Chapter 51
PSSt.”
“So how’d you become a vam—”
“Pssst!”
I sighed. “Excuse me, but my little sister can be very rude and selfish at times. She’s the cross I must bear when I’m not time traveling all over and saving the world. Worlds, maybe. Maybe I should get a plaque for all this grueling world saving.”
“Pssst!”
“Two plaques. What?” I fell back a couple of steps so Laura and I were walking abreast. “What is it?”
“I think we should go.”
“How come?” I was genuinely surprised.
“You fixed it so Tina will turn him. If there was a way to utterly destroy the future—our present—you’ve made sure we’ll return to a smoking crater where Grand Avenue used to be. It’s time to go.”
“But I need to make sure he gets taken care of.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I gaped. Laura wasn’t normally this dumb. “Because—because I have to! What are you talking about, why?”
“You’re only saying that because it’s him. Your love is clouding your usually awful long view even more than usual.”
“I can’t just gaily hop back to hell without knowing he’s going to be ... uh ...” Okay probably wasn’t the right word. Set on his loveless track toward cold vengeance, enduring decades of isolation and loneliness until I pratfall into his life just sounded weird. “Look, I see your point, but—”
“Shhhh!” Laura hissed, grabbing my hand and yanking me off the dusty road. I knew it, I knew it! I was inevitably headed for a ditch tonight. “Look!”
We were cowering off the gravel road, sort of hunched down in the shallow ditch, and I could see Tina had caught up to Sinclair.
“What’s she—?”
“Shhh! And duh, clearly she’s talking to him.”
“... dreadfully sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Sinclair said, and I shivered. He sounded like a robot. An incredibly depressed robot. “They’re gone. She’s gone.”
“Eric, I promise you, something will be done. These men won’t get away with—”
Sinclair flinched. “Men? I thought—I thought she’d been raped—and there was an accident—?”
“There is—there are more things at work here than you can know.”
“Explain them to me.”
“Eric—”
“Right now.”
I started to cheer up. Now he was starting to sound like the Sinclair I loved to loathe. Or loathed to love. He just needed a mission. All those Death Wish movies couldn’t be wrong.
“Eric, there’s no time. I need to get on their trail tonight. I’m only here for the funerals. But I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.”
“Was it another vampire?”
Tina didn’t speak for a moment, and Laura and I traded glances. I could tell she was rattled that he’d just come out with it like that. Are you a vampire? Are the stories about monsters true? What happened to you? And what happened to my family?
And how much of it is my fault, for never questioning anything?
“I—yes. How did you know?”
Eric, embarked upon his last night of life, started to laugh. I had never heard him laugh like that and hoped never to hear it again.
“How did I know? How did I know? My God, a better question would be when did Erin and I not know? Our grandmother’s best friend? Who was always beautiful and clever, who never lost her wits or her looks?”
“Pretty big clue,” I admitted, and Laura nodded.
“A friend who never seemed to leave her teenage years, who always seemed to relate to the elders far more easily than people her own age. People who looked her own age,” he qualified.
“You never—”
“Our mother told us, when we started asking questions. Before we were invested in the Sinclair family secret. She said you were an angel. A dark angel, sent to protect us and watch over us.” His hands flashed, and suddenly he was gripping Tina’s shoulders and shouting into her face, “An angel!”
“She lied, of course,” Tina said calmly, as if she wasn’t being tossed around like a cocktail shaker on a gravel road in a small town in the middle of nowhere in 1920 (probably). “She lied because she couldn’t reconcile the truth with her religious upbringing. She couldn’t understand how a vampire could also be a friend of the family. She couldn’t understand how a creature of darkness and blood could enjoy the company of farmers, could babysit and take vacations with you. Could love you.
“And rather than question it, she created a convenient fairy tale, as her mother had done for her, and her mother before her.”
“Then why couldn’t you save them?” he cried, and his voice cracked like the adolescent he still was. Though I was betting nineteen years old in the (maybe) 1920s was the equivalent of thirty-five in the twenty-first century.
“Because I’m a vampire, not a goddess, and we’re not infallible. The reverse, if anything. Our appetites often lead us to trouble. Even our destruction. The only guarantee our state brings is freedom from aging bodies, never-ending thirst, and great strength and speed. Those are helpful much of the time. But they aren’t a promise. They are no guarantee.”
“You’re off, then. After the killers.”
“Yes.”
“Not by yourself. I won’t leave ugly work like this to a woman.”
Ahhh, there was the charming chauvinist I often fantasized about strangling. And not in an auto-erotic way, either.
To her credit, Tina didn’t go into gales of humiliating laughter. “I appreciate your concern, my dear. But I have been involved in ugly work long, long before you were born.”
“Exactly. That’s why you’re going to make me one of you.” Sinclair took a deep breath. “And teach me. Everything. You’ll show me everything. And they’ll pay. They will pay and pay, and when I’ve finished with them ... in time ... there may be more to live for than vengeance and a living death.”
Another short silence, and I could have sworn Tina glanced at us pseudo-hiding in the ditch. “Yes, that ... that seems to be the thing to do, doesn’t it? Eric, you must understand—”
“Vengeance. I understand vengeance. If I’m damned because of it, then so be it.”
Again a glance in our direction. “I’m not sure damned is ... exactly ... the appropriate word.”
“We should go,” Laura whispered. “There’s nothing else for us to screw up.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
I didn’t know. I couldn’t figure it out myself, much less explain to Laura. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be a personal disaster to leave just now. But I didn’t ... know ... why.
“Let me tell you what it will be like.”
He made a curt gesture. “Irrelevant. There’s nothing I wouldn’t endure for vengeance. Losing my soul is the least of it.”
You won’t, though! I almost shouted. Soulless was so not how I’d describe Sinclair. He came off as chilly and indifferent, until you got his pants off. I mean, got to know him.
“The ... act itself isn’t unpleasant. You’ll get tired. You’ll sleep. And, as I plan to steal your body, you needn’t worry about waking in a coffin six feet in the earth. I cannot tell you how upsetting that is,” Tina muttered.
Jeez. I could imagine. I was learning more about Tina in one night than I had in three years.
“But you’ll be ... disoriented. You’ll—it might take a while to ... to learn ... how to be strong ...”
I leaped to my feet. Strong! That’s why we were still here!
I scrambled out of the ditch. Laura lunged but, since I was in superspeedy-vamp mode, missed by a mile (almost literally). I was moving so efficiently, Sinclair was only now starting to turn toward the racket I was making. And Tina, who could have stopped me, seemed frozen in surprise, or maybe disbelief.
Eric didn’t turn quickly enough. I nailed him from behind, rode him all the way into the gravel, and sank my canines into his neck.
Undead and Unfinished
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