- •Author's Note
- •Chapter 1
- •It was a short list. My mom; my dad; my (sigh) stepmother, Antonia; her
- •It's not happening."
- •I glared at the two of them, but Tina and Eric kept babbling. I wasn't sure if they were ignoring me or honestly hadn't heard, so I took the mature route and just spoke louder.
- •I had to admit, I had no idea what Antonia (the werewolf, not my stepmother) saw in him.
- •Chapter 2
- •Chapter 3
- •In the movies, everybody would have stopped; Alonzo did, but Sophie was still shrieking and clawing at him, and I saw her tear a huge strip of skin off his shaved scalp.
- •Chapter 4
- •I turned to Alonzo. "This is quite a spot you've put me in."
- •I rolled up the sleeves of my special, Garrett-knitted, baby blue sweater. "Hey, you wanna go? Let's go. But you won't be picking on a kid waitress this time."
- •Chapter 5
- •I slumped lower on the couch. "Don't remind—wait. You think they should have stopped by sooner?"
- •Chapter 6
- •I crossed my legs and pointed my toe, an old trick that called attention to my (if I do say so myself—there weresome advantages to being a six-foot-tall dork) good legs. "Thanks," I said.
- •Chapter 7
- •It occurred to me, not for the first time, that I had very little clue what
- •I stuck a finger in Alonzo's bemused face. "Don't even think about it."
- •I trudged back to the parlor, laden with bags of baby crap and, of course, the baby.
- •Chapter 8
- •Chapter 9
- •I heard a car door slam outside and, annoyingly, Tina and Sinclair looked completely unsurprised.
- •I didn't knowwhat it was. But I could see the white Walgreens prescription bag peeking out of her purse. All of a sudden, I didn't want to be in this meeting.
- •Chapter 10
- •I died."
- •I glared up at her. "When I get off this floor I'm kicking the shit out of you.
- •Chapter 11
- •Chapter 12
- •I shivered. "Eric, I love you, but sometimes you give mesuch a case of the creeps."
- •Chapter 13
- •Chapter 14
- •Chapter 15
- •I, the fucking family calendar?
- •I didn't. Marjorie waited for me to catch on. I quietly trusted she had packed a lunch. Finally, she said, "Page forty-seven."
- •Chapter 16
- •I was beginning to feel like I was spending half my (new) life in parlors.
- •I nearly walked into a melting snowbank. "Seriously? You're asking me?" "I am but a loyal subject. Your will is my will."
- •I laughed.
- •Chapter 17
- •I slung my coat into the mudroom closet, kicked off my boots, and made for the kitchen.
- •I slunk into one of the chairs. "What people? It's her, and it's Liam. And no.
- •Chapter 18
- •I was hurt. Well, pretending to be. "Are you thaying I thould be athamed?
- •I glared. "You know, most sensible people would be scared of me."
- •Chapter 19
- •In fact, he'd shown up here a few months ago when he heard about my impending unholy nuptials. The gist of our conversation:
- •I could almost hear Sinclair in my head:Then don't .
- •I stammered, trying to say five things at once.
- •Chapter 20
- •I made a face. "Don't remind me."
- •Chapter 21
- •I had to laugh. The animals! Apparently all these studies had been done about how soothing and restful nursing home inmates—uh, residents—found live-in cats, dogs, and birds.
- •I shuddered, imagining Grandpa's wrath. As a member of The Greatest
- •Chapter 22
- •I stirred my tea, and simmered next to it. Like Korben Dallas inThe Fifth
- •I swung open the door.
- •I took a step forward, fragile baby-and-poop bomb bouncing tenderly in my arms. My mouth was beginning to hurt. "Sometimes, I just feel like I'm going to break, you know what I mean? Can you imagine?"
- •Chapter 23
- •Chapter 24
- •I swallowed my irritation. Cathie had had a hard life. Or death, rather. She was lonely. She was bitchy. I was the only person she could bug. Talk to, rather.
- •Chapter 25
- •It took a long time to find the door.
- •Chapter 26
- •I tried to squash the traitorous thought
- •Chapter 27
- •Chapter 28
- •It was coming from Alonzo's body.
- •Chapter 29
- •I looked around at the others. "When you use euphemisms like 'take care of it' and stuff, are we, I just wanted to make sure, are we talking about the same thing?"
- •I turned and walked a little ways away from the group. "Then you came over here and did it?"
- •I closed the phone and turned back to the group. "Okay! Where were we?
- •Chapter 30
- •I shook my head; if he was looking for answers, he had the wrong girl. "I'm so fucking thirsty right now," I admitted, "it's hard to get worked up about anything."
- •I followed her, groaning. What fresh hell was this? Couldn't I ever get a break? And why was Jess even bothering me with this stuff? She knew I
I shivered. "Eric, I love you, but sometimes you give mesuch a case of the creeps."
He smiled at me. "Good."
Chapter 13
We took our bloodlust straight to the downtown Marriott, where Sinclair, the sneaky bastard, had booked a room. We'd barely made it through the door when we started tearing off our clothes, groping, kissing, sucking—everything but biting. And God, it was hard. It was like jerking off and not letting yourself come. Why, why, why was I doing this?
Because I would not be ruled by my fiendish blood-lust. I was the queen; it had to count for something. I was my own person, not a slave to my hungers.
I managed to keep those coherent thoughts until Sinclair tossed me on the bed, ripped through my skirt and panties, pushed my legs apart, and stuck his tongue inside me. I wrapped my legs around his neck and rode his mouth, both of us clawing through the bedspread. Then he was rearing over me, holding me apart with trembling fingers as he rammed into me with no finesse whatsoever. I didn't hold it against him.
Elizabeth you queen you brat you darling
"Back atcha," I groaned while he pumped and worked between my legs, while I bit my own lip so I wouldn't bite him, wouldn't eat him like the wolf ate Red Riding Hood.
Another weird queen thing: I could read Eric's mind during sex. He couldn't read mine. Yeah, that had gone over well. I'd finally told him, at the worst possible time, but the good news was, he hadn't had the worst possible reaction. We'd patched things up, but it hadn't been easy.
I can't believe I'm going along with your stupid bid for independence I should have you over my knee this minute
"Later," I panted. "You can spank me later." I will you brat you lovely you darling
I yelled at the ceiling as I came, yelled and clutched at him and tried to pull him farther into myself. He slid his hands beneath my ass and pinched me viciously as he shuddered into orgasm.
"Owwwww."
He rested his forehead on mine for a long moment. "What was that for?" I bitched. To hell with afterglow.
"You deserve that and worse," he said, rolling off me. "Cutting me off from my favorite blood source. Why don't you take my testicles while you're at it?"
"Stop whining. If you really minded, there wouldn't be a thingI could do about it."
He smiled thinly, and contemplated the ruin of our clothes. "You really think so, don't you, darling?"
"What are you bitching about? You got fed, you got laid. No baby in sight.
The whole night in front of us—alone."
The smile came again, a little more real this time. "Sometimes," he said, "you almost make sense."
"Yeah, well, sometimes I have panties on. What'd you do, eat them?
There's scraps of clothing all over the place."
"I took the liberty of packing a bag."
"Well, thank goodness. You didn't, uh,like that whore, did you?"
He pulled me on top of him and suddenly I was looking into his black eyes, which, since I had just been looking around for my underpants, was startling. "You know my heart and my soul," he said quietly, tenderly. "You can read my mind, something no one else on the planet can do. There is.
No. Comparison." He shook me a little at each word to make his point.
"Though I must say I find your insecurity quite charming."
"Shut up. I'm sorry to make you drink from strange women—" "Idon't mind," he said silkily.
"—it's just something I have to do for myself, you know? Not drink, I mean. I know it seems dumb to you—what'd you call it? My stupid bid for independence? If I was you, I'd probably think it was dumb, too. But it just seems—this whole past year—like I've been on a ride I can't get off. This is something I can control. I'm sorry if it screws you over." To my surprise, I
suddenly felt like crying.
He hugged me to him. "Darling, don't do that. I know what it's like to be a slave to the thirst. I think what you do is wondrous. I'll support you as long as you—"
"Can hold out?"
"—decide to stay with this course of action," he corrected himself.
"Thanks. For a puke, you can be pretty nice sometimes."
"Crumbs from the lady's table," he said with grim good humor, and got up to find the overnight bag.
Later, we made love again, slowly and tenderly, sliding against each other and purring like the big predators we were. And for a whole night, I didn't think about BabyJon or Sophie or Alonzo, or even Jessica.