she waited her turn, occasionally peeking at her shoes and smiling.
She looked up at him (and, presumably, Sophie), and he saw her eyes were a cross between green and blue, the color of the ocean in a postcard. Her chin was pointed, giving her a sharp, foxlike appearance, and her cheekbones were high, emphasizing the prettiness of her eyes and the smoothness of her brow. He had an odd urge to stroke her forehead, which mercifully pa.s.sed. It helped to glance back at Sophie now and again.
"Hey," she said casually, turning the full force of her sea-colored gaze on him, and he nearly fell down. Staring at her was like staring at the door to heaven. It promised delights beyond compare...but didja really want to leave everything you ever knew behind?
"So, anyway, Your Majesties," the schoolgirl was saying, "the Fiends are just fine, healthy as can be...I guess...and they-"
The spectacular blonde on the couch stood so fast, he didn't actually see it. One second she was leaning over, about to get kinged, the next she was standing and pointing (uh-oh) at Sophie, and the redhead was cowering away from her.
"What..." she began, "is on...your shoes?"
Sophie looked down at her feet, then back up. "Ah...Your Majesty, my name is Dr. Sophie Tourneau, and this is-may I present my...uh...my friend, Mr. Liam-"
"Seriously. It looks like you plowed through-G.o.d, is that s.h.i.+t? Is that s.h.i.+t on your shoes?"
"Elizabeth," the man in the corner sighed.
"Oh, boy," the black gal said. "Here we go."
"They were, uh, a gift, uh..." Sophie sounded completely rattled and Liam almost smiled. Shoes, they were talking about shoes, of all the dumbest things! "And I-I'm a vet, an animal doctor, and sometimes I wear them on the job...and...and..."
"So you're telling me it is s.h.i.+t?" Liam thought the blonde was going to pa.s.s out. "Jesus Christ in an Easter parade!" Everyone (except him) visibly flinched. "How could you...do that? I mean, that's why G.o.d made Payless Shoes. You want to tromp around in the s.h.i.+t? I-I-" She put a hand to her brow, and Liam noticed she had pretty hands with long fingers. The nails were done in that what-do-you-call it, with the white tips. French manicure. "You just can't-can't come in here-dressed like that-your poor feet-"
"Unless it's really important." The woman standing behind the fella piped up. It was the first time she'd spoken loud enough for him to hear. "As I'm sure it is."
"Aren't you French? You sound French. Aren't French people supposed to have style?"
"Uh-huh," the black gal said. "Also, African-Americans have rhythm, and white girls can't dance. Especially you, white girl."
"You stay out of this." The blonde-surely this wasn't the queen?-suddenly collapsed onto the couch, nearly kicking over the checkers game. "Well, I can't be expected to listen to this! The whole thing is stupid anyway, I was totally against it-"
"We know," everybody but Liam and Sophie said.
"...and thought it was, just, so ma.s.sively lame, but I put up with it without b.i.t.c.hing-much-and all these dead people trooping through my house-"
"Excuse me," the black lady said, not looking up from the board. "Through my house."
"I told you to quit holding that over my head! Where the h.e.l.l was I?"
"Dead people trooping through your house," Liam said helpfully.
"Right. Right! Thank you. And they're in and out of here like I'm f.u.c.king King Solomon-what, they can't solve their own problems?-and now I gotta see shoes abused and I can't take it!" She threw her arm over her face and lapsed into silence. Finally.
Sophie's mouth was opening and closing like a walleye, but she wasn't saying anything. And all the vampires-he guessed they were all vampires-were staring at them. Except for the guy. He was staring at the blonde and smiling, a little. So finally Liam coughed and said, "Well, there's a bad vampire and he's killing girls up north." Now the guy was looking at him, along with everybody else. Even the blonde was peeking at him from under her arm. "We just, y'know, thought you oughta know."
The queen sat up. "Oh, f.u.c.k."
"Yup," Liam agreed.
"YOU'RE kidding me. Right? You're kidding. I mean, that's nasty. That's just...yerrggh."
"Yup," Liam agreed. He took another drink of his smoothie. They had trooped into an enormous kitchen, the guy had fired up two blenders and brought a ton of fruit and orange juice out of the fridge, and now they were sitting around like old friends, slurping down strawberry smoothies. Except for him. His was strawberry-banana. "That's what we thought. Sohpie figured it out."
"When?" the guy asked. He had introduced himself as Eric Sinclair, but everybody except Jessica (the black gal) called him Majesty or My King or s.h.i.+theap (the s.p.u.n.ky blonde, it appeared, didn't like him). Speaking of the blonde, her name was Betsy and, yup, she was the queen. The other blonde's name was Tina and she was very deferential to s.h.i.+theap and Betsy. Alice, the
schoolgirl, had politely excused herself and left.
"I beg your pardon?" Sophie asked, her gla.s.s rattling as she set it down. She was a little more relaxed than when they'd arrived, but not much. Liam couldn't blame her. It wasn't every day you met a king and queen. Luckily, they weren't his king and queen, so he could be his regular old self. "Your Majesty, did you ask me when?"
"Last night," Liam began, helping her out a little, "we were watching the news and Sophie saw this story and put it all together.
"She's really smart," he added. "Smartest person in Embarra.s.s."
"I'm sure that's true," s.h.i.+theap said, smiling at Sophie, which seemed to calm her down a little.
"Up by Babbitt Lake?" Jessica asked.
Liam chewed a small piece of banana that had escaped the blender's whirring blades. "Yeah, you know it?"
"My dad used to take me fis.h.i.+ng there when I was little."
"Well, we, me and Sophie, live there. She's our vet."
"And you saw this man on the news..." Sinclair prompted.
"...and decided to come up and wreck my night," the queen finished. When they all stared at her, she had the grace to look
embarra.s.sed. "Sorry. That sounded less jerky in my head."
"We didn't see him," Sophie said. "We saw the father of one of the girls on the news. So Liam drove me down-"
"You didn't feel the need to keep this in the, uh, community?" Tina asked.
"She tried," Liam said simply.
There was a short silence, broken by the queen's m.u.f.fled giggle, then Sophie continued. "We drove down and spoke to the girl's
mother. I don't think there's much doubt, or I certainly would not be bothering you with this."
"Ugh! He dates these girls, makes them love him, then dumps them to watch them go all suicidal with despair?"
"Yup."
"What a s.h.i.+t!" Betsy was on her feet. "Let's go up to Embarra.s.s and kick his a.s.s!"
"It's not in Embarra.s.s," Sophie began, but Sinclair interrupted her.
"I quite agree. This behavior is not acceptable in the least. Also, it's messy and people are bound to notice."
"Here we go," Jessica said into her smoothie.
"Messy? It's messy?" The queen looked around, but Jessica and Tina were hurriedly clearing all the empty gla.s.ses off the small
table. Nothing was within throwing reach. "How about, 'He's a s.h.i.+t and we're gonna stake his a.s.s.' How about, 'Those poor girls, let's avenge them.' How about anything besides messy?"
"He did say anything besides messy," Liam pointed out. "He said it wasn't acceptable behavior. Which I guess it's not."
"Dude: so not talking to you." The queen gave him a good glare, so he hung tight to his gla.s.s. "I don't-"
"So, you're the queen of all the vampires, huh?"
That took the wind out of her sails. "Yeah, I guess," she replied, and her shoulders slumped.
"So all the vampires have to do what you say?"
"No," Eric Sinclair said.
"And I'm not a vampire," Jessica said. "I'm just a hanger-on."
"Me, too, I guess," he joked.
"You shut up, too. Everybody shut up. And to answer your question...uh, I'm sorry, your friend told me your name but I-"
"Liam."
"Right. Anyway, they're supposed to, but I don't want 'em to, and a lot of them don't listen anyway."
"But that's not because you're resisting your destiny or anything," Jessica said, smirking at him.
"Jess! Repeat after me: not helpful."
"With all due respect, Your Majesties, shouldn't we be driving north? He could be seducing another girl this minute." Sophie's
expression darkened. "He could be breaking up with another girl this minute."
"He could feel the tip of my shoe up his a.s.s in another minute," the queen vowed, slipping off of her stool. "Jess, you stay here."
"Oh, come on," she protested. "I always miss out on the good stuff."
"If by good you mean hideously dangerous, then yeah, you do. Look, it's vampire business, anyway. And last I looked, you were
alive."
"Then he shouldn't go, either," Jessica said, pointing at Liam.
Bite. Part 11
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Bite. Part 11 summary
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