Dead If I Do (6 page)

I took a deep breath, reminding myself to deal with one thing at a time. “Just how powerful is Teréza, Sebastian?”

He shrugged his shoulder and glanced off to the side. Through my magical vision, Sebastian always seemed paler, hungrier —

more dead, actually. The black hole where his aura should be stood out starkly with its absence. “Stronger than me,” he said.

“Seriously? Is that possible? You’re a vampire!”

“There are things stronger than vampires. Remember the Trickster God?” How could I forget him? Micah had been the one that triggered my bonding with Lilith—plus he was a total hottie. “Anyway,” Sebastian continued, “Teréza’s people have been practicing magic for a long time.”

Gypsy magic: If there really was a famtrad—a family tradition of hereditary magic—Romany blood would be one. I blinked myself back to normal vision. Lilith rippled across my skin, itching for a fight. The band might have canceled, but if we didn’t track down Teréza soon, we could have a scene like this at the church. I could live with a polka band. My friends would think it was retro and hip. But the tele-porting zombie ex was another problem, one I did not want popping in on my wedding day.

“We have to find Teréza, Sebastian. Now. But she could be anywhere,” I said, considering out loud. “I say let’s go to the source.”

Sebastian perked up. “You mean blood magic?”

“No,” I said. “Mátyás.”

Third Aspect: Square

KEY WORDS:
Combative, Individualistic

We found Mátyás at Holy Grounds. Besides hanging
out with Izzy, Mátyás and William had taken to playing games like speed chess and Go at the coffee shop. Their obsession with those sorts of tactical/intellectual pastimes had gotten so intense that I’d begun to suspect William’s latest new religion was strategy. My theory was bolstered by the fact that just the other day I ’d caught William poring over Sun Tzu’s
The Art of War
during his lunch hour. The coffee shop was nearly empty. After the briskness of the evening air, the peppermint-mocha warmth felt a bit stifling. The heat steamed the ice particles in my hair.

Snowflakes had been stenciled on the window in that ubiquitous powdery spray paint. The rest of the place had been decorated with everything from Santa-cap-wearing Buddhas to Chanukah menorahs. The only thing traditionally Christmassy was the electric faux fireplace set up in the back by the couches and the constant Christmas music that streamed over the speakers. Izzy looked up from behind the bar when the door swung open. Izzy always reminded me of that famous bust of Nefertiti, especially now that her dreads had grown to reach her shoulder, and she often held her hair away from her face with a scarf. Her skin was the warm color of the mochas she served, and her features had a regal cut I deeply envied. She ’d been experimenting with fashion too. Tonight, Izzy went for that whole naughty British schoolgirl look and wore a man’s button-down shirt, a necktie, and a knee-length pleated wool skirt.

Seeing us, she smiled. I waved back, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to smile in return. I was on the warpath. My wedding was potentially at stake, and someone was going to pay.

Mátyás and William perched on opposite chairs hunched over a game of Risk. William’s hair was short-cropped and frosted blond. I wasn’t quite sure what kind of image he was going for, but with the little round glasses perched on the end of his nose, he looked a bit like a sexed-up Radar O’Reilly from
M*A*S*H
or James Spader in the movie
Stargate
. Izzy came out from behind the bar to join Sebastian and me as we approached them. “What’s going on?” she asked. Mátyás glanced up. From what I could tell, he’d taken most of Europe and Asia and was clearly advancing on the South Pacific. William’s extracurricular reading didn’t seem to be helping him.

I opened my mouth, but Sebastian beat me to it. “Where is she?” he demanded.

“Who?” You’d think Mátyás would know better than to try the innocent act on his father. Sebastian ground his teeth together angrily, and I wasn ’t sure he was going to say anything constructive, so I said, “Your mother.” Then, just to be crystal clear, I added, “Teréza.”

Mátyás quickly looked over his shoulder as if worried she might be hovering there. Then he glanced from Izzy to me, avoiding looking at Sebastian. “Uh . . . I don’t really know. I sort of lost track of her.”

“Lost track?” Sebastian sputtered.

“You have a mother living around here?” Izzy asked with a tone that implied she felt she should have heard about this before now, and Mátyás was down a couple of relationship points. I smiled.

“Living? I thought your mother was dead,” William said, his attention still divided between the conversation and the game. He had the kind of vaguely guilty look of someone who really wanted to take advantage of Mátyás ’s distraction and change the board.

Meanwhile, Adam Sandler serenaded us with “The Chanukah Song.”

“Either way,” I said. “Teréza certainly found us.”

Mátyás’s face tightened for a moment, but then he smiled up at us. “Seriously? She was up and walking? That’s fantastic. Did she
say
anything?”

She had cursed Sebastian and me. Was this some kind of breakthrough Mátyás was hoping for? Actually, she had said, “I curse you.” She could have talking to both of us . . . or to
me
.

“That’s not the point, Mátyás,” Sebastian said. “Your mother tried to kill me.”

Mátyás sat up, clearly excited by the news. He wasn’t winning any points with his father, however, whose face grew darker.

“I can’t believe it,” Mátyás said happily. “You’re suggesting she was strong enough to try to hurt you?”

“You sound a little creepy when you say things like that, honey,” Izzy said drily, like she’d talked to him about this sort of thing before.

“I still don’t get how she could do any of it dead,” William said, his eyes still on the board. My phone rang. “Livin’ La Vida Loca” again. “Oh, what now?” I was tempted to let it go, but I knew it had to be a wedding thing. What could be going wrong now? I took a few steps away from everyone, even though I could hear Sebastian telling Mátyás to cut the crap and start telling us what was going on with Teréza.

It was the dress shop. They were calling to confirm that my bridesmaids’ dresses were salmon-pink taffeta. “No!” I shouted.

“Silk. Ice blue.”

I looked at Izzy. She was meant to be my maid of honor, and I’d picked a color that not only went with the season but that would also complement her skin tone. “The color is really important,” I explained, not to mention the fact that the style I’d chosen was a simple sheath that could be reused as a cocktail dress. The ones the shop described had a giant butt-bow. I moaned. They could replace them, but it would take time. “How long?”

A couple of weeks, they thought. Maybe. “Maybe?” I repeated, horrified. “My wedding is in two weeks
exactly
.”

They’d do their best. My hand was shaking when I slipped my phone back into my coat pocket. Lilith surged through my veins, a hot pulse at my throat.

“All right, I’ve had it,” I snapped. Before I knew quite what I was doing, I’d swept Mátyás out of his chair. Balling his shirt in my fists, I shoved him hard against the bookcase. “What’s going on? Am I cursed or something? Did your freaky stalker mother hex me?”

I moved so fast that the chair hit the floor two seconds after I heard the air leave Mátyás’s lungs. Did I mention Lilith’s hair trigger?

It was all I could do to keep Lilith from battering Mátyás ’s head against the shelves. Over the roar of emotion, Sebastian’s voice shouted for me to stand down. Izzy was yelling something too, but it was William’s calm, soothing tones that reached me: “.

. . you are wise, oh Goddess. Mátyás is truly an idiot, but I humbly beg you to spare his worthless life.”

I took in a breath. I felt Lilith’s anger recede as William continued to purr platitudes into my ear. Mátyás’s eyes bugged out a little less as my grip on his throat loosened.

The funny part in all this was that Mátyás outweighed me by at least fifty pounds. He was also nearly six feet tall. When I realized I was standing on tiptoe to hold him up, I uncurled my fingers and lowered myself back down. A blush slid across my cheeks.

William, who had been creeping closer and closer to me, rushed in to support Mátyás when I released him. Mátyás clutched at his throat and concentrated on breathing. Sebastian’s face was impassive, but I could tell he was watching Mátyás and me with concern. Izzy had stopped yelling, but as she slipped past me to comfort Mátyás, she was still muttering about anger-management courses and unmedicated craziness.

A random female customer hooted out a “You go, girl.” But when I turned around to see who said it, everyone suddenly found newspapers and lattes endlessly fascinating.

With an apologetic shrug, I smiled weakly. This sort of thing had been happening a lot more than I liked since Lilith and I bonded.

At first, I’d imagined the change in my relationship with Lilith as entirely positive. I mean, I found I could tap into Lilith ’s magic instantly. My spells kicked ass now. Plus her physical strength was available upon request, which came in very handy that time the delivery guy dumped all the stock for my store at the wrong loading dock. I’d found too that I was much less afraid of really losing control. Used to be, if I accidentally triggered Lilith’s wrath, I could wake up to find myself with bodies to bury, literally. Now I was conscious during the outbursts, and she was easier to rein in . . . at least so far. But the outbursts, while no longer the nuclear option, were a whole hell of a lot more frequent. It was crazy -making, Izzy was right. It unnerved me how unpredictable I was becoming. Mátyás had gotten hurt. Only thanks to sheer willpower was he not more damaged.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Mátyás looked up at my words. Wounded pride burned in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” William said. “We all know how Lilith is, right, guys?”

Izzy didn’t look so sure. Mátyás’s jaw twitched. Sebastian, however, came to stand beside me. “Of course we do,” he said. He took me under his arm and swept me over to the plastic water cooler that hung over the edge of the bar. The dispenser made a loud
glug-glug
as he pressed down on the spigot. I gratefully accepted the cool glass he handed me. “I’m sorry. I can’t control it.” I looked over my shoulder to where Izzy was fussing over Mátyás. Noticing my inquiring glance, Mátyás glared at me. “He hates me.”

Sebastian stroked my hair. “He always has, my darling. Anyway, Mátyás is just pissed right now because he had his ass handed to him by a five-foot-tall, perky Goth.”

I laughed a little at that image, but my smile quickly faded. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“Everyone knows that,” Sebastian said kindly. “Even Mátyás.”

“He’s going to have bruises.”

“Not for very long. He’s a dhampyr; he heals fast.”

I nodded, but I didn’t feel comforted.

We’d perched on the tall stools near the bar. I could hear the others starting to talk, though I couldn’t make out any individual words over “Santa, Baby,” which played on the speakers.

“What happened to the dresses?” Sebastian asked.

“The order is completely screwed up. They got pink taffeta.”

Sebastian made a face to show his opinion of that. I couldn’t have agreed more. We laughed, even though my stomach lurched at the thought of the disaster my wedding was turning into.

The door opened to a couple of UW students with books under their arms. As they picked seats and shrugged out of their parkas, Izzy came back around the counter to take their orders.

“Mátyás is prickly,” Sebastian said, watching as Izzy made small talk about finals and cold weather with the students. “But you’ll make things up with Izzy.”

“I hope so,” I said, but just then Izzy saw me out of the corner of her eye and gave me a soft “we’re okay” smile.

“See,” Sebastian said. Letting his hands slide from my hair to my shoulders, he gave me a soft massage. It felt really great, and I could feel Lilith relaxing as well.

William came up beside us and plunked himself down on one of the stools. “Hey,” he said to me. “Thanks for ruining my game. I was totally getting the smack-down.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” I said with a smile.

Sebastian craned his neck around. “Where’s Mátyás? Isn’t he going to join us?”

“He’s sulking,” William supplied. “Sore loser, as always.”

“He never did tell us where his mother is,” Sebastian said grumpily.

“That’s because I don’t know,” Mátyás said, coming to sit beside me on the other side of the water cooler. “And I don’t sulk.”

“You totally sulk, man,” William said with a teasing snort from where he sat on the other side of Sebastian.

“I find it difficult to believe you don’t know where your mother is,” Sebastian said, giving Mátyás a glare. “It’s not like you.” To not hover over her like a mother hen, he clearly implied. I had to agree. Mátyás did have that whole attachment issue with Teréza.

“I don’t have her tagged with a GPS collar for chrissakes,” Mátyás said.

I cringed and seriously considered ducking. Sebastian had a very old-fashioned sense when it came to swearing. He wasn’t a prude. Not in the least. He said
shit
and
fuck
and some of the even nastier words from time to time as the situation demanded, but he didn’t really approve of taking the Lord’s name in vain. This was never a problem between us, because, well, I wasn’t Christian. Not only did he respect that it didn’t have the same impact coming from a nonbeliever, but I purposefully avoided mentioning a certain son of a carpenter when I was mad. If I was going to take a lord’s name in vain, it’d be my own. But Mátyás was Catholic like his father.

Sebastian’s teeth were clenched, and I could see the tips of fangs. That boy knew all the buttons to push with his father. I decided to intercede. “I think you at least owe us some kind of explanation. I mean, the last time any of us knew about it, Teréza was still out . . . well, out cold, as it were.”

“Dead,” William offered.

“Trapped,” Mátyás clarified.