Garnet Lacey - Dead If I Do Part 6

He shook his head. "Takes time."

"Should we wrap it or something?"

"That would be helpful," he agreed.

So I needed to get him into the farmhouse. Problem was, Benjamin the killer ghost would frica.s.see another vampire in Sebastian's house.

"Hang on," I said. I ran up the drive to the door. I put my hand on the ward and opened the door with my key. Stepping over the threshold, I felt the heat of the interior on my cheeks. "Benjamin?" I called softly. "I need to let another vampire in for a moment. He's a friend, he . . ."

The lights flickered.

"It'll only be for a second." A lamp tipped over and smashed onto the floor.

"Okay, I'll just get what I need." I ran upstairs to the bathroom. In the cabinet, I found some gauze and medical tape. I grabbed them, even as I felt a cold breath at my neck. "He was burned," I told Benjamin. "By Tereza."

The atmosphere changed instantly. The cold at my neck disappeared and was replaced by a pleasant warmth. I got the sense Parrish would be welcome. Apparently Benjamin disliked Tereza more than the idea of another vampire.

"Should I go get him? Bring him in?"

Nothing broke or flickered. That seemed like a good sign. I grabbed the stuff and bounded down the stairs.

"I think you can come in," I told Parrish.

Parrish appeared at the door using that freaky undead speed again. "Shouldn't you be more formal?"

"Like you really need that," I muttered. I knew he didn't. Previously, he had a tendency to break into my apartment on a regular basis. "Please come in, Daniel Parrish," I said. "But only tonight."

He snorted, "A caveat, I see."

"Like any of it matters," I said with a roll of my eyes. "You don't really need an invite. Do you?"

Parrish gave me an I'll-never-tell-you smile. Cradling his hand, he stepped in the door. He looked around the room slowly, no doubt taking in the mult.i.tude of books and expensive furniture. "Well," he sniffed, plopping himself down on the suede sofa. "Isn't this cozy?"

Yeah, he was jealous. He might have the accent, but Parrish was never aristocracy. In life, he had been a carriage robber, a highwayman. I could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes as his gaze calculated the value of each object in the room. The books must have baffled him. I'm not sure Parrish had ever learned to read beyond a sixth grade level, if that.

Barney, who had always been fond of Parrish, came out from wherever she'd been hiding and plopped herself down in his lap.

He reached down with his uninjured hand to pet her. She purred loudly.

Benjamin rustled the curtains. He might have decided to let Parrish stay, but apparently he wanted me to know that if Barney liked Parrish, he most certainly did not. I shook my head at the absurdity of the ghost 's rivalry with my cat. "Let me see your hand," I said to Parrish.

Parrish offered me his hand. The skin of his fingers and palms had puffed up and seemed weepy and wet. His hand was an angry red mess. "I'm afraid to touch it," I said.

The door opened. Cold air rushed in, and I looked up to see Sebastian frowning at the tableau of me kneeling before Parrish. I stood up quickly, despite how guilty it made me look. Before Sebastian could even open his mouth, I said, "I can explain."

Sebastian's eyes strayed to the shards of broken vase on the rug, and his frown deepened. His jaw flexed, but he turned to hang up his coat. "Okay," he said.

"Tereza was here," I said. Touching my cheek where Tereza's fingernails had scratched, I continued quickly. "She attacked me and burned Parrish with her magic."

"It's true," Parrish said, standing up. "I'd come to congratulate you both on your upcoming nuptials."

"I'll bet you had," Sebastian's voice was tight with anger.

Parrish ignored his tone. Though he closed it, Sebastian stood at the door with snow melting on his boots. I hadn 't moved either. I held the gauze and tape outstretched in my hands as if to say, "Here's proof my intentions were innocent." Parrish was the only one of us who managed to look the least bit comfortable. Though he cradled his injured hand close to his chest, the other stroked Barney. She stood on the arm of the couch and b.u.mped her cheek against his knuckles, undaunted after having been dumped off his lap when he'd stood up suddenly.

"The zompire is quite the creation," Parrish said. "Yours, I take it?"

"The what?" Sebastian said, looking to me for explanation.

I was about to answer, when Parrish said, "Zompire. Or do you prefer vambie?" A bit of an evil smile quirked at the edge of Parrish's lips as he spoke. "I take it you had some trouble turning that one?"

"It's no joking matter," Sebastian snapped. "No, I imagine not," Parrish said. "An undead wife makes marriage a bit complicated, doesn't it?"

"That's none of your business," Sebastian said, taking a step forward. "And we were never married."

"Ah, so the child is a b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Parrish said casually, as though he were remarking on the color of the curtains.

Sebastian momentarily started, as though slapped, but then quickly regained his composure enough to offer a wry smile that implied he might be inclined to agree, but he wasn't willing to give Parrish the point. "Keep my family out of this," he said. "You're uninvited, nightwalker. I suggest you leave."

I cleared my throat. "Uh, actually, technically I invited him in." Sebastian's face tightened as though he'd suddenly contracted a headache. I moved to quickly take Sebastian's hand. "Look, honey, Parrish just needs to bandage his hand. Then he's leaving."

Parrish flashed me a hurt expression as if I'd all but chucked him out into the snow on the spot. I gave him the what-did-you- want-me-to-say? eyebrow quirk in return.

Sebastian glanced at Parrish's wound. "It looks bad. I served as a medic in World War Two," he said, taking the bandages and tape from me. "I'll dress it for you."

Parrish offered his hand, though there was a trace of sarcasm in his tone as he said, "You're a true gentleman, sir."

Sebastian snorted but gently inspected the burn. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped it in a clean bandage. "You're a fool to come here," he said, as he taped off a very neat turn of gauze. "You have no claim to Garnet."

"Yet your heart is divided," he said quietly as he admired Sebastian's ministrations.

"No, it's not," Sebastian said, looking directly at me.

The intensity of Sebastian's look made my heart flutter. Despite myself, I doubted him a little. I knew Sebastian loved me, but Tereza was more than just some past fling. She was his son's mother.

Parrish's nod was curt. "I see. Well, I look forward to the ceremony. I wish you both well." He tipped an imaginary hat and made his way to the door. With his hand on the k.n.o.b, he paused. Over his shoulder, Parrish said, "A medic in the Second World War? Hitler was an Austrian, too, wasn't he?"

Sebastian stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. "I believe you were leaving."

Parrish nodded knowingly. "Well, then, good night to you both."

Sebastian was agitated the rest of the night. Over a midnight snack of peppermint ice cream with hot fudge, I told him all the gory details of my encounter with Tereza. He nodded absently as he cleared the dishes. In bed, after we'd changed and done all our settling in rituals, he finally said, "I want you to know I was never a n.a.z.i."

"I never thought you were, Sebastian," I said quite honestly. In fact, I tended to forget that Sebastian had actually lived through things I'd only skimmed over in my high school history textbook.

"I fought in Africa with Rommel."

I blinked at him.

"The Desert Fox," he tried.

It still wasn't ringing any bells. I stretched my knowledge of the events of World War Two, until I had a vague inkling. "That would make you on the wrong side, wouldn't it? I thought you just said . . ."

"Things are more obvious in hindsight," he said, perching on the edge of the bed. He wore blue and green flannel pajama bottoms. I could see the scar from the sword that pierced his heart. "If I had known . . ." He shook his head. "I thought . . . the economy, you see. National pride . . . I never saw. . . . No. No. There are no excuses."

I stood there with my mouth agape; I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing.

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

"No," I said reflexively. "I will." I grabbed a pillow.

As I pa.s.sed him on my way out, without looking up, he said, "What have you done about Guantanamo or Abu Ghraib, eh?

What horrors have you allowed?" "That's different," I said.

"Is it? Only time will tell."

I hated to admit he had a point. "I'm still sleeping on the couch."

"And I'll be here in the morning."

Turns out, Sebastian didn't have to wait until morning for me to forgive him. The couch has never been terribly comfortable, and the temperature dropped in the middle of night, making the skimpy blanket I 'd dragged out of the hall closet completely useless. Plus I could feel Benjamin watching me. I woke up at one point when he was stroking my hair. I 'd been dreaming about some strange combination of the Inquisition and the n.a.z.is. When I startled awake at Benjamin's touch, I realized this whole issue was so terribly complicated even my subconscious couldn't untangle it. I believed Sebastian when he said he wasn't involved in n.a.z.i politics, but it was hard to jibe the idea of him fighting for Hitler with the man I knew.

I rubbed my face. I wasn't going to resolve my feelings about it tonight. I might as well sleep in the comfortable bed.

The stairs creaked as I climbed them, and the blanket I'd wrapped around my shoulders trailed behind me like the train of a wedding dress. Benjamin followed behind, making the floorboards pop a second time in echo. Pale squares of moonlight checkered the hall.

On the bed in our room, Sebastian's body stretched under the covers at an awkward angle. He lay completely still. He looked dead. Other vampires slept in coffins or underground, but Sebastian lay exactly as he'd fallen in battle, his head twisted to the side and his hands cradling the spot where he'd been run through by the enemy's sword. It was as though he died again every night.

Barney had curled up in the crook of one of his arms. Her chin rested on his elbow.

When I started sleeping over, I wondered if I'd ever get used to seeing him that way. I crawled in my side and spooned up against his partially arched back as I always did. When he was like this, his body was heavy and stiff, but I'd found I could move him a little with some determination. So I s.h.i.+fted him onto his side and held on tight. It seemed to me that, even though he slept at night like I did, this was the time when Sebastian was at his most vulnerable. I tried to s.h.i.+eld as much of his body with my own as I could. After tucking the extra blanket around us without disturbing the cat, I fell asleep.

Sometime after two A.M. I heard Matyas come in. I used to be a sound sleeper, but ever since Benjamin started paying extra attention to me at night, I found even the slightest thing woke me. I slid out of bed and padded down the stairs with the blanket around my shoulders.

He was getting bedding from the linen closet when I came up to him. He jumped when I cleared my throat.

"Jesus, Garnet, I thought you were Benjamin!"

I put my hands on my hips. "Your mother set Parrish's hand on fire. She scratched me. This is getting ridiculous. Call her off." I almost added: "Oh, and did you know your dad fought for Hilter?" But then I thought better of it. I needed to keep focused on Tereza.

I needn't have worried. He completely ignored me anyway. He tucked a pillow under his arm. "Hey," he said, pointing.

"You've got my favorite blanket. Give that back."

"What are you hoping to gain by siccing her on us?" I asked, even as I handed over the blanket.

Matyas absently folded the blanket over his arm and then set it on the couch. He moved over to the fireplace and began setting up the makings of a fire.

Exasperated, I followed behind. I watched as he crumpled up some newspaper to tuck under a pile of sticks. "You can't seriously hope that Sebastian will abandon me in favor of your mother. We're getting married in two weeks. The invitations have been sent. The food is ordered."

Placing a heavy, seasoned log on top of the paper and kindling, he struck a match from the box Sebastian kept on the mantel.

The paper caught immediately. The sticks crackled. Matyas crouched in front of the fire, watching it burn. "She needs him more than you do," he said. I frowned at his back. "What do you think Sebastian can do for her? Isn't it his fault she's the way she is?"

Using the blackened steel poker from the stand, Matyas jabbed at the log. Sparks flew. "She needs a Sire," he said. "She needs guidance. She needs someone to teach her how to be what she's become."

Despite myself, I understood. From what Sebastian and Parrish have told me, I knew becoming a vampire wasn 't an easy transition. There was that whole life-after-life thing, and I couldn't even begin to imagine how to deal with procuring victims, not to mention the fact that Tereza had the handicap of major culture shock having been functionally dead for a hundred -plus years. I nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure she does need help to adjust," I said. "He should be there for her."

Matyas turned to look at me.

"What?" I asked, seeing his shocked expression. "Is it such a surprise I'm sympathetic?"

He laughed. "Actually, it is."

"Well, get over it," I said. "I don't have a problem with Sebastian wanting or even needing to help Tereza learn how to function as a vampire. What I have a problem with is her trying to kill him. And me. And setting Parrish 's hand on fire. Are you sure she's-well, up for all this? I mean, she was dead a long time. That might have affected her emotional state a little bit, don't you think?"

Matyas dropped his smile. "She's fine. She's just having a little trouble adjusting."

h.e.l.lo, denial. "Oh," I said, because as someone well-practiced with denial, I knew that there wasn't much else I could really say. "Okay."

"She'll be fine," he insisted as he put the grate in front of the now-roaring fire. "If Papa would just spend some time with her, everything would be all right."

Sure it would, I thought, after Tereza kills us all. But I didn't say that. Instead, I put a hand on Matyas's shoulder. He stiffened under my touch, but I gave him a quick squeeze before dropping my hand. "Everything is mostly taken care of for the wedding," I said. "I don't see why Sebastian couldn't spend some time with Tereza. You know, see if there's anything he can do. I'll talk to him about it in the morning."

It actually sounded like a good idea. I mean, who's to say it wouldn't help her? Unlike Parrish, Sebastian seemed to be able to hold his own against her. He had the advantage of blood magic or whatever his hold was over her. Plus, as long as nothing else with the wedding fell apart, it wasn't like there was that much to do at this point. I'd been feeling as though Tereza cursed me, but maybe I was being silly and superst.i.tious about that. And even so, I could always do a spell of protection to ward off any negative energy she might be sending. Heck, that was probably a good idea anyway.

Matyas looked at me as though he wasn't quite sure he believed this sudden burst of generosity, so I added, "Seriously, Matyas. I'll talk to him."

"Okay," he said, as he stood up. "I guess that's a start."

"Where is Tereza now?"

He shook his head and gave a rueful laugh. "I told you before: I don't know where she goes."

"Don't you have a safe house for her or anything?"

"Yes, there's a place she's supposed to go, but my mother has been somewhat"-he searched for the right word for a moment, before deciding on-"unpredictable, lately."