Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home (Broken Heart #4)
Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home (Broken Heart #4) Page 22
Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home (Broken Heart #4) Page 22
"What do you mean?" I gulped. I don't think any penance would be enough if I wiped out a bunch of vampires because I couldn't control my inner dragon.
Ruadan and Lorcan studied me, their faces mirrors of worry. Well, I was worried, too. I'd let Sybina have too much control. I knew I'd have to come to terms with this new side of myself or figure out a way to get rid of it.
Behind Ruadan, I saw a very naked Damian checking on the two werewolves. They sat together, licking their singed fur, their eyes glazed with pain. Ruadan and Lorcan turned toward them.
"My brothers are okay, but they need care," said Damian. "I will take them to Brigid."
I wasn't sure how he planned to transport his injured brothers. It looked like they were going to have to limp out of here. Then I realized that Ralph's car was untouched in the driveway.
"Take the Honda," I said. "I don't think Ralph would mind."
"Um, Libby?" said Lorcan gently. "About Ralph - "
"No, seriously. He'd want to help. And if he gets mad, I'll take the heat for it." I rushed to the car, relieved that it was unlocked. I didn't have the keys, but once again I put my skills to work and in seconds the engine turned over.
Damian hurried toward me. I tried really hard to keep my eyes above the waistline. The man was built like a linebacker and all the parts were spectacular. It was stupid to even be thinking about it, but naked men could be very distracting.
"Thank you, Liebling ." He leaned close and whispered, "You saved us all. Every battle has a sacrifice. I'm not at all sorry that Hu Mua Lan is dead."
"Thank you," I said. I was immensely grateful for his words. I didn't exactly feel better about frying two living (or whatever) beings. However, it seemed werewolves weren't nearly as melodramatic as vampires.
Damian nodded to me, and then drove the Honda to his brothers. He loaded them gently into the car and left.
Ruadan and Lorcan had walked behind me, ostensibly to check on the queen. I didn't want to look; I didn't want to see more condemnation. Or another naked man. I had heard the shifting sounds and knew Gabriel was probably in his human form.
"How's Patsy?" asked Ruadan.
"She's still unconscious," said Gabriel. Yeah, he was naked. "Lorcan, can you take her back to the house?"
"Of course."
I heard the terrible snap-snick sound and ventured a look over my shoulder. The white wolf stood next to Lorcan, who scooped Patsy into his arms. Lorcan and Patsy shimmered away until nothing was left but a few magical sparkles.
The wolf stared at me with its golden eyes, and I felt bad all over again. They'd lock me up and throw away the key. My parents, too. I wouldn't see anyone again - ever. To my shock, Gabriel bowed to me, lowering his head until his snout almost touched the ground. Then he turned and loped off.
"You have his thanks," said Ruadan. "Maybe even his respect."
Well, that was good news. Better than the suspicion that I had blown up a vampire who'd been around for four millennia.
I was quaking inside and out, from anxiety and the release of the energy. Mom told me that every choice exacted a price. It was the way the universe kept balance.
"Come with me. We must assess the damage." Ruadan gestured at me to follow him and we headed toward the dragon.
The smell of burning flesh was horrific. Bile rose as the fumes attacked us. The star-bright ball I'd created had just about cooked the dragon. It was still alive, but very weak. Its gaze followed us, but it didn't try to attack.
"Lia?" called Ruadan. He sounded almost tender.
I stopped, staying well out of reach of the dragon's claws. The beast had landed on its side. I couldn't see Lia. If she'd survived the blast, she might've fallen off. My heart turned over in my chest. What if I had killed her?
Well, that had been my intention, right? My stomach clenched as guilt settled in it like a lump of lead. Ruadan lifted into the air and drifted over the dragon. He landed on the other side. After a minute or so he floated up a few feet and looked at me, his expression inscrutable. "She's not here."
I wasn't exactly relieved to know Lia had escaped the fireball. She was still dangerous, especially when paired with Synd. I hadn't wanted to be responsible for her death, but I didn't exactly want her capable of wreaking more havoc, either.
"Can she do the Star Trek thing, too?" I asked.
Ruadan nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. All the Ancients have that ability. It's possible she beamed herself to safety and left the dragon to its fate."
Nice to know Lia was consistently evil. The dragon hacked pitifully, and I felt sorry for it.
"Well," said Lorcan next to me, "we should probably get the dragon spit."
I screamed and turned, whapping him on the shoulder. My heart pounded furiously. "Shit! Could you please stop doing that?"
"Sorry," said Lorcan, his lips curling into an almost smile. "Me 'n' Dad can pry open its jaws. You collect the saliva."
I stared at him. "With what? Because I'm not sticking my hand in there and just . . . scooping."
"Anything left in the kitchen?" asked Ruadan.
Dutifully, I climbed through the debris and picked my way through the demolished kitchen. Nearly every dish and glass was broken. After digging through a few piles, I managed to find a plastic measuring cup. Lorcan looked at my find with a raised eyebrow. "That's for dry ingredients."
"Thank you, Martha Stewart." I seriously wanted to whap him again. "I hope a half cup of dragon spittle is enough."
Ruadan got on one side of the dragon's massive head and Lorcan on the other. It didn't protest at all as the vampires grabbed its jaw and pried it open.
It belched and the smell of sulfur and death rolled over me. I gagged. Blech.
"Any day now," said Ruadan.
I kneeled down and leaned toward the mouth full of big, sharp teeth. Slowly, I reached inside. It flicked its slimy tongue over my arm.
"Ew! Ew!" I jerked away. "Gross!"
"Did you get any?" asked Lorcan.
"No," I said. I shouldn't be so squeamish. After all, Patrick and his wife were sick because of me. I owed them this much. Once again, I stuck my hand inside and pushed the cup under the big, floppy tongue. Oh. Yuck. I scooped and dragged it back out. Dragon spit was yellow and noxious. Carefully, I stepped back until I was completely clear of the beast.
"Is there anything we can do for it?" I asked.
"You can release it from its mortal form," said a voice behind us. I turned around and saw Ash standing nearby watching us.
"Ash," said Ruadan, irritated. "Where have you been?"
"Trying to find Synd's hidey-hole." Her gaze traveled over the massive beast, who was wheezing hard now. Black blood dribbled out of its nostrils and mouth.
Ash looked at my soaked arm and my precious cup filled with one-third of the restorative for dragon poison.
"Here," I said. "You can use it for the cure."
"Why would I use demon spit?" she asked. She looked at the three of us and laughed. "That thing's not a dragon. It's a demon. Lia must've bound him into the form of a dragon. Jeez. He's really milking the death scene." She glanced at me. "Demons are immortal. They can't be killed, only sent back to hell."
I stared at the dragon that was not a dragon. Demons were real, too? I shouldn't be surprised. I should just assume that every creature in every myth was real. Then I wouldn't get a shock every time one showed up.
Now that the demon had been found out, it stopped with the labored breathing and rolled onto its belly. It stretched out, then put its head down, closing its eyes. Oh my God. It was taking a nap. I guess it didn't have feelings.
Ruadan took a cell phone from his front pocket and dialed a number. "Damn it. Battery must be dead. Lorcan?"
Lorcan offered his cell phone, but after Ruadan dialed, he shook his head. "It's not working, either."
Ash flipped open her phone and frowned. "Mine's dead, too."
What fresh hell was this?
I was so tired, I didn't care. And I was still holding demon spit. "Do we need this?"
Ash shook her head. "Demon anything is bad juju." She opened her pink jacket and unzipped a pocket. To my amazement, she pulled out a Ziploc bag filled with brown stuff. I saw spots of red in it, and at the top, the glitter of gold. "I found leftover vampire by the melted swing set in the backyard."
Ruadan took the bag and unzipped it, sticking his hand inside. I realized I was still holding the demon saliva, so I dropped the cup onto the ground. "How did you get that big-ass bag into your coat?"
"Let's just say I know a fashion wizard with some mad skills."
Ruadan lifted a delicate gold necklace from the bag. The pendant was a magnolia blossom. "I gave this to Lia for our first binding. My mother made it from fairy gold. It can't be destroyed."
For a moment I couldn't speak. I examined the ashes and saw the strips of red leather. "She's . . . dead?"
"Yes." His voice was hard. He didn't look at me as he clenched the necklace in his fist. Apologizing was so inadequate. How was I supposed to phrase it? Sorry I killed your murdering, conscienceless ex-wife? Well, it was worth a shot.
"Ruadan, I'm sorry."
"I know." Ruadan looked at me, and I was surprised to see empathy lurking in his silver gaze. "I know you did what you did to help us all. You couldn't have known what might happen if Lia died."
"Oo-kay." Did this mean he was forgiving me for killing his ex-wife?
Lorcan took my hand and squeezed it between his own. "Darlin', Ralph is part of Lia's Family."
I processed what he was trying to say. His earlier words floated through my scrambled thoughts: You may have killed more than just Lia. You may have destroyed every vampire in her Family. Oh, my God.
I had murdered Ralph.
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