He nods and I realize exactly what her plan must be. And yes, I do admittedly feel like kind of a noob not to have thought of it first. I mean, hello, video game 101. Take out the boss monster and all the little creatures under her control will die, too, unable to survive without her.
Charlie grabs at my ankle, desperate for a bite. I slam my foot down on his head, crushing his skull. That ought to give me a minute or two. I jump over his writhing frame and follow Spider out to the main cabin to assess the scene.
While several zombies do appear to be milling about, others are still sitting in their seats, evidently not quite with it enough to figure out how to undo their seatbelts. Which is something, I suppose. But we’ve still got plenty to contend with.
Glenda stands at the far end of the plane, her face in her hands. Wait—is she crying? I feel an involuntary twinge of pity as I realize that though this woman did send an army of brain-eating zombies after me, I kind of started it by kissing her boyfriend. Or the man she thought was her boyfriend, but had been using her to gain access to her menagerie. I tried to imagine how I’d feel in the same situation. If I found Jareth kissing her and learned that he’d never loved me. I think if I had a gaggle of zombies at my disposal, I might unleash them on the guy as well.
But my feelings of pity are short-lived as a female zombie dressed in ragged Armani charges down the aisle at me. Thinking fast, I grab an overhead compartment and flip it open.
“Objects may have shifted during flight, bitch!” I cry as a heavy suitcase flies from the compartment and smacks her on the head. She falls into the row of seats to her left, colliding into another zombie. Two for one, baby. I’m on fire.
“Rayne, behind you!” Spider shouts. I whirl around to find the now one-armed door zombie stumbling down the aisle toward me, single arm outstretched and a pissed-off look on his face. I grab a seat cushion and use it as a shield as I charge in his direction, succeeding in knocking him backward into the galley kitchenette. A pot of hot coffee comes crashing down, scalding his remaining arm. He bellows in rage.
I kick him in the gut for good measure, then rejoin Spider, who’s fighting her way to the front of the plane. I watch, admiringly, as she takes out zombie after zombie, knocking each back into their rows, with only a tray table. Maybe Slayer Inc. wasn’t wrong to choose her after all.
I try to follow, but it’s like a game of Whac-A-Mole. She knocks them down, they get up behind her. Realizing she’s now in the best position to reach the queen, I decide for the first time in my life to play sidekick instead of hero.
“Hey, uglies! Over here!” I cry, waving my arms. “Fresh brain. No waiting!”
The zombies turn in my direction and abandon Spider to start stumbling toward me instead. I back up slowly, keeping their attention. From the front of the plane I can see that Spider has reached Glenda.
“Call your creatures off,” she demands, sounding fiercer than I’ve ever heard her sound before. “Or I won’t be held responsible for what I’m about to do.”
To my surprise, Glenda bursts into a fresh set of tears. “Do your worst,” she sobs. “It doesn’t matter anymore. My Jareth has betrayed me. What else is there to live for?”
Even from back here, I can see my friend soften. She had a bad break up with her boyfriend after he cheated on her with some chick he met during a WoW raid and is extra sensitive to the notion of guys doing their women wrong.
But we don’t have time for female bonding now. The first zombie has reached me, pawing at me with filthy, clawlike hands. Behind me, One Arm has recovered and is also on the move. And I’m trapped between them. I wait for the last second, and then, as they both lunge together, I dive sideways into an empty row, forcing them to bang into one another instead, knocking heads and falling down. I’m saved for the short term but also trapped as two more zombies approach.
“Guys can be total jerks,” I can hear Spider assuring our arch enemy over the din. “But you have so much going for you! I mean, you’re a zombie queen—how cool is that? That alone should be worth living for.”
My eyes fall upon the discarded brain on the seat in front of me. I realize, dimly, that I’m in my row. The one with my bag under the seat. I know Jareth said we shouldn’t be using firearms on the plane, but at this point I’m thinking we might want to risk it. I drop to my knees, shuffling under the seat in front of me for my gun. Above me, three zombies loom, ready to pounce.
“I know,” Glenda says mournfully. “It’s just that I’ve been so lonely…”
Got it! I rip the weapon from my bag and dive between one zombie’s legs, trying not to be grossed out by the slime. By the time he realizes where I’ve gone, I’m halfway down the aisle again.
“Spider!” I cry, waving the gun. “Stand back!” I stop in my tracks to aim. I can hear the zombies shuffling behind me. I don’t have much time to make this shot.
“Wait!” Spider cries. To my surprise she leaps in front of Glenda.
“What are you doing?” I scream.
My friend’s face takes on a determined look. One I’ve seen way too many times before. When she’s on a rampage, fighting for some kind of cause. “She doesn’t deserve to die!” she tells me in a clear, strong voice. “The poor woman’s been played. Just like everyone else.”
A zombie grabs my ponytail, yanking me backward. I can feel its hot, stinky breath on my neck. Oh God.
“Spider!” I beg. The zombie opens his mouth, dragging me closer to get a good bite.
My friend turns to Glenda, giving her a beseeching look. The zombie queen sighs loudly.
“Fine, fine,” she says. “But for the record, this is for you, not her.” She raises her hands and claps twice, chanting something in a language I don’t recognize. The zombie freezes, midchomp, then falls lifelessly to my feet. All around him the other zombies do the same. As if they’ve been deflated. I let out a breath of relief and collapse myself, onto a nearby seat.
“That was way too close,” I mutter. I lean into the aisle to catch Glenda staring at Spider with a look of amazement on her (still tacky, I’m sorry!) face. “You saved my life,” she whispers. “No one has ever done that for me before.”
Spider puts an arm around the zombie queen and leads her to a nearby seat. “We girls got to stick together,” she assures her. “Not let the bastards get us down.”
Glenda smiles at her. “You are a good person,” she says. “I would love to repay you for your kindness.”
“Nah, you don’t have to,” Spider says modestly. “It’s, like, my destiny and stuff.”
“No. Your destiny would have had you kill me,” Glenda reminds her. “But you showed compassion. That’s a rare thing.” She purses her lips. “And so I will grant you one wish. Whatever is in my power to give, you shall have it. No matter what it may be.”
Spider thinks for a moment, then glances back to me, her eyes full of mischief. I give her a bewildered shrug, having zero clue what she’s trying to convey. Knowing her, it could be anything. Spider grins, then turns back to the zombie queen.
“I’ve got the perfect thing,” she says. Leaning in close, she whispers something into Glenda’s ear. I strain to catch what she’s saying but can’t quite get it.
But Glenda does. And she bursts out laughing. She slaps Spider on the back and rises from her seat. “Absolutely,” she says, smiling at my friend. “That can absolutely be arranged.”
25
Sunny
At first I think Pyrus is going to grab me and bite me—transform me into his blood mate right here, right now, no waiting. But it turns out, he’s a bit more bridezilla than that, preferring Will and Kate–size nuptials rather than a down-and-dirty Vegas elopement. And all the vampire masters in town for the symposium have been invited. After all, he’s got to milk this whole fairy-vampire alliance thing he’s out to create for all it’s worth.
Not that I should worry my pretty little head over any of it, he tells me. He’ll take care of the invitations and the location
, and even find me a gorgeous dress.
But that doesn’t mean I get to hang out and play the slots while waiting for my big moment. After announcing his intentions, Pyrus dismisses me almost immediately, ordering his guards to lock me in a palatial-looking prison of a penthouse right on the strip. All done up in honeymoon whites and pinks and silvers, it’s got a luxurious king-size canopy bed with five-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets and gauzy, sparkling curtains. There’s a pool table in one room and a massive Jacuzzi tub in another. And the full kitchen is stocked with every food I can possibly think of and some I’ve never even heard of. Which is nice, I suppose, seeing as after the ceremony I’ll be on a blood-only diet for eternity.
Dejected, I sink down onto the velvet chaise longue, staring out onto the dazzling strip, wondering how on earth I keep ending up with guys who want to marry me against my will. At least back in Fairyland, I was under a magical spell and was oblivious to the fact that I didn’t want anything to do with my future groom. Not that the clarity I’m experiencing now will help me much in my current predicament.
Half of me wonders if I should have just kept my mouth shut—not speaking up about my nonhuman ancestry. But no, then Pyrus would have just killed me on the spot. At least this way I’ve bought myself some time. Bought myself an eternity, actually. Though what the heck I’m going to do with it, I have no idea. Will Pyrus actually treat me like a real blood mate—allowing me to voice my opinion and rule by his side? Somehow, knowing his personality, I’m kind of doubting it.
Let’s face it—I’m the trophy fairy. To be kept in an ivory tower and only trotted out during times of pomp and circumstance and political chess. Meaning I’ll be living most of my eternity alone. And I’ll probably never see any of my friends or family again. Maybe a quick death would have been preferable, now that I think about it.
The thoughts tumble around in my head, not allowing me any rest. I try to eat something—the food looks delicious—but it tastes like cardboard in my mouth. There are no clocks, so I can’t tell how much time has passed, and I wonder how long he’s going to keep me here before the big event. Not that I’m anxious or anything. I also wonder about my sister. Has she had better luck than me? If she can persuade Jareth to call off the zombies, well, at least that would be something. Even as a vampire, I’d much rather live out my eternity knowing the human race still exists and thrives as a dominant species.
Lastly, I wonder about Magnus. I can’t help it. I know that he betrayed me—turned me over to Pyrus, of all people. I know that it’s technically his fault that I’m in this whole mess to begin with. But all I can seem to focus on is the guilt I saw in his eyes as he learned that everything I told him was true. How must he feel, knowing that his disbelief led to his Master’s death, not to mention my eternal damnation?
A knock on the door interrupts my reverie and my heart pounds in my chest as I tell the caller to enter. Will it be Pyrus? Or one of his flunkies, letting me know they’re ready to begin the ceremony? Will I still be human come dawn?
A man dressed in a waiter’s uniform walks into the room, carrying a tray of fruit. My shoulders relax. It’s not Pyrus. The man closes the door behind him, sets the tray on the breakfast bar, then turns to me, pulling off his hat. I gasp as I realize it’s not a waiter at all…but Magnus himself.
I don’t know exactly how it happens, but before I know it, the two of us are tangled in one another’s arms. Magnus squeezes me tight, his hands running through my hair, his lips kissing my face. I return his kisses with my own, rejoicing at the feeling of his cool skin against my mouth. This may be the last time I ever get to feel him. I’m going to make the most of it.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from our embrace and studying me with worried eyes. “They haven’t…hurt you…have they?” He walks over to the door and locks it from the inside.
I shake my head, reaching out to clasp his hands in my own. “No,” I assure him. “I’m fine. I mean, at least physically.”
“Oh, Sunny. Oh, my love.” Magnus shakes his head, dropping my hands and staring at the floor. “Can you ever forgive me? I’ve been such a fool. I should have listened to you. I should have believed you. You are my blood mate, after all. What I did was inexcusable.” He looks up, his eyes rimmed with blood tears. “Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”
I reach out to brush a smudge of blood from his cheek, gazing at him tenderly. “There’s nothing to forgive,” I whisper. “I’m just glad to see you, even if it’s for the last time.”
He pulls me close again, his breath tickling my ear as his fingers stroke my back. I allow myself to relax in his arms, living in the moment, my heart bursting with the idea that I no longer have to hide behind the lies. He knows the truth. He knows the real me. And he still loves me. Unconditionally. I try to memorize the memories we’re making now—each touch, each caress. They’ll be all I have to keep me warm during countless cold nights to come.
And then he kisses me. Fully and deeply and with a desperation that tells me volumes.
The kiss lasts forever…and yet ends too soon. Magnus pulls away, concern etched in his deep-blue eyes. “We have to talk,” he says. And I know he’s right.
He leads me over to the chaise longue and gestures for me to sit down beside him. “I’ve tried to get in touch with Jareth—to let him know that Lucifent is dead and Pyrus is not to be trusted. But I’ve gotten no answer.”
I frown. “I hope nothing’s happened to him and my sister. She and another slayer went to try to reason with him, just as I tried to do with you.”
Magnus cringes at my words. “I hope Jareth is more open-minded than I was,” he laments. “If only I had believed you, I could have prevented all of this.”
“Yeah, well, I should have taken you up on the blood-mate thing from the beginning,” I reply. “If I were already yours…and already a vampire…then Pyrus couldn’t…”
I trail off, my eyes widening. I look at Magnus, wondering if he’s thinking the same thing as I am. Could it work?
“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a bad idea. You don’t want to become a vampire, remember? You never signed up to be one. I’m not Pyrus. I’m not going to turn someone against their will.”
“But I’m going to become one anyway,” I argue. “If Pyrus has his way, and you know he always does.” I give him a pleading look. “And trust me, if I have to become a vampire, I’d much rather be your vampire than his.”
But Magnus just shakes his head a second time. “There has to be another way.” He rises from the chaise longue, pacing the room. I watch as he walks over to the window and looks down. Unfortunately we’re probably a hundred stories up.
“If I had my fairy wings—maybe,” I say, realizing what he’s thinking. “But otherwise I’m Rapunzel in this tower—with shoulder-length hair.” In other words, totally helpless.
“What if we just walked out the front door?” he suggests. “You could wear my disguise and—”
Suddenly a knock sounds on the door in question. So much for that idea. We look at one another, our faces mirroring our terror. “Please, Magnus,” I beg. “You’ve got to turn me. It’s the only way to save me now.”
Magnus looks away, tormented. “But he’ll figure it out. And he’ll kill you when he realizes you’re no longer any use to him.”
I shrug. “Then I’ll die. It’s not like I haven’t been there, done that, got the T-shirt. And trust me—an eternity in Hades is a much more inviting prospect than eternal life as Pyrus’s girl.”
Magnus says nothing. There’s another knock on the door. We’re running out of time.
“Magnus!” I hiss. “If you love me—if you care about me at all—you have to do this!”
My words seem to break him from his trance. He rushes to the kitchen, grabbing a knife from a drawer. Oh thank God. “I’ve already taken your blood,” he says as he pushes up his sleeve. “So all you have to do is drink some of mine and the bond will be complet
e.” He slashes at his wrist with the knife and holds up his bleeding arm to me. He gives me a rueful smile. “Not exactly the romantic way I’d imagined this going down,” he says.
My heart bursts as I approach him. “I love you,” I tell him. “I love you so much.”
I press my mouth to his wound, squeezing my eyes shut and daring to take that first suck. The one that will change me forever. I start slowly, and then, as the power of the exchange starts to consume my senses, I find myself gulping down mouthfuls of sweet blood. My mind races, mingling with his as I drink, and I can almost feel the bond solidifying between us, never to be broken apart. It’s so strong and so overwhelming and so beautiful—it makes me wonder if this wasn’t what was missing from our previous relationship after all.
Too soon, Magnus pulls me away. I look up at him, my eyes full of wonder, my heart bursting with adoration. “I’m yours,” I whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek with my finger. “I’m forever yours.”
Magnus smiles at me with such tenderness I nearly swoon. He kisses me hard on the lips. “Oh, Sunny,” he whispers. “I hope you don’t regret this.”
I shake my head. “Never. I swear it.”
A battering sound interrupts us, followed by a loud cracking as the door splinters inward. Whoever wants to get in is only seconds away.
“Duck!” I command Magnus, wiping the blood from my mouth. “I’ll get him out of here. You find my sister and Jareth. Maybe there’s still a chance we can make this right!”
Magnus doesn’t need a second invitation. He drops down behind the breakfast bar and I run over to the door, pulling it open before they can bust it in. I smile widely as Pyrus steps through the door, looking around suspiciously.
“Why didn’t you answer my knock?” he demands. “And why is the door locked?”
I shrug. “Sorry,” I say. “I was drying my hair.” I reach up to fluff the hair in question, hoping he doesn’t notice how unwashed it actually looks. “Wanted to look good for you when you stopped by.”