Chapter 40
Okay, don't panic!"
"Betsy."
"We just need to calm the hell down!"
"All right."
I had my sister by the shoulders and shook her briskly. "Just don't go all hysterical on me, Laura! Stay calm! Stay focused."
"It's hard for me to see when you do that," the Antichrist pointed out politely, and I could see what she meant. What with all the shaking, her hair was flying around like blonde cotton candy.
"Sorry! I'm a little freaked out!" I let go of her and tottered around the room, fighting the urge to rend my clothes or tear my hair out. "Okay, let's see. Let's just calm down and see."
Except there wasn't much to see. It was the same old waiting room. But there was no way to leave the room. So it was the nasty carpet and the flickering fluorescents and the beat-up receptionist's desk. And doors, of course. Lots of closed doors. Lots of locked doors.
"I think," Laura said, studying the room, "our celebration was a little premature."
"No shit."
"And I think we're supposed to pick another door."
"My! We're really clever today, aren't we?"
"Better clever than bitchy."
"Hey!" She looked at me and waited, eyebrows arched, but I shrugged. "Yeah, I got nothin'. I was being bitchy. It's my superpower."
Laura seemed to lighten up a little. "So we can run around this stinking little room and yell and have hysterics. Or, we can get back to work."
"I s'pose doing both isn't an option."
"It is, but it seemed so dumb and bitchy, it was hardly worth mentioning."
"You're enjoying yourself."
She shrugged and smiled. "Not ... entirely."
"Ugh. Fine, fine. You know what? My own stupid fault for being dumb enough to think we could go to hell and travel through time and things wouldn't suck." I threw up my hands again. "Pick a random door, which will throw us into a random corner of hell. Or earth. Or earth's past. Good thing we've got a guarantee that nothing will go wrong. Oh, wait! We don't."
Laura grasped a handle. Shook it briskly-no joy, locked firm. Then her eyes widened and she pointed. "What happened to your shoe?"
Terror the likes of which I rarely felt unless someone was on fire rose in me, and even before I looked I had a shriek ready. But it was weird, because I couldn't see my shoe at all.
All I could see was ...
How come I could only see Laura's fist and why was it coming at me in slow motion and wow my head hurts a lot but at least I'm a fast fast fast fast
A fast healer! That was it! That's what I was.
Yup. Definitely.
Right?
Chapter 41
This time, I just stayed where I was. I didn't even open my eyes. "Hey, Laura?"
"Yes?"
"There wasn't anything on my shoe, right?"
"Right."
"Thank God. Nice fake-out."
"I'm very sorry." But ... was that a muffled giggle I heard? She might think she was sorry, but deep down where she really lived, she probably wasn't. So was this good for me, or bad for me?
And where were we now?
I opened my eyes-and yelled. "Aggh! I'm blind! That rotten bitch-cat mother of yours arranged for me to be-"
"Betsy."
"-cruelly blinded because she's jealous-"
"Oh, Betsy, jeepers!"
"-of my awesomeness in general and also my shoe collection, which will-"
"For heaven's sake."
"-never be hers, never, I tell you! I'll set every pair on fire myself if I have to. Oh God, my poor babies. I'll burn 'em and then give 'em all an acid bath-"
"Will you shut up and just look?"
"-which is the least of what I'm gonna do to that rotten-oh, hey, I'm not blind anymore."
I sat up, blinking. Laura had crossed the floor and yanked at what looked like shutters for the inside. There was a clatter, dusty light fell onto the floor, and I realized we were on the first floor of a barn. An old barn-it was cow and cat free. It smelled like ancient shit, dust, dirt, and corn.
"It's late afternoon outside," Laura was explaining as I hopped to my feet and crossed the room to look out the grime-streaked window. "I dragged you in here ... I wasn't sure if you'd wake up or not."
"Dragged-" I glanced over my shoulder and groaned. Yep, dirt from my shoulders to my calves. Where was I going to find a pair of leggings in my size, in a color that didn't make me think of dried puke, and long enough to fit my freakishly long frame? "Aw, shit. I foresee problems ahead, kiddo. For starters, depending on where we are, it's possible the inventor of leggings hasn't been born. Or has, but hasn't been to high school."
Laura shrugged. "Sorry. It was all I could think to do."
"And it was perfect." I looked out the window again. Another small town. And no streetlights. No telephone poles or lines that I could see. And no electric lights-not that I could see, anyway. "I know, you're used to me squawking for longer, but time is precious, my little time-traveling tadpole. Dragging my big butt in here was sensible and quick. We need not speak about the damage to my leggings at this time."
"Oh. Well." Laura ducked her head, and I could see, even in the dim light of the barn, she was blushing. She could be so adorable when she wasn't lying about shoes and giving her only beloved sister her second bloody nose of the day. "Thanks. I-you know, I feel stupid, but it never occurred to me. I know you won't burn in sunlight, but ..."
"But what else will we have to worry about, right?"
"No offense," she added hastily.
"Yeah, I know I'm a vampire, Laura. You don't have to worry about pointing stuff like that out. Well, I used to be out cold from sunrise to sunset. Then ..." I had started brushing dust and dirt off my clothes, and swallowed two sneezes in half a second.
"Then you read the book."
"Yeah. Big mistake-bit Jessica, raped my husband-"
"What?"
"And started waking up a couple of hours before sunset. Not exactly a trade I was looking for, but..." I shrugged.
"Okay, well." Laura sneezed, and like everything she did, it was cute and delicate. Like how bunnies sneeze. "I'd like to circle back to the raping Sinclair thing."
"Perv."
She laughed. "I deny nothing!"
"It's always the virgins. Those are the ones you gotta watch." I usually made a concerted effort not to think about the Antichrist's love life, but one of these days, my not-even-drinking-age sister was going to lose her virginity, and it'd be great if nothing too world-ending was happening that same week.
And why was I thinking about Laura's sexual inevitability when we were time traveling and I had dirt down my shirt?
Because, I answered myself, it's something to worry about that doesn't include time travel, or hell.
Yeah. My brain was like everyone else's-when I got stressed, I couldn't help thinking about stuff that was so not important to current events.
"But maybe," Laura was saying, "I can worry about my poor brother-in-law's rape-"
"It wasn't a rape exactly. I mean, he was all for it. But he didn't notice I was evil."
Laura nodded politely, then resumed where she'd left off. "... at a time when we're in our own century."
"Yeah, you noticed the lack of traffic, smog, electricity, and iPods, too, huh?"
"Yes. Also the lack of an ocean."
"So not Salem again."
"Most likely not."
"D'you think this is like episodes of Knight Rider?"
"I don't know wh-"
"Never mind. I hate being reminded of how young and dumb you are."
"Don't you mean young and gorgeous?" Laura grinned at me.
I started to grin back, always ready for some friendly-like joshin', when I stopped. There was something I didn't like about that smile. And since when did Laura actually own her gorgeousness?
Time traveling-or maybe just hanging out in hell-was giving her all sorts of confidence. I was remembering other incidents-hell, this time around she'd knocked me on my ass before I'd barely realized we were headed out of hell. A far cry from her earlier, tentative efforts ... the devil had been so scornful of those she'd threatened to leave.
So, yeah. I was uneasy and getting more so. Trouble was, was I threatened by that because she was young and hot and smart? Or was I threatened because-ha, ha!-she was supposed to take over the world one of these days?
"I guess my point was, d'you think we're supposed to do little jobs whenever we jump through time's door, so to speak? Or is it enough to just be here, before we try to go home?"
Laura shrugged. "I don't know."
And she didn't seem particularly worried, either way.
What's to worry? my inner bitch whispered. She's the one who can move from world to world, and time to time, You're the one who's riding her like a taxi. So what happens when Laura realizes you're son much dead weight?
Hell if I knew.
Maybe literally.
