vampires: months of coordination, selection, and a carefully composed text that had been translated into a myriad of languages. The Weres would probably slouch in front of the television cameras with beers in their paws and dare the world to deny them citizenship.
“Then delay the wedding until then,” Dahlia urged, trying to ignore all these side issues and stick to the main point.
“Sorry, no can do,” Taffy said.
It took Dahlia a minute to grasp the meaning of Taffy’s words. “Why not?” she asked. She made her lips manufacture a smile. “I know you’re not pregnant.” Dead bodies, however animated they looked, could not produce live children.
“No, but Don’s ex is.” Taffy’s face was grim as she looked down at Dahlia’s stunned face. “We have to get hitched before she has the baby, or she can appear before the Were council and demand they reinstate her marriage. Don hasn’t had a child with anyone else, and you know how the Weres are about the purebloods reproducing with each other.”
Dahlia could not do something so gauche as gape, but she came close. “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” she said weakly.
“None of us knows much about the Were culture,” Taffy said. “Our arrogance keeps us ignorant.” The two stepped off the curb to cross the mouth of the alley. The bright lights of the bar were only half a block away.
Dahlia brightened. “I’ll kill her,” she said. There, she’d solved the problem. “Then you can hold off on your marriage, or cancel it altogether. No need to get married, right? What does this bitch look like?”
“Like this,” said a sweet voice from the shadows, and a young woman leaped out, the knife in her hand glinting in the streetlight. But as fast as the Were stabbed at Taffy, Dahlia jumped to intercept it. She deflected the knife with her bare hands, but not quickly enough. It lodged between Dahlia’s ribs, and the strong Were woman began to twist the blade. Just in time, Dahlia gripped the Were’s wrist, and neatly broke it before the gesture could be completed.
The woman’s screams drew an outrush of Weres from the bar. They circled Dahlia, growling and snapping, sure that the vampire had attacked first. Dahlia herself was standing very still, trying to keep from shrieking. That would have been unseemly, in Dahlia’s opinion, and she was a vampire who lived by a code.
Taffy was so shocked that she didn’t react with the speed one expected of a vampire. Between trying to explain to her fiancé what had happened and positioning herself to slap away the hands that would have struck Dahlia, Taffy was too occupied to evaluate Dahlia’s plight. Oddly enough, it was Todd who calmed things down by silencing the crowd with a yell that was perilously close to a howl.
Into the hush he said, “Keep all humans away, first of all.” There was a flurry of activity as the few humans who’d been drawn by the ruckus were hustled off, diverted with some story that would hardly make sense when it was reconsidered.
“What happened?” Don asked Taffy. Several female Weres were kneeling on the ground around the moaning ex-wife. The Amazonian Were called, “The vamp bitch attacked Amber and broke her arm!” A chorus of growls swelled the throats of the werewolves.
Dahlia concentrated on her breathing. Though vamps healed with amazing speed, the initial injury hurt just as much as it would any other being. The blood dripped from her hands, but it was slowing. She held them out in the light, and the crowd murmured. Taffy exclaimed, “She did this for me!” and then became quite still. Her voice shaking with a very unvamplike quiver, Taffy said, “Dahlia protected me with her life. Not exactly in the bridesmaid description.”
Don was clearly conflicted between the woman on the ground (whom Dahlia could see now was what she thought of as medium pregnant), his distraught fiancée, and Dahlia.
“Dahlia, what do you say?” he asked harshly.
“I say, the fucking bitch stabbed me,” Dahlia said clearly. “And would someone please pull out this damn knife before I heal around it? I mean, just any old time will do, unless you want to moan some more over Little Miss Homicide there.” It was convenient that none of them had heard Dahlia offer to take care of Don’s ex a few moments earlier. It gave her the definite moral high ground. Pregnant women, after all, were revered by almost everyone, both supernatural and human, and Dahlia needed