Heather.
Chapter 9
“ I understand you don’t believe me, sir. I wouldn’t either were I in your shoes, but your life is in danger.” Graying would come in handy at the moment, evidence to push our point home. But the mom and dad didn’t give a crap what happened to Heather and they were more annoyed with our presence than interested in the message we brought. I felt like a friggin’ missionary knocking on a “No Solicitors” sign.
Mr. McCain leaned forward in his large chair. Everything was large in the house. Everything but the owner. Real overcompensation was going on, but it looked like he had the bank account to support super-sized living. He curled his lip at me. It wasn’t pretty. “Look, kid. There’s no such thing as zombies. You say you’re one? I want to know what you really want. Money? Heather’s is locked up until she turns eighteen or I die. Neither of which are happening tonight, do you understand? You knock her up? Not my problem. She’ll get it taken care of, and you don’t need to be involved. As far as I see it, there’s no need for you to be here, spreading your stories.”
He pointed his short finger at Heather and I bristled. He was like Dominic but tiny. “Missy, I don’t know what you’re doing and I don’t care. This is the last straw. You’ll leave for boarding school next week. Until that time, get to your room. You’re grounded. Nothing – no friends, phones, TV, books, nothing until you’re out of my house. Understand?”
Mrs. McCain stared over everyone’s heads and twirled the ends of the robe tie in her fingers, perfectly poised, perfectly bored. I was tempted to make her perfectly dead.
Heather nodded, her eyes focused on the floor somewhere. I couldn’t believe the same girl sat next to me who had shoved me and held a knife on me. Had her dad hypnotized them, too?
I stood, grateful for my height, and crossed my arms. “No. She’s not doing anything of the sort. Heather is in danger. You’re in danger. You might not want to face it but it’s there.” I leaned down and grabbed Heather’s hand, the feel of her skin on mine tingled more than before – the food was wearing off. Her dark eyes had focused on me, hope in her gaze. I squared my shoulders. “She’s coming with me, even if you don’t want to. Understand?”
His eyes narrowed. The small man grew as he stood on the couch, puffing his chest out and leaning his head back in an odd rooster pose, claiming his territory. His voice boomed. “You will do nothing of the sort. I refuse to be talked to in this way by a —”
An explosion cut through the back of the house. Mr. McCain fell to the floor from his high chair.
I curled my arms around Heather, protecting her from the falling debris and dust. Mrs. McCain fell to the cushions of the couch, her whimpers smothered behind her hand.
Heather’s father crawled under the coffee table and grabbed his wife’s leg, pulling himself up and grunting. Coughs filled the room from Heather and her parents.
Shoving Heather into the corner behind an oversized vase, I blocked her with my body.
Dominic picked his way over rubble littering the hall. Nothing had changed, except his clothing to a sleek shiny business suit. Grace filled his steps and he seemed more adept at handling himself. The three red scratches screamed in his even paler face. Red smears around his mouth suggested a lack of control.
I started to relax, dropping my hands from the wall. I could take him. Easy. His tardiness in arriving at the McCains’ helped foster the doubt about his abilities. He was like me, but I had experience on my side. Bastard was going to be fun to beat the hell out of.
I started forward but stopped by the presence of a new creature in his shadow, even more like me. His broad shoulders and lanky legs pushed him taller than Dominic, taller than me. Shaggy hair brushed his defined jaw and the tops of his ears. But his eyes. The light flashing in his
Chapter 9
“ I understand you don’t believe me, sir. I wouldn’t either were I in your shoes, but your life is in danger.” Graying would come in handy at the moment, evidence to push our point home. But the mom and dad didn’t give a crap what happened to Heather and they were more annoyed with our presence than interested in the message we brought. I felt like a friggin’ missionary knocking on a “No Solicitors” sign.
Mr. McCain leaned forward in his large chair. Everything was large in the house. Everything but the owner. Real overcompensation was going on, but it looked like he had the bank account to support super-sized living. He curled his lip at me. It wasn’t pretty. “Look, kid. There’s no such thing as zombies. You say you’re one? I want to know what you really want. Money? Heather’s is locked up until she turns eighteen or I die. Neither of which are happening tonight, do you understand? You knock her up? Not my problem. She’ll get it taken care of, and you don’t need to be involved. As far as I see it, there’s no need for you to be here, spreading your stories.”
He pointed his short finger at Heather and I bristled. He was like Dominic but tiny. “Missy, I don’t know what you’re doing and I don’t care. This is the last straw. You’ll leave for boarding school next week. Until that time, get to your room. You’re grounded. Nothing – no friends, phones, TV, books, nothing until you’re out of my house. Understand?”
Mrs. McCain stared over everyone’s heads and twirled the ends of the robe tie in her fingers, perfectly poised, perfectly bored. I was tempted to make her perfectly dead.
Heather nodded, her eyes focused on the floor somewhere. I couldn’t believe the same girl sat next to me who had shoved me and held a knife on me. Had her dad hypnotized them, too?
I stood, grateful for my height, and crossed my arms. “No. She’s not doing anything of the sort. Heather is in danger. You’re in danger. You might not want to face it but it’s there.” I leaned down and grabbed Heather’s hand, the feel of her skin on mine tingled more than before – the food was wearing off. Her dark eyes had focused on me, hope in her gaze. I squared my shoulders. “She’s coming with me, even if you don’t want to. Understand?”
His eyes narrowed. The small man grew as he stood on the couch, puffing his chest out and leaning his head back in an odd rooster pose, claiming his territory. His voice boomed. “You will do nothing of the sort. I refuse to be talked to in this way by a —”
An explosion cut through the back of the house. Mr. McCain fell to the floor from his high chair.
I curled my arms around Heather, protecting her from the falling debris and dust. Mrs. McCain fell to the cushions of the couch, her whimpers smothered behind her hand.
Heather’s father crawled under the coffee table and grabbed his wife’s leg, pulling himself up and grunting. Coughs filled the room from Heather and her parents.
Shoving Heather into the corner behind an oversized vase, I blocked her with my body.
Dominic picked his way over rubble littering the hall. Nothing had changed, except his clothing to a sleek shiny business suit. Grace filled his steps and he seemed more adept at handling himself. The three red scratches screamed in his even paler face. Red smears around his mouth suggested a lack of control.
I started to relax, dropping my hands from the wall. I could take him. Easy. His tardiness in arriving at the McCains’ helped foster the doubt about his abilities. He was like me, but I had experience on my side. Bastard was going to be fun to beat the hell out of.
I started forward but stopped by the presence of a new creature in his shadow, even more like me. His broad shoulders and lanky legs pushed him taller than Dominic, taller than me. Shaggy hair brushed his defined jaw and the tops of his ears. But his eyes. The light flashing in his
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