Dead and Gone

I didn’t want to die in a hospital gown, either.

“Eric, have you a knife to spare for me?” Bill asked, and without turning from the door, Eric passed Bill a shorter version of his own knife, which was halfway to being a sword, according to me. Clancy was also armed.

No one said a word about trying to shift Tray. When I glanced over at him, I thought he might have already died.

Eric’s cell phone rang, which made me jump a couple of inches. He answered it with a curt, “Yes?” He listened and then clicked it shut. I almost laughed, the idea of the supes communicating by cell phones seemed so fu

“Niall and his fae are on the way,” Eric told us, his voice as calm and steady as if he were reading us a story about the stock market. “Breandan’s blocked all the other portals to the fae land. There is only one opening now. Whether they’ll come in time, I don’t know.”

“If I live through this,” Clancy said, “I’ll ask you to release me from my vow, Eric, and I’ll seek another master. I find the idea of dying in the defense of a human woman to be disgusting, no matter what her co

“If you die,” Eric said, “you’ll die because I, your sheriff, ordered you into battle. The reason is not pertinent.”

Clancy nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

“But I will release you, if you should live.”

“Thank you, Eric.”

Geez Louise. I hoped they were happy now they’d gotten that settled.

Bill was swaying on his feet, but neither Eric nor Clancy regarded him with anything but approval. I couldn’t hear what they were hearing, but the tension in the room mounted almost unbearably as our enemies came closer.

As I watched Bill, waiting with apparent calm for death to come to him, I had a flash of him as I’d known him: the first vampire I’d ever met, the first man I’d ever gone to bed with, the first suitor I’d ever loved. Everything that followed had tainted those memories, but for one moment I saw him clearly, and I loved him again.

Then the door splintered, and I saw the gleam of an ax blade, and I heard high-pitched shouts of encouragement from the other fairies to the ax wielder.

I resolved to get up myself, because I’d rather perish on my feet than in a bed. I had at least that much courage left in me. Maybe, since I’d had Eric’s blood, I was feeling the heat of his battle rage. Nothing got Eric going like the prospect of a good fight. I struggled to my feet. I found I could walk, at least a little bit. There were some wooden crutches leaning against the wall. I couldn’t remember ever seeing wooden crutches, but none of the equipment at this hospital was standard human-hospital issue.

I took a crutch by the bottom, hefted it a little to see if I could swing it. The answer was “Probably not.” There was a good chance I’d fall over when I did, but active was better than passive. In the meantime, I had the weapons in my hand that I’d retrieved from my purse, and at least the crutch would hold me up.

All this happened quicker than I can tell you about it. Then the door was splintering, and the fairies were yanking hanging bits of wood away. Finally the gap was large enough to admit one, a tall, thin male with gossamer hair, his green eyes glowing with the joy of the fight. He struck at Eric with a sword, and Eric parried and managed to slash his opponent’s abdomen. The fairy shrieked and doubled over, and Clancy’s blow caught him on the back of the neck and severed his head.

I pressed my back against the wall and tucked the crutch under one arm. I gripped my weapons, one in each hand. Bill and I were side by side, and then he slowly and deliberately stepped in front of me. Bill threw his knife at the next fairy through the door, and the point went right into the fairy’s throat. Bill reached back and took my grandmother’s trowel.

The door was almost demolished by now, and the assaulting fairies seemed to move back. Another male stepped in through the splinters and over the body of the first fae, and I knew this must be Breandan. His reddish hair was pulled back in a braid and his sword slung a spray of blood from its blade as he raised it to swing at Eric.

Eric was the taller, but Breandan had a longer sword. Breandan was already wounded, for his shirt was drenched with blood on one side. I saw something bright, a knitting needle, protruding from Breandan’s shoulder, and I was sure the blood on his sword was Claudine’s. A rage went through me, and that held me up when I would have collapsed.

Breandan leaped sideways, despite Eric’s attempts to keep him engaged, and a very tall female warrior jumped into the spot Breandan had occupied and swung a mace—a mace, for God’s sake—at Eric. Eric ducked, and the mace continued its path and hit Clancy in the side of the head. Instantly his red hair was even redder, and he went down like a bag of sand. Breandan leaped over Clancy to face Bill, his sword slicing off Clancy’s head as he cleared the body. Breandan’s grin grew brighter. “You’re the one,” he said. “The one who killed Neave.”

“I took out her throat,” Bill said, and his voice seemed as strong as it ever had been. But he swayed on his feet.

“I see she’s killed you, too,” Breandan said, and smiled, his guard relaxing slightly. “I’ll only be the one to make you realize it.”

Behind him, forgotten on the corner bed, Tray Dawson made a superhuman effort and gripped the fairy’s shirt. With a negligent gesture, Breandan twisted slightly and brought the gleaming sword down on the defenseless Were, and when he pulled the sword back, it was freshly coated with red. But in the moment it took Breandan to do this, Bill thrust my trowel under Breandan’s raised arm. When Breandan turned back, his expression was startled. He looked down at the hilt as if he couldn’t imagine how it came to be sticking out of his side, and then blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

Bill began to fall.

Everything stood still for a moment, but only in my mind. The space in front of me was clear, and the woman abandoned her fight with Eric and leaped on top of the body of her prince. She screamed, long and loud, and since Bill was falling she aimed the thrust of her sword at me.

I squirted her with the lemon juice in my water pistol.

She screamed again, but this time in pain. The juice had fallen on her in a spray, across her chest and upper arms, and where the lemon had touched her smoke began to rise from her skin. A drop had hit her eyelid, I realized, because she used her free hand to rub at the burning eye. And while she did that, Eric swung his long knife and severed her arm, and then he stabbed her.

Then Niall filled the doorway of the room, and my eyes hurt to see him. He wasn’t wearing the black suit he wore when he met me in the human world but a sort of long tunic and loose pants tucked into boots. Everything about him was white, and he shone . . . except where he was splashed with blood.

Then there was a long silence. There was no one left to kill.

I slid to the floor, my legs as weak as Jell-O. I found myself slumped against the wall by Bill. I couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. I was too shocked to weep and too horrified to scream. Some of my cuts had reopened, and the scent of the blood and the reek of fairy lured Eric, pumped full of the excitement of battle. Before Niall could reach me, Eric was on his knees beside me, licking the blood from a slice on my cheek. I didn’t mind; he’d given me his. He was recycling.

“Off her, vampire,” said my great-grandfather in a very soft voice.

Eric raised his head, his eyes shut with pleasure, and shuddered all over. But then he collapsed beside me. He stared at Clancy’s body. All the exultation drained from his face and a red tear made its way down his cheek.