Undead and Unwelcome

Chapter 50

Think about what you’re doing, Laura.”

“I told you never to speak of her around me.” She was striding forward and I was backing up—while trying to tell myself I wasn’t backing up. Laura’s hair went red when she was indulging a homicidal rage. My little sis definitely had a dark side.

“Can’t we talk this through—oooooh!”

This time I crashed, back first, into the fireplace. Luckily it was a mansion-​sized fireplace, not the little ones you usually see in houses these days. The thing was big enough to roast a sheep in. Or a vampire.

“All right, enough is fucking enough.” I crawled, coughing soot, out of the fireplace. “No more Mrs. Nice Guy. I’m not pulling any more—” That was as far as I got before I had to duck. Laura’s clenched fist whistled over my head and went right into the wall.

She hissed in pain, yanked her hand free, and whipped around so fast she’d given me an eye-​watering slap before I knew what was happening.

“This isn’t striking you as just a little bit psychotic?” I asked. Too bad Laura wasn’t bleeding; I could really have used my fangs about now.

“You’re the psychotic. Running around saving vampires instead of killing them, it’s nonsense.”

“I’ve killed some vampires,” I whined.

“I have been trying to save your soul.”

We were stalking each other, circling warily. “My soul’s fine. But you need to be on medication.”

I could hear tons of racket from the other room—Sinclair, taking on the thirty or so devil worshippers by himself. I couldn’t help him; I could only pray he wouldn’t get badly hurt.

“I destroy evil, so I should be medicated?”

“You’ve appointed yourself judge, jury, and executioner.”

“They’re vampires!”

“So am I. Are you going to kill me, too?”

“No,” she said sulkily. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“Laura, what’s wrong with you? What happened while we were gone?”

“Marc gave me an epiphany.”

“What is that, an STD?”

She rolled her eyes. “He solved a big problem for me. He showed me the light.”

“I’ll show you a light.” I seized her by the hair (cat fight!), yanked her down sharply, and brought my knee up into her nose, which broke with a soft crunch.

Laura screamed. My sister was screaming. And bleeding. Here came my fangs—at the worst possible time. Just what Laura needed to see—a physical reminder that I was one of the evil beings she was trying to wipe off the planet.

I brought my hand up to hide my lips. “Laura, I think if we dithcuth thith, we can—”

Something bright swung toward me, something that shone like a small sun, something that hurt to look at. I ducked . . . and Laura’s Hellfire sword whistled over my head.

Oh, this was getting better and better. First, the psychotic break. Then the red hair. Now her weapons. Laura could pull a sword, a crossbow, whatever, out of thin air and no matter what shape the weapon took, it was fatal to vampires.

And their queen.