Page 4 of Happily Undead in Dark River

“Did you convince Beatrice and Bert to close the diner? This is amazing.” Honestly, there was a better chance of getting Walt to close Disneyland for the day. If Walt Disney was a vampire. Actually… “Was Walt Disney a vampire?”

Both Walker and Bert stared at me. “What?”

I waved a hand. “Nothing. You look very handsome, Bert.”

The old vampire blushed, pouring our wine and then hightailing it back to the kitchen, probably to lose the bowtie.

I smiled at the man across from me, the flickering candles making him look even more handsome, if that were possible. “This is very romantic, Walker Walton.”

Now it was his turn to blush, and he squeezed the back of his neck. “I wish it was more. You deserve more.”

Walker had been my staunchest supporter since my turning, determined to find my killer. There was still so much I didn’t know about him. When was he born? Was he married? When was he turned? But there never seemed like the right time to ask someone how they died. Given his reaction to my uh, murder, I had an inkling it wasn’t a happy story.

Beatrice appeared from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly baked bread and several small dishes of dip.

“Oh, look at you two. Just the most adorable picture.”

I loved Beatrice. She reminded me of someone's Great Aunt. Brash, but loving. She’d stood by me since my turning, all through the thing with Alice, even when the rest of the town turned their backs on me. Sure, most of them had come around now, but it had hurt back then and while I’d forgiven them all, I hadn’t forgotten that I’d been a victim and they’d treated me like the villain.

I ate with my fingers, and Walker watched me like I was on the menu.

“So, when’s your birthday?” I asked, probably impolitely around a mouthful of feta dip and crusty bread. Seriously, Bert and Beatrice were a wonder.

“July 21st. I was born in 1821 before you ask.”

Woah. I mean, in comparison to Nico, he was a baby. But I never thought I’d be dating a nearly two hundred year-old man. Who’s your daddy? Amiright?

The rest of the meal was one of the most pleasant of my life. We talked as if I were still in college like we were normal humans. We avoided most hard topics, like my family and his turning. We also didn’t talk about the Vampire Nation’s upcoming visit. Instead, I now knew his favorite color was blue, he liked garlic and cheese pizza which I thought was funny as hell, and that he always wanted to be a sheriff, but it wasn’t his vocation until after he was turned.

He’d grown up in New York, a poor Irish immigrant, though there was no trace of an Irish accent now. He’d married a famine girl. They’d never had any kids though, and he now knew it was because he’d survived the pox as a child.

I felt a brief pang of sadness that I would never have kids with Walker, or Tex, or little Brody’s. Then I mentally slapped myself. I wasn’t even old enough to drink. I was too young to think about kids. But there was a niggling bit in the back of my brain that thought one day, I might. And maybe one day, Brody and Tex would too. I mean, Brody was Alpha. He was going to have to reproduce, right? That’s what always happens in those romance novels. Then he’d have to leave me. The sadness went from a pang to an all-out ache.

Walker frown, reaching over the table to twine his fingers in mine. “Hey, what put that look on your face?”

I was saved from answering by the bell over the door tinkling. Not unusual, but inevitably the banshee scream to my life.

X stumbled over the threshold. “Raine. Just the girl I was looking for. Wow, this place is dead, Love. Deader than usual, I mean.”

Then he fell forward, hitting his head on the corner of the table closest to him and landing on his face.

Chapter Three

Iwas on my feet and beside him as his head hit the floor. It was then that I saw his back was oozing blood. The whole back of his black shirt was soaked, and this close, the scent was so overwhelming that I was surprised I hadn’t smelled his blood as soon as he opened the door. I was surprised the whole town couldn’t.

My fangs dropped down fast enough to puncture my lip, and I licked at the blood. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t check for a pulse. Did I lick the wound on his back? Why wasn’t it healing?

A gust of wind heralded the arrival of Judge, though I had no idea how he even knew that X was here. Maybe he could scent X’s blood from my house? I had so many fucking questions and no answers.

“Why isn’t he healing?” I asked the most important one first.

Judge’s face was shut down into a terrifying mask. “Traitor’s Blade.”

The words sent cold terror trickling down my spine, even though I had no idea what they had meant. “How do we stop him bleeding like that?” I was starting to freak out, flashes of the month before, of almost exsanguinating Walker, were starting to blur over the reality of now.

X made this awful gurgling sound, and I knelt beside him. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get you fixed up. Stop being such a wuss, ‘tis but a scratch,” I teased, but there was an edge of panic to my voice that I couldn’t quite hide.

“Just because… I’m English… Doesn’t mean I watch Monty… Python,” X gasped out on labored breaths, which made me laugh but feel infinitely more worried.

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