Dressed To Slay. Harper Allen
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I was looking at a homemade silver bullet, I realized slowly, and somewhere under the sofa were the materials for two more. If Lance and Todd hadn’t sunk their fangs into my sisters’ necks yet, I might still save them.
Even as the wild hope ran through me, I dropped to my knees and began feeling under the sofa. I snagged one chain, scrabbled farther under the sofa to snag the other and leapt to my feet. The next moment I was racing to the kitchen, dropping the first chain and cross down the barrel of Popsie’s revolver as I ran.
“Nuh-uh.” The scornful tones of Tash came from halfway up the staircase. “Bullets don’t work. Neither does Mace, as I found out. You gotta use one of these, apparently.”
She held up a broken length of wood. From the pineapple carving that topped it, I recognized it as part of one of her canopy bed’s posts but I didn’t waste time with questions.
“Throw it here! I’ll use it to stake Lance—”
“Sorry, sweetie, I already took care of him.” Kat’s drawl sounded a little ragged around the edges and her Alexander McQueen bustier top was destined to join my ruined skirt in the garbage, but she mustered a weak smile as she brandished a broken wooden mixing spoon. “I thought you two might need backup, but it looks like all three of us did good on the vamp-slaying, no?” She made a little moue with her lips. “Now that’s a sentence I never thought I’d ever say. I don’t know about you two, but I really need normal right now. Anyone up for a little drink—”
“Foolish!”
The thickly accented rumble came from the doorway. It says volumes for the Crosse triplets’ state of alertness that we simply stared at the figure who had delivered it instead of rushing at him with our weapons. Tash recovered first.
“We deny you entrance to our home’s threshold,” she said swiftly. She frowned. “And that means to our home, too, if you need it spelled out. Like, you can’t come in. You need our permission and we totally withhold it and deny it and—”
“Did you remove holy protections out of vanity? Did you think they were simple baubles?” As our unexpected visitor thundered across Tash’s babbling he stepped forward and entered the house. “I believed those who bore my blood would have more wisdom, but I was wrong. Your foolishness almost brought you death!”
Whoever he was, since he’d been able to enter without our permission, he wasn’t a vamp. He looked to be about Popsie’s age or maybe a little older, and his accent sounded Russian. A homespun cloak was flung over his shoulders and a heavy gold ring glinted on his left hand, but the most striking thing about him were his eyes. They were dark and piercing, and right now they were regarding us with less disapproval than when he’d entered.
“However, your courage and skill saved you, so I pray is still hope for you.” He swept off his cloak and inclined his head in an oddly formal gesture. “Forgive me, I have not properly presented myself. My name is Anton Dzarchertzyn…but if is easier, you may call me Grandfather Darkheart.”
Chapter 3
“And you can call me from hell when you get there, creep!”
“No, Tash! He’s not a vam—” Before I could finish my warning my youngest sister launched her pineapple post in an overhand throw. As I leaped toward the old man, hoping to push him out of the way, I saw the missile slice unerringly through the air at his chest.
Something huge and black blurred across my sight line. I heard a furious growl as the shape propelled itself upward, and then the hell beast was upon me, Tash’s post between its slavering jaws. I fell backward, my attention fully focused on the enormous dog standing over me, his teeth no longer clamped into part of Tash’s canopy bed but bared inches from my throat.
Wolflike golden eyes held mine. A wolflike silver-tipped ruff stood up around a snarling wolfish face and massively muscled wolflike front legs were planted on either side of me.
“Call off your damn wolf.” Kat’s voice was steady, but then, she wasn’t the one in danger of becoming a canine snack. “This gun might not be much use against vamps but I’m pretty sure it could blow White Fang there to kingdom come.”
“Mikhail, release!”
The man who was trying to pass himself off as our dead grandfather gave the command sharply. The animal—I really wished Kat hadn’t used the W-word—let a low growl trickle from its throat. It slowly backed up until it was standing by its master and gave me a final burning glance before bounding out through the open front door into the night.
I got to my feet. I had a sliver in my butt, I’d ruined an outfit and I’d gotten way too up-close and personal with pointed white teeth in the past hour. Add in the fact that my fiancé had made a deal that included him getting turned into a vamp in return for killing me and you’ll understand why my party manners were a little the worse for wear as I turned to our visitor.
Doing a good impersonation of a marine drill instructor minus the flying spittle, I shoved my face close to his and pointed at the door. “Your scam’s not going to work. We happen to know that our Grandfather Darch…Grandfather Dzark…”
“He said we could call him Darkheart,” Tash supplied from the stairs.
I ignored her. “We know our mom’s father died years ago, so whoever you are and whatever you’re after, you screwed up! You’re lucky you happened to catch us in the middle of a situation that puts you near the bottom of our headache list for now, but if you and your highly illegal pet aren’t off this property in three seconds I’m calling the police!”
“And the dogcatcher,” Tash threatened. “Even if you can afford to bail Cujo out of the pound, they’re still going to make you pay for the snip-snip operation they give all strays. So if you don’t want—”
From the darkness outside came a growl. I cut Tash short. “One.” I folded my arms. “Two.” The old man stared steadily back at me and I felt my confidence begin to evaporate. He was obviously some kind of kook, dressed the way he was and with a semi-tame wolf as a sidekick. What if he refused to leave? I glanced sideways at Kat and saw from her frown that she was thinking along the same lines as I was.
The three of us had just whacked our fiancés. Granted, there weren’t any bodies lying around, but there was definite evidence something had happened here tonight. And although Dean’s no-show status at our wedding tomorrow might be chalked up to cold feet and Todd’s and Lance’s absence at the same function as solidarity with his sudden desire to stay a bachelor, eventually an investigation would be launched into their disappearances. Did I really want a report on file stating that the night before the ceremony, the home of the missing men’s future brides had resembled a war zone, with said brides looking suspiciously like the survivors of said zone?
“If we call the police we’ll have to file a complaint and we won’t get to bed for hours, Meg,” Kat said with elaborate casualness. “Since we weren’t taken in by our visitor’s con there’s really no harm done. I say we let him leave—”
“One will be striking talons of eagle!” the old man interrupted harshly. “One will warn of coming danger and third will fly into core of darkness! By blood of all slayers before you, including mother, is vital you believe. Battle has already begun and we have no time to waste!”
He didn’t know it, but he’d blown it. Halfway through his eagle rant I’d been one wide-eyed gasp away from throwing skepticism to the wind, even though I knew there was a possibility he’d been lurking outside the house and had heard Kat when she’d said those very same words. But by bringing our mother into his little scam he’d pushed the envelope too far.
Grammie and Popsie have always done their best to make Mom and Daddy real for us. But Kat and Tash and I have an unspoken agreement to leave the subject of our mother…well, unspoken between us. When the Russian made the mistake of trying