we’d sit at the smoothie table and try not to notice how Marc wasn’t there. And then we would make a plan. And then we would save the day.
Which would be tricky, given everyone’s new identities. The timeline wasn’t the only thing that had changed.
Garrett, who barely opened his mouth to ask for a new skein of yarn, or whatever they called the units of measurement yarn came in, had learned to lie. Satan, who practically invented lying, had taken to sprinkling some truth in with her usual doses of fibs. Laura, who almost never lied, was learning to leave out important chunks of stories. And I, I’d learned that if I could keep my damned mouth shut once in a while, people would do things or tell me things they hadn’t planned on.
Because, although I was thrilled Antonia (the good one) was alive and back with us, I would never forget that I hadn’t asked for her. I’d asked for something else . . . something that didn’t have a soul and a pulse. Instead of asking for the life of a friend, I’d asked for a thing that couldn’t love me back. And that meant . . .
That meant I was not the hero of the story. In fact, it was looking more and more like Laura was the hero.
So what did that make me?
Exactly.
“I was so happy when we got back from hell. I felt like I’d fixed everything, how fucking dumb could I be?” I was telling this to Sinclair’s chest, because he’d folded me back into his arms. Luckily my nose had healed.
“Shhh, do not do this to yourself.”
“If not me, then who?” I thought that was a better-than-fair question. Who was gonna call the vampire queen on her shit, when even the vampire king deferred to her if she was bitchy enough?
Exactly.
“It will seem so strange here without Marc,” Sinclair mused. “And even stranger to have Antonia back. Once I thought I had seen so much, life could teach me no more. How fucking dumb could that be?”
I had to laugh; I knew how he felt. And he had a good point about Antonia.
Was it always going to be like this? Would I have to give up something wonderful to get something wonderful back? Because I did not sign on for this shit.
No. Because I knew things I hadn’t known before this awful, awful hooray-Thanksgiving-will-soon-be-here, awful month of November.
I knew dead didn’t mean dead.
I knew you could come back. Or the devil could give you back.
Oh, and one more thing. The devil badly, badly needed to stay on my good side.
“Marc’s dead, but he won’t be for long,” I vowed, shaking in Sinclair’s arms. From anguish or fright or rage, I couldn’t tell. Maybe it was all three, a new emotion, one so novel to me I couldn’t identify it. “I’m gonna get Marc back. He didn’t leave a gorgeous corpse behind for no reason . . . he knows I’ll get him back.”
“Elizabeth—”
“I’ll get him back, Sinclair, no matter what I have to do. And no matter who gets in my way.”
“I believe you, my queen, and will help you any way I can.”
“Yes, I know. We’ll get him back and then we’ll all have smoothies and laugh about how worried we were the day he died.”
And the devil help anyone who got in my way. It would have to be the devil.
God, it was clear, was on my side.
EPILOGUE
Dear Betsy,
I’m gone now, but not forever. Couldn’t leave without giving you the scoop, though, so listen up.
First, although you will, don’t blame yourself. Even as I’m writing this I get that it’s a waste of time, but I’m jumping in and trying anyway. Again: don’t blame yourself, dumbass.
I wanted to do this. Frankly, I have inclinations like this all the time. It even runs in my family (along with alcoholism and the ability to make hospital corners). Shit, remember the night we met? I was about to do a swan dive off the hospital roof and you wouldn’t let me. You saved me . . . for a while.
Now I’m saving you.
It’s only fair.
It’s also only fair to tell you that you shouldn’t blame the others, either. In hindsight, letting me spend time alone talking with the dead me seems careless and risky, right? Sure . . . in hindsight.
But it’s not their fault. I only told them the stuff they’d find most helpful, the bare minimum. The stuff that would make them feel okay about me going back into that room. And back. And back. They’re as invested in saving you as I am. And they don’t know a fifth of what I know.
Listening to yourself tell yourself about the awful things you’ll do someday is an experience, I won’t deny it. But before you break off a chair leg or something and march into the basement to kill the other me like John Wayne with fangs, please believe that the other Marc DID NOT MOJO ME
INTO DOING THIS.
He just told me what would happen to me if I didn’t. Believe me, it was not a difficult choice. At all. And hey, I’m a man comfortable with opiates. When I went, honey, I went wrecked.
So I’ve saved myself. And I’ve saved you. And I was glad of the chance. Do you know why?
Because I love you, dumbass. From the moment we met. You’ve been like the little sister I never wanted. (That’s a joke. Not a very good one, I agree.) And right now you’re thinking dark thoughts about how you can’t protect your friends and being the vamp queen has ruined your life and no job in the world is worth this and how could you not see what I was going to do, blah-blah-blah, why me, I want shoes, this is hard, I hate everything, more shoes, blah-blah-blah.
But here’s the thing, and it’s the stone truth: knowing you has only ever made me feel one way. Not scared, not horny, not crazed, not pissed, not despairing, not thwarted. Lucky.
Knowing you has made me feel lucky. Even now, prepping this little opiate cocktail, I feel lucky. I’m controlling how I leave this world, something that poor bastard down in the basement couldn’t do. And look at the price he paid!
By doing this to myself, I’m undoing some seriously bad shit.
But don’t take my word for it.
Go to the basement, and ask me. Ask me for yourself. You won’t like what I say, but you’ll see the truth behind his awful smile.
I love you.
I will see you again. Believe it.
Your friend,
Marc
Appendix
I’ve never written an appendix before! Which I guess I find exciting, what with the exclamation point and all. In fact, I still have my original appendix. No appendectomy for this girl. But enough about the operations I haven’t had . . . the reason I’ve put this here at the end is because several readers asked for the complete Civil War ABCs Betsy memorized when she was four. Which I found flattering, yet weird. So here it is.
BETSY’S ABCS
A is for Antietam
B is for Buchanan (James)
C is for Confederate States of America
D is for Davis (Jefferson)
E is for Emancipation Proclamation
F is for Fort Sumter
G is for Gettysburg
H is for Harriet Beecher Stowe
I is for Indian Territory (Oklahoma Civil War)
J is for Jackson (Andrew)
K is for King Cotton
L is for Lincoln (Abraham)
M is for Mason Dixon Line
N is for Navy (Confederate, Union)
O is for O’Neal (Rose)
P is for Pickens (Francis W.)
Q is for Quinine
R is for Reconstruction
S is for Sherman (William Tecumseh)
T is for Thomas (George H.)
U is for Uncle Tom’s Cabin
V is for Vicksburg
W is for War Between the States
X is for XXV Corps
Y is for Yankee
Z is for Zebulon Baird Vance
Titles by MaryJanice Davidson
UNDEAD AND UNWED
UNDEAD AND UNEMPLOYED
UNDEAD AND UNAPPRECIATED
UNDEAD AND UNRETURNABLE
UNDEAD AND UNPOPULAR
UNDEAD AND UNEASY
UNDEAD AND UNWORTHY
UNDEAD AND UNWELCOME
UNDEAD AND UNFINISHED
UNDEAD AND UNDERMINED
DERIK’S BANE
SLEEPING WITH THE FISHES
SWIMMING WITHOUT A NET
FISH OUT OF WATER
Titles by MaryJanice Davidson and Anthony Alongi
JENNIFER SCALES AND THE ANCIENT FURNACE
JENNIFER SCALES AND THE MESSENGER OF LIGHT
THE SILVER MOON ELM: A JENNIFER SCALES NOVEL
SERAPH OF SORROW: A JENNIFER SCALES NOVEL
RISE OF THE POISON MOON: A JENNIFER SCALES NOVEL
Please visit http://www.Demonoid.me for more books from our generous members.
Baileyd
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Epigraph
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE
Appendix