“God forbid,” I muttered. Blech: even after dealing with Satan, I still had to go back and deal with her rotten kid. Well, one thing at a time. Meanwhile, the devil was still pontificating.
“I might not have had control over how that went, or what happened after. You, though. You’re almost trainable, and occasionally close to being bright. And you know what they say.” One eye closed in a slow wink. “The devil you know, right?”
“Ugh.” Overdone, but it was all I could think of to say. Then: “So all those times you said you were praying on one of my ideas, you were never praying.”
“Duh.”
“We’re done,” I decided. I turned to check with my friends. “Unless you guys had anything to add?”
I never saw so many heads shake so quickly: no, nope, definitely not, we’re good, carry on.
“I’ll leave when I’m damned good—”
“You were never good.” I took a deep (unnecessary) breath. It helped. Kept my knees from shaking, anyway. I’d half wondered if at this point in the festivities, we’d be fighting to the death again, or if the devil would have just tossed me out of Hell on my toned butt. “I want you gone. I want you away forever.”
“You can’t—”
The archdiocese directory wasn’t the only thing I’d studied. “I command you, demon. Get you gone from here. Leave Hell behind, now and forever.”
“Don’t. Don’t do that.”
I drew myself up and, unlike the Ant, didn’t need pineapple-colored hair to look imposing. “You are cast out. Get you gone!”
It wasn’t at all dramatic. She’d didn’t explode, or vanish in a flash of light or a puff of brimstone, or let loose with a cackle like Maleficent and stay right where she was. She just faded. She got lighter and paler and her expression went from pissed to surprised to astonished to frightened and she just faded away.
You know the saying “you could have heard a pin drop”? Not this time; at least a thousand people were murmuring and gasping. You couldn’t have heard a platoon of pins dropping.
“Oh, good,” I managed. I turned so my back was to the damned, so I was facing my family and could let my expression relax. “I was kind of afraid that wouldn’t work.”
“What was that?” Marc managed. “Did you look up some kind of spell book?”
“No. It’s from The Eyes of the Dragon. You know, Stephen King?” At their combined incredulous gazes I added, “What? I don’t do magic. And it’s not about the words, anyway. It’s about the will. My will. Which reminds me.” I turned to the king of the vampires, who looked equal parts staggered and proud. “About Hell: I got this. Okay?”
“Yes, dread queen.”
“Okeydokey, then.” I turned back to the damned. “Lawrence, could you come over here for a second?”
He was on his feet at once, and if he was nervous about Satan 2.0 calling him out in front of everyone, he didn’t show it. He looked as he had when he was one of mine (although he still was, but this time not as a vampire): dark suit, carefully groomed, immaculate. When he got close he dropped to one knee. “Majesty,” he murmured at the floor.
“None of that,” I said and stepped forward to seize him by the armpits and ungracefully haul him up. “Sinclair, you were asking about Lawrence. Here he is.”
“My king,” he said, smiling.
“My old friend,” Sinclair replied. They clasped hands in a vigorous handshake, the way older men did when what they wanted to do was hug.
“Lawrence, Sinclair was telling me all about you—your old nickname was Never-Tells-a-Lie or something—”
“No-Sugar-in-Your-Mouth.”
“Right. You were really good at going back and forth between the Native Americans and the army.”
“That was my duty and my honor, my queen.”
“Well, as it happens I’ve got a spot on my committee, and I could use someone with your skills. Interested?”
He bowed. Man, these guys knew how to class it up. “My duty is again my honor, good lady. I thank you.”
“Welcome.” Then: Now, don’t sulk, Sinclair. I don’t need you on the committee. I need you in the real world, our world.
Of course, my own.
Oh, sure, “of course.” All I had to do was outwit the devil—again—to earn your respect?
You’ve always had it, my own. But now you have my unshakable confidence. It goes hard with me, letting the woman I love fight her own battles. But, like you, I am learning.
All I can ask. I smiled at him, but the smile morphed into a scowl when Marc whispered to Lawrence, “They do that a lot. Stare at each other silently while sending vampire vibes back and forth. It’s beyond creepy.”
I rounded on him. “You know, I did just thoroughly defeat evil again. Would a teensy bit of deference be out of the question?”
“That’s exactly the amount of deference we give you,” he replied. “A teensy bit.”
“Oh. Well.” I looked at the Ant. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”
“Let’s not talk about it.”
I laughed; I couldn’t help it. “Agreed. It’ll never be spoken of again.” And to my great surprise, I got a real smile out of Antonia Taylor for the first time ever.
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
The last thing. Well, the second-to-last thing. Laura was fretting impatiently in the Peach Parlor (she was no longer welcome in the kitchen and was forever barred from Smoothie Time). “Finally,” she complained, which for some reason she thought was an acceptable greeting. “I’ve been here five minutes.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s been a busy day. Thanks for coming.”
“Yes, well. I imagine you have some things to say to me.”
I just looked at her. She was earnest and smug, and a little nervous. She looked beautiful, as she always did. She’d taken some care with her appearance; I’d never seen her in a sweater dress before. Deep blue, knee length, with ribbed tights in the same shade. Scuffed flats from Payless, which I heroically decided to ignore. Long hair held back from her face with a wide black headband. No makeup; the lucky bitch didn’t need it.
“It doesn’t matter what you say,” she said, clearly anxious to get on with her agenda. “I’m going forward with this. You think the media was bad this week? More and more cities are picking up the story. People who’ve been attacked by your vampires are speaking up, since they realize there’s a good chance they’ll be believed. None of your denials will—”
“We’re not denying it.”
“—do any— What?”
“We’re not. Denying it. Oh, the first plan was to kidnap and rape a bunch of brains, specifically media brains, you know, the usual. But we’re not doing that this time. We’re not denying anything; we’re not fighting you on this. At all.”
“That— You’re lying.”
“Nope.”
“You are.”
“Nope. And I’ve got you to thank for it.”
“Now you are lying.”
“Are you as deaf as you are outmatched? Pay attention: I’ve made some changes in Hell and they’re going pretty great.” That might be an exaggeration, but Laura didn’t need to know that. “Sometimes old, outdated rules are old and outdated, so they’ve gotta be pitched. Or at least reworked. Doing the job you tricked me into is what gave me the idea, so thanks for that.”
“You would never. It’s too dangerous. You’d never risk your people.” That last was spit out; oooh, jealous much? The mindless worshipping minions not really doing it for you, Laura? It’s not much good without friends, is it? “It’s too risky.”
I laughed. “Risky. That’s funny. What isn’t these days? You used to know that, before you turned traitor. Oh, and you might have doomed the planet, too.”
“I— No!” She was on her feet, but I didn’t move. I was nice and comfy on t
he love seat across from her and would remain relaxed while she lost her shit. I have to say: I was really looking forward to it. “That’s you; that’s your people, your vampire nation. That’s why you have to stay in the shadows; that’s why you’re lying about coming forward—”
“And that’s exactly my point: we can’t stay in the shadows anymore. Time to embrace the twenty-first century and the sooner the better. We probably would have come to this decision on our own, just not this soon. But . . .” I shrugged. “Since you’re bringing it about, why fight it? But that’s the least of your problems because, again, you might have screwed the world. Good trick for a virgin!”
“Why are you lying?” This in a whisper, and I had to grit my teeth
(stay strong stay strong she’s her mother’s daughter but you are too)
at her sad, overwhelmed expression. Poor kid. No fucking idea what she’d unleashed—as usual.
“Betsy, just tell me the truth. Okay? Stop saying these lies and trying to get me upset and just be honest.”
“Okay.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and had sympathy for anyone who’d had to deal with me when I did something deliberately, awfully stupid. “Here’s the truth: you’re such a numb-cunt sometimes.” I hated that word, I almost never used it. It was so cruel and misogynistic and filthy. But it had to be said. The Antichrist was a cunt.
Shocked, she had no response, but her knuckles whitened. Since she wasn’t clutching anything, it was kind of impressive.
“You remember Ancient Me in the future, right? That particular detail hasn’t vacated your brain while you’ve been running around implementing phase one of Getting Daddy to Love You, right?”
She reddened. “That’s not—”
“And you remember how I’d— How shall I put this? How in the future I took over the fucking planet and ruled over a desolate winter wasteland, right?21 You recall that? Vaguely?”
“But that’s— We fixed it. When we came back the timeline was changed so that could never—”
“Maybe one of the reasons Crone Betsy took over was because somebody outed vampires and she had to take on the world, you oblivious shithead! Did you ever once think of that?”
She hadn’t. I could see it on her face. She rallied pretty quickly, though, and I saw some of my own “this has caught me off guard but I’m surging ahead anyway, so fuck it” attitude come to the fore. “That won’t happen. The tyrant Betsy made Marc a vampire . . . you made him a zombie.”
“No, fuckwit, Ancient Me made him a zombie!” Somehow Old Me had gone back in time, raised recently suicided Marc as a zombie, and disappeared back to her own timeline, never to be seen again. “How can you forget this really important shit when you were there? Oh, but I know how.” I stood, because I was kicking her out. “You don’t give a shit about saving the world. Outing us isn’t about protecting people, it’s about proving you’re good and I’m not. So, prove it. Actually help people instead of stirring up shit. And did it never occur to you that I might tell the world you’re the Antichrist?” I wouldn’t. I had no interest in speeding up anything that would make her embrace her birthright and drag the planet into her sad-ass idea of a necessary war between good and evil.
“Yes.” She’d slumped back into her seat, which was too bad because, like I said: time to go, bitch! “But who’d believe you?”
I just looked at her. “So. Many. People. Now get out.”
“What?”
“I said get out. You’ve abused my good nature for the last time, Laura.”
“Good nature!” She was on her feet again—excellent—and practically choking on the words. “You’ve never been—”
“Oh, shut up. I genuinely don’t care. Go away now. Forever, if you like. Oh, and tell Dad that I haven’t forgotten about him. Well, I have, in that I’m not tracking his ass down anytime soon, but he— Oh my God, he left.” I could see it at once. Laura had the worst poker face ever. “He’s gone! Isn’t he? He helped you make a mess and then he snuck out of town and left you with the broom.” I laughed again. “That is so like him! That’s exactly like him. He’s not anything like you’d hoped, is he? Oh, God, that’s hilarious.” Chuckling, I shooed her toward the door. “And speaking of terrible parents who continually disappoint, your mom says hi.”
Oooh, that got her. She’d been stumbling toward the door, fending off my “shoo, shoo!” motions, and now turned so quickly she nearly fell. “What? When did you see my mother?”
“In Hell, just before I kicked her ass out. Again. And that time I did lie: she didn’t say hi. She didn’t say anything about you at all. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” We were at the front door by now, and I was pretending not to notice my roommates scrambling out of the entryway, like I hadn’t heard them sneaking close to eavesdrop the minute I entered the parlor. “If you ever needed a reason to turn your back on your parents and live by your own code, you’ve got it now. You don’t owe either of them a thing: you can be true to yourself.
“But you won’t. You’re locked into showing everyone you’re good. But you can’t do that by just being good. No, you have to show them someone who’s bad and force a comparison. You picked the wrong girl for that one. Again.”
“Stop pushing,” she snapped. “I’m going!”
“Well, finally.” I wrenched the door open. “If I see you again—”
“Yes, yes, you’ll kill me, that’ll definitely show how good you are.”
“—I’ll slap the shit out of you, probably in front of witnesses. It’ll be hilarious!” I giggled at the thought, gave her one last shove, and slammed the door in her furious confused beautiful red face.
Then I leaned against it and blew out a breath. Whew! Stressful, but satisfying.
Which was the perfect description of my life, come to think of it.
EPILOGUE
I walked onstage, already blinking despite the sunglasses. It had nothing to do with my sensitive vamp vision and everything to do with all the lights trained on me. Already this whole thing was a pain. At least Tina knew how to call a press conference; I’d had no idea.
I stepped up to the podium and faced a dozen microphones that looked like big black ice cream cones (licorice? Earl Grey?).
I cleared my throat (note to self: break that unnecessary habit) and said, “Hi, my name is Betsy Taylor, and I’m the queen of the vampires. Yes, vampires are real.
“Any questions?”
1 The gory details can be found in Undead and Unfinished.
2 Laughing Out Loud, Just Kidding, Shut the Fuck Up, I’m So Hung Over, Everything Sucks, Everything Blows, I’m Not Supposed to Be Here.
3 They were only ruby in the movie because MGM wanted to show off its new Technicolor technology. The more you know!
4 It was! Details can be found in Undead and Unwed.
5 Undead and Unwary.
6 All the plotting and general sneakiness—and more!—can be found in Undead and Undermined.
7 It’s true! It can all be found in Undead and Unfinished.
8 Nostro, in Undead and Unwed.
9 All the awful happened in Undead and Undermined. (Hint: it worked out in the end.)
10 New England Journal of Medicine and Journal of the American Medical Association.
11 Laura did the dirty deed in Undead and Unstable.
12 Google was founded in 1998, which, ironically, I found out by Googling.
13 The trickery was on display in Undead and Unemployed.
14 Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, John Gray.
15 It’s true. Undead and Unwed.
16 Betsy turned evil and raped Sinclair in Undead and Unreturnable. Sinclair was too delighted to notice he was being forced. It was a whole thing.
17 Poor Dick was assigned to Betsy’s assault, and investigated her death as well, in Undead and Un
wed.
18 The weirdness was on display in Undead and Unwary.
19 Spoiler alert: it’s true! Undead and Underwater.
20 We found out Betsy is a recovering Miss Congeniality (Burnsville High School) in Undead and Unwed.
21 It’s true. Undead and Unfinished. Ancient Betsy was awful.
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