Wolf at the Door

chapter Thirty-four



Edward looked at his phone, which had started buzzing again. Rachael. The vampire queen. Calling him again. Probably wondering what new webs to spin around him.

It was the next afternoon, and he was in a new hotel. He’d spent most of yesterday checking out and moving his stuff to a place Rachael had never seen. He hadn’t been smart enough to figure out what she was up to, but at least he was smart enough to erase his tracks.

He’d been on a geek high after meeting Dark Dude, a high that lasted all the way back to his hotel room. Then it was displaced by reality. He hated when that happened.

When he finally had a chance to sit down and think about the depths of her trickery and betrayal, he wanted to die. He wanted to slap the shit out of the vampire queen. He wanted to set her hobbit hole on fire. But mostly . . . yeah. Die. Or if not that, at least never to have met her. Never known the joys of bluff sex.

Your own fault. You knew. Knew she was too good to be true. Maybe the newsletters were a trap, ever think of that? And she caught you.

Sulking on his bed, he flung his forearm over his face and groaned as the full horrific realization nailed him yet again between the eyes: that awesome girl, that super-sexy Rachael Velvela, was the soulless degenerate depraved vampire queen.

Ohhhh, it all made sense. Her façade as a friendly gorgeous chick who did not gulp the blood of innocents was perfect. Their fake run-in at the bookstore . . . She obviously had spies everywhere. It was all part of her plan to get to Boo. And he’d fallen for it, hadn’t he?

He’d lived with a vampire and a vampire slayer for years; he couldn’t believe he hadn’t spotted her for what she was. Oh, the betrayal, the deceit! A flawless performance, especially when she would . . . would . . .

“Bluff sex.” He sighed. “Oh, f*ck me.”

Well, she wouldn’t have him to kick around much longer. He’d seen to that, if nothing else.

Except . . .

His eyes widened as a new-yet-horrifying thought rocketed into his mind: Boo was coming. Except he hadn’t really put together what that meant. What it meant for Rachael. He hadn’t seen the logical conclusion of his phone call.

The vampire slayer was coming. He’d called her himself. And when Boo showed, Rachael was dead.

How had he not thought of this before? He wasn’t just betrayed, wasn’t just a sucker for a gorgeous face . . . it was a lot worse. Half his damned brain seemed to have shut down!

And here was more proof, though he sure didn’t need it: if he was running with all faculties at systems go, why was the thought of Boo carving the queen a new mouth so upsetting?

Yeah, why? Huh? How many has she killed? Look what she’s been up to in the short time you’ve been here. Look at what she was planning! Evil zombie babies! Hurricane Boo was on the way; the smart choice was to hammer the windows shut and hunker down until it passed.

Yep. That’s what he would do. He would hunker until it passed.

Absolutely.

Yes.

His phone buzzed again. He grabbed it, then answered with a curt, “Your place. Twenty minutes.” He didn’t wait for a reply.

He lunged for his car keys and left the room so quickly he didn’t even lock it.