Undead and Unappreciated by MaryJanice Davidson Page B

she’d probably be annoyed with me. I also left out the daughter of the devil angle. Mom was broad-minded, but it was best to give her the info in digestible chunks.
    â€œâ€¦and Jess is still hiding from me—she sleeps at night now, behind a locked door. She used to stay up all night because I was up all night. I really screwed the pooch, Mom. Pardon my French. I think the worst part is, I’m in a mess that’s totally of my own making. Sinclair warned me about the Book, but I didn’t listen. And Jess paid for it. Everybody paid for it.”
    â€œYou did, too, honey,” my mom said, her eyes soft with sympathy. Ahhhh. A mother’s love…it was like slipping into a sauna—warm, yet hard to breathe. “You’re still paying for it. Of course, Jessica is upset. But you’ve been friends since the seventh grade. A little felony assault isn’t going to change that.”
    â€œDo you think so?”
    â€œYes,” she said firmly, and I started to perk right up. “Your friendship survived death. It’ll recover from this. Just keep apologizing. Do it every single day. Besides, a little remorse will do you good, dear.”
    â€œThanks, Mom.”
    â€œI take it Tina and Marc have forgiven you?”
    â€œYeah, seems like it. Tina never seemed mad about it in the first place, and Marc’s a little tense around me, but he treats me nice and all. It’s just Jessica.” And Sinclair. But there was only so much I could stand to tell her about my own piss-poor behavior.
    â€œHoney, it wasn’t your fault. It was that Book. Bound in skin and written in human blood, you say? It must be ancient…possibly predating—well—everything.” Her eyes were seeing me and far away at the same time; I’d seen that look before. “What I wouldn’t give to—you say you keep it in your library?”
    â€œMom. Seriously. If I see you near that thing, I’ll throw it in the fireplace. I might do it anyway. No Book for you.” So she’d know I wasn’t kidding, I went Soup Nazi on her. We were both gigantic Seinfeld fans. “ No Book for you!”
    â€œBetsy, you can’t.” She was all somber and reproachful. Not a big fan of book-burning, my mom. “It’s literally priceless. Think of what we could—”
    â€œIt’s a priceless pain in my big white butt. You don’t go anywhere near it, get me? The thing’s been around forever, and even Sinclair hasn’t read it all—just enough to torture me with. I mean it, Mom. Promise you won’t try to check it out.”
    â€œI promise if you promise not to burn it.”
    â€œFine, I promise. And thanks for the escape hatch, but I can’t blame the Book for how I acted after. Nobody stuck a gun in my ear and made me read it. It was my choice. And I’ve got to make it up with Jess.”
    â€œWell, keep trying to apologize. You’ll have more time to do that, now.” She looked out the window again.
    I leaned down and rested my head on her shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll keep at it.”
    She rubbed my back, and we watched the sun go down together.

Chapter 17
    â€œI t took some doing,” Marc said into the baby monitor, “but we got it figured out. Over.”
    â€œIt’s not a walkie-talkie, and you’re not a trucker,” I said, exasperated. “And how much doing could it have taken? You started last night.”
    â€œHey, next time you track down Damien. Whose name is Laura, by the way.”
    We were in the kitchen—everyone but Jessica—and I was getting the scoop on my lost-now-found sister. The three of them were unanimous in their dislike of screaming at Jessica’s closed door, so Marc had picked up a set of baby monitors. He’d popped one into Jessica’s room that morning, while she was out and the rest of us were conked. She couldn’t have