The Vampire Next Door (26 page)

“Oh. I thought with your Boston accent you were sayin’ trigger-somethin’.”

Nathan chuckled and kissed her on the nose. “You’re too adorable for words.”

Sly huffed. “So now that we have one of my problems solved, let’s see if we can get back to the other one.”

“Oh, yeah.” Gwyneth slapped her forehead. “We need to add one fifth of the Vampire Vintage to the Vampire Vodka. Let me see that.” She extended her hand, and Sly passed her the open bottle of wine.

She held the Mason jar at eye level and poured the Vampire Vintage slowly until the amount looked right. Then she swirled it gently until the red and clear liquids mixed and resembled a rosé wine.

She handed the mixture back to him. “Down the hatch.”

He lifted the jar and said, “Cheers.” After taking a careful sip he waited. When nothing happened, he took another.

“Well?” she asked.

“Nothing yet.”

“Take a big swig of the stuff, not a little sip. How much wine did you have to drink in New York to cure you?”

“It seemed to work almost instantly. But because it’s watered down, you might be right. I’ll need more.” He took a large gulp. As soon as it hit his stomach, he knew something was wrong. It began to roil. “Whoa, that went down hard.” A wave of nausea swamped him.

Nathan squinted. “Are you all right?”

“I-I’m not sure. I feel kind of…”
Oh, no.
He recognized the unmistakable feeling of his guts about to empty. He glanced around wildly, looking for a receptacle of any kind. All he saw were residents’ boxes holding treasures too important to throw away. He’d never make it to the laundry room sink in time.

Gwyneth must have recognized the symptoms because she grabbed the container and held it over her head. “No barfin’ in the moonshine, whatever you do!”

At last, he simply bent over and yakked up on the floor.

Nathan snorted. “Who knew Vampire Vintage plus Vampire Vodka would equal Vampire Vomit?”

“Dang,” Gwyneth said. “Y’all are super pale an’ look like you been drinkin’ Clorox.”

*   *   *   *

Morgaine had managed to calm herself enough to astral project. She lay next to the door and sent a quick plea to the Goddess.

“Dear Lady, help me succeed in my efforts to warn away my boyfriend and cousin. Let no one I love walk into this evil trap.”

She tamped down her nerves one more time before going into a trance. Once she had reached the appropriate level mentally, she let her spirit rise from her physical body and walk through the wall to the next room. Malvant lay in wait, peering out the peephole in the front door, just as she had thought he would be.

While he’s occupied there, I’ll slip out the back.

She had decided that rather than try to escape without a decent plan, she’d prepare Sly for a daylight assault. She’d need his strength to break down the door. Without it, she pictured herself just bouncing off it a few times until she gave up, bruised and battered—and no better off.

Morgaine gathered her energy in an about-face and traveled to the back entrance. Once she’d pushed her way through, she ascended up and out. At last, she hovered over the dark alley. She had to remind herself that she was safe. In a weird way, Malvant’s locked room provided safety from him and an a peaceful place for her body, while allowing her spirit to travel free.

Unencumbered by her body, Morgaine allowed her consciousness to float above the buildings. Looking down, she hoped to intercept any well-meaning but foolish attempt at her rescue.

The city slept while streetlamps twinkled below her. Enough of the sidewalks were illuminated to show only a lone dog walker. It had to still be cold since she could see his breath. Other than that, an occasional car moved down the streets, but she saw no Sly and no Gwyneth—
thank you, Goddess.

While she was in astral form, perhaps she could track them down. She didn’t know if Sly could see her. Probably not. But she might be able to catch Gwyneth in a trance… a light sleep state in which spirits can visit and even communicate with the living. Most people would dismiss it as a dream.

Wait. Communication with spirits… Maybe Chad can help?

Morgaine floated two blocks over and three down, then located their building. As she descended, she couldn’t help taking a peek in the windows.

Merry was snuggled in bed. The next window she passed was Gwyneth’s bedroom. It was empty. Sly must have gone to her for help. They were probably hatching a plan to rescue her. Hopefully she hadn’t missed them somehow. What a disaster that would be! She
had
to stop them.

She continued her descent past the window on the second floor. The new neighbor snored softly in her bed. Tiny curls of smoke emanated from her nostrils with each exhale. And who was that in bed with her? Oh well, she couldn’t afford to get sidetracked now.

She passed Nathan’s bedroom window and was surprised to find his bed empty too. Okay, a three-way in Sly’s apartment was just out of all realms of possibility. But maybe they were over there putting their heads, and not their bodies, together.

At last she let her consciousness enter the building. She was approaching Sly’s apartment when a familiar voice said,
“Morgaine? Is that you?”

“Chad?”

“Yup.”

“Where are Gwyneth and Sly?”

“They’re in the basement. With Nathan. Boy, will Gwyneth be glad to see you!”

“Why is that?”

“Why? Well, duh. You were kidnapped by a vampire.”

Morgaine mentally rolled her eyes.
“Do they think I’m dead?”

“Not really. Gwyneth’s just been having a hell of a time convincing Sly to wait until dawn before they go after you. She dragged Nathan out of bed, hoping he could hold Sly back physically if necessary. I doubt a raven is any match for vampiric strength though.”

“You’re right. Both of them together couldn’t hold him. Can you help me communicate with Gwyneth? I’ve got to warn them.”

“Sure, my witchy friend. But be glad you weren’t here ten minutes ago.

“Why?”

“Because, as Nathan put it, Vampire Vintage plus Vampire Vodka makes Vampire Vomit.” He laughed.

“Oh, no.”

“Don’t worry. It’s all cleaned up now. Let’s go.”

The two descended right through the floorboards.

“Pretty cool traveling this way, huh?”

Morgaine chuckled
. “Personally, I can’t wait to get back in my body and take the stairs like a normal person.”

Sly whipped his head in their direction. “Did you just hear that?”

“Hear what?” Nathan said.

Gwyneth looked up. “I think I heard Chad. Is that you, roomie? Did you get worried about ol’ Gwyneth bein’ up so early?”

“It’s me all right. Me and Morgaine.”

Gwyneth gasped. “Morgaine’s here? How did she…”

“Tell her I’m not really here, Chad. I’m astral projecting. I think she thinks I escaped.”

“She’s not here in body, just in spirit. Much like myself.”

Gwyneth turned white and fainted. Before she hit the ground, Nathan caught her.

“What did you say that for? Now she thinks I’m dead.”

“Hey, I didn’t realize she’d take it so literally.”

Sly was wandering toward them, squinting as if he could almost see something. “Morgaine, honey?”

“I’m here, Sly. Well, not really. I’m astral projecting. My body is still alive and well in Malvant’s place. Can you see me?”

He shook his head. “I can’t see you, but I can hear you.”

“Can you hear Chad, or just me?”

“Just you.”

“Are you sure? Chad, say something.”

“Something.”

“Did you hear him? What did he say?”

Sly shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear him. But I can hear you! Are you all right, darling?”

“Yes, but I came to warn you. Do
not
go after Malvant. It’s a trap.”

“That’s what Gwyneth said. Are you all right though? Will you be okay until we get there?”

“Yes. He has me locked in another room.”
She glanced past him to Gwyneth, who was slowly moving into Nathan’s arms.
“Please tell Gwyneth I’m alive. I think she got the wrong impression from Chad’s poorly worded greeting.”

“Sure, blame me. That’s what I get for trying to be nice.”

Sly held up one hand. “I’ll tell her.” He wandered back to Gwyneth and Nathan. “Are you okay, Gwyneth?”

“A’ course I’m not okay. My cousin’s a ghost! That means she’s—”

“Alive,” Sly interrupted. “She’s astral projecting.”

“Is that what Chad told y’all?”

“No, I can’t hear Chad at all. I can only hear Morgaine.”

“Really?” Gwyneth scrambled to her feet. “Y’all can hear her?”

When he nodded, she hugged him. “Oh, my! I’m so grateful to hear that. Not just that she’s alive, but that y’all are her beloved.”

He cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”

Gwyneth chuckled. “A beloved is a vampire’s one true love. Listen to me, tellin’ y’all about vampire lore.”

“Hey, you probably know more than I do. Everything I’ve learned has been by trial and error. So how do you know she’s my beloved? Because I can hear her?”

“Yup. It’s called telepathy. Y’all are lucky. Some vamps never find their beloved—ever, and that’s a long, long time to go without true love. I think that’s what makes most of them so cranky.”

Sly scratched his head. “Okay… Morgaine, are you hearing this?”

Morgaine couldn’t respond. A lump had lodged in her throat. This was heady stuff. Sure, she knew she loved him, but she hadn’t been sure he loved her. Oh, she’d hoped, but… he’d never told her so. Now she knew.

“Morgaine?” Panic filled his eyes.

“I’m here.”
She sniffed.

“Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer. At last Chad said,
“For cryin’ out loud. She’s a woman. Does she need a reason?”

“Shut up, Chad. I-I guess I just hoped to hear it from you, not my cousin.”

“Oh, honey. If I could hold you and destroy Malvant, I’d tell you right now. In fact, I wish I could.”

She giggled.
“I can wait until dawn. I hope you can.”

Nathan had been staring at Sly. At last he shook his head in wonder. “Weird stuff goes on in this building. My girlfriend lives with and talks to a ghost. Her cousin has a vampire called a ‘beloved,’ and they know this because he can hear her over some kind of invisible long-distance telephone line.”

Gwyneth leaned into him. “It’s telepathy, but that’s about the size of it.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “And people think
I’m
the weird one. So, since I can’t hear anyone but the two people standing next to me, is anyone talking about a plan to get her out of there or what?”

“Well, so far, Cousin…” Gwyneth faced the direction Sly had been facing when talking to Morgaine. “…all I’ve done is refuse to tell Sly where Malvant’s lair is until daylight.”

“Good. Smart girl, Gwyneth.”

“She can’t hear you,” Chad said.

“I know, but Sly can. Sly, sweetheart, tell Gwyneth I said that was smart.”

He sighed. “Not until I have you in my arms again.”

Morgaine sensed time passing. When she heard the click of a door opening and the creak of what she imagined might be a coffin, she figured daylight must be near. Malvant would be unconscious soon, and she could attempt her escape. If she could get out before Sly got in, she’d turn on the lights and check for traps Malvant might have set for anyone who tried to rescue her. Besides, she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.

Malvant still didn’t know about their secret weapon—the Vampire Vintage—so he wouldn’t be expecting Sly. He also didn’t realize the witches knew where his lair was. Maybe the place wouldn’t be booby-trapped at all. But she had to know for sure.

When everything was quiet, she astral projected to the street and confirmed for herself that it was sunrise.
Thank the Goddess.
It was now or never, but first, she had to be sure Malvant was out cold.

She returned to her body. “Hey, jerk face!”

No sound answered her. It looked as if the circumstances were right, but just to be sure, she yelled, “Your mother was a werewolf!”

Still no response.
Good.
It was time for a lock-opening spell. Since she didn’t have her moonwort powder with her, she’d have to hope the words alone would do the trick.

Feeling around the door, she formulated the words in her mind. When she located the doorknob, she kneeled in front of it.

“Lord and Lady, hear my plea… Out of this room, I shall be.”

She concentrated as hard as she could, visualizing the door open and herself stepping over the threshold. When she tried turning the doorknob, it clicked. Surprised, but delighted her simple spell had worked, she rose and pushed open the door.

“Yeeeuck.” Something disgusting assaulted her nose. The odor smelled like rotting meat. Morgaine held her breath until she absolutely had to let it out and take another. Meanwhile, she felt her way around the door frame and along the wall. She hoped she’d run into a light switch eventually.
Come on, Morgaine. You can do this. You’re Sly’s beloved. Don’t you want to hear him say it?

Then she remembered that she knew exactly where the light switch was. When she and Gwyneth had been in the space, there was a switch at the bottom of the stairs. Morgaine turned in that direction and felt along the opposite wall until she had it.
Oh, thank Goddess!