Wolf at the Door - By MaryJanice Davidson Page 0,43

Boo was on the way; the smart choice was to hammer the windows shut and hunker down until it passed.

Yep. That’s what he would do. He would hunker until it passed.

Absolutely.

Yes.

His phone buzzed again. He grabbed it, then answered with a curt, “Your place. Twenty minutes.” He didn’t wait for a reply.

He lunged for his car keys and left the room so quickly he didn’t even lock it.

Thirty-five

She answered the door at once, pale and nibbling on her lower lip. “This isn’t a good time.”

“Tell me about it.” He stomped past her and down the stairs to her hobbit hole. “Let’s go, toots.”

“Toots? Really? And why haven’t you been answering my calls? Dammit, Edward, I’ve been worried about you!”

“Big fucking deal.” He stopped in her living room, turned. Faced her. “I know, Rachael.”

“What?”

“Quit it. I know.”

“I do not have time for this, Edward.” She snuck a glance out one of the windows. “Very soon I’m going to have a . . . a biological dilemma. You can’t be here when that happens.”

“What, like your time of the month?” Suuuure. Vampires didn’t menstruate. He was pretty sure. How dumb did she think he was?

Pretty dumb.

“Exactly. My time of the month.” For some reason, she laughed. “Except not what you think. Edward—”

He grabbed her. “Rachael, listen to me. Listen.”

“Why,” she asked mildly, “are all your fingers digging into the meat of my arms?”

“I know, okay? I know. And my friend Boo is coming to kill you. You have to get away; I have to get you away. She. Will. Kill. You.”

“What’s a boo?” She was prying off his fingers one by one, still much more interested in the view than anything else. “Something dreadful, probably; you smell like cotton on fire.”

He felt like shaking her. He let go before he did. He was so afraid he would hit her. So afraid.

Curse those vampiric senses! “Never mind how I smell. You gotta leave. Like, right now. Right now.”

“I can’t go anywhere right now. In fact, you should leave. I shouldn’t have let you come over at all. I had . . .” Another peek out the window. “I had other things to worry about, but I was also worried about you, and tomorrow morning we’re going to have a big wicked fight about it, but you have to go now.”

“Will you cut the shit? Huh? I’m telling you, we have to go. So will you pack already?”

“No. You get out of here.”

“I know you’re the fucking vampire queen, Rachael! And the greatest vampire slayer in the history of vampire slayers is probably on a flight to here right now!”

He was expecting a heated denial, or cold mockery. Anything but what actually happened: she laughed so hard she fell down. Actually fell down! And laid on the carpet holding her stomach and laughing up at him.

“Okay.” He stared down at her. “This isn’t going the way I planned. At all.”

“Me! The vampire queen! Oh . . . oh . . . oh!” She snorted and giggled. “Oh, that’s rich! That’s wonderful! Me! One of them!” Then she sobered. “Wait. How do you even know there’s such a thing as a vampire queen?”

“Why d’you think?” he snapped. “I got your stupid newsletter. It’s got your damned address in it.”

She blinked up at him. “Who are you?” she asked after a long moment. “Who are you really? You’re not one of them. And you’re not one of us. So who are you, Edward?”

“A fucking moron who believed you actually—” No. He wouldn’t tell her that. He wasn’t even sure why he was trying to save her. Only that he had to. Had to.

“Look, enough with the slinging of crap, okay? Even if you won’t admit it—”

“I will not admit it.” She shook her head. “Ever.”

“I can prove you’re her.” He bent and seized her wrist and pulled. She rose like smoke to her feet, so easily it was like she had no weight at all. Then he started to tug her toward the door but couldn’t move her any farther.

Puzzled, he thought, She must have set her feet against something. He tugged harder. Something like a cement bookshelf ? Maybe the rolltop desk was heavier than it looked. Except she’s not touching the desk. He was so intent on exposing her web of lies that he didn’t ponder. “I can prove—unf!—you’re the vampire queen. Save yourself some trouble and—nnnf!—admit your evil plan to—nnf!—enslave babies. Or make babies into zombies. Or zombies into babies.”

“I admit nothing. Certainly