He is not dead.
He is not dead.
He is not dead, because if he was? I'd kill him.
But I had to face facts. Sinclair wasn't sulking. For one thing, it wasn't his style. He liked to engage, not withdraw. For another, as silly as he thought the wedding stuff was? He'd never stick me with all of the prep less than two weeks before the big day.
Well, he might stick me with it, but he wouldn't out-and-out disappear on me. Even when I thought I hated him, he'd been impossible to get rid of Now, when we loved each other, he'd made himself scarce? Not likely.
Tina was half right: someone had snatched him. But who? And how come? And where the heck was he?
I glanced over and saw Babyjon had tired of playing with his soft blocks and toppled over on his side, one thumb corking his mouth shut. He watched me with sleepy blue eyes as I paced, as I grumbled and thought and chewed my nails and prowled back and forth.
Finally I sat down at the kitchen table, folded my hands, looked at my folded hands, and thought: this is not a coincidence.
I thought: Sinclair and Marc and Antonia and Garrett and Cathie and Tina and Jessica and Nick and a double funeral and Laura and my mom? All those people either missing or deliberately absenting themselves from my life? And now, of all times? The week my dad and the Ant died? Two weeks before I married the King of the Vampires? Granted, I remember wishing everyone would leave me alone for a few days, but this was ridiculous.
I thought: Who killed my father and my stepmother? Because this was all just a little too neat, you know? Too neat by a damn shot.
Didn't they know they were fucking with the queen of the vampires? (Whoever "they" were?) Didn't they know what I-we-could do to them?
Sure they did. They just didn't care. They didn't think I was a threat; no vampire had ever thought I was a threat. They only believed me as I was killing them. And even then, the rumor spread that Sinclair had really done it. Even the European faction had taken a damn year to pay their respects.
And who was I kidding, calling myself a vampire queen? If I didn't believe the Book of the Dead said Sinclair and I were married, how could I believe it about anything else? Can't have it both ways, Bets, as Jessica might have said.
So who had seen my weakness, and acted?
And what the blue hell was I going to do about it?
This was, of course, assuming it was all about me.
I almost laughed. Of course this was all about me! Just not in a good way.
I picked up the phone, dialed my mom's number, and waited for her to answer. "Mom? Listen, I need a favor. The shit's hitting the fan over here, and I don't think it's safe for Babyjon. Can you take him for a couple of days?
"Mom?
"Hello?"
