Damn it, his booming laughter was infectious. Hell, the whole SUV was shaking. I found myself giggling at first. Mostly, I was laughing at him.
“She, literally,” he gasped, tears streaming down his face, “toppled right out of her chair—splat on the floor.”
And now, for the next two minutes or so, Kingsley was laughing so hard that he couldn’t speak. Worse, I found myself laughing, as well. Not quite as hard as Kingsley.
“And then, and then she looks up from the floor—” Kingsley didn’t sound like Kingsley. He sounded like a wheezing, asthmatic school kid. He tried again. “And then, she looks up from the floor just as I pull the fork out of my hand—and faints again.”
And now, I lost it again, completely and totally, gasping and kicking his feet. I got myself under control a lot faster than he did. I said, “That poor lady. Is she okay?”
“Yes,” he said, still laughing. “The floor had carpet.”
That set him off again, and I waited for him to get some control over himself. “Okay,” he said, gasping, gulping air. “I think I’m done. But no guarantees.”
I shook my head. “How’s your hand?”
“Ah, hell, it’s fine. You know that.”
“Jesus, it wasn’t silver was it?”
“Naw, and even if it was, it wouldn’t have done any real harm.”
“I’m not sure what got into me. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I know what got in you, Sam. Or what’s in you now, more accurately.” Kingsley sat back and wiped his eyes. That he filled the seat to overflowing went without saying. “It’s in me, too. Or something similar.”
“Except yours comes out each month,” I said.
“Yes,” said Kingsley. “And that seems sufficient for it for now.”
“She wants to possess me fully. That’s her goal. I know it. I can feel it.”
Kingsley nodded, suddenly somber, although his eyes still twinkled in the ambient lights.
“It’s usually the way, Sam.”
“Then how do vampires fight their own demons?” I asked.
Kingsley looked at me sideways, looked at me long and hard, his thick hair piled up on his beefy shoulders. “Most don’t, Sam. Most succumb.”
“I didn’t want to hear that.”
“But some also come to an agreement, I think.”
“What type of agreement?” I asked.
“They let the inner demon out, so to speak. But only sometimes.”
“They let it control them?”
“Yes. For some, it’s the only way to have peace.”
“She’s not controlling me,” I said. “Not ever. This one, this one is different. Powerful. She’s looking for a crack. All she needs is a crack. If she finds it...I don’t think I’ll ever come back.”
Kingsley nodded, listening, still breathing hard from his outburst. “Some demons are more powerful than others. Some have other agendas.”
“What does that mean?”
“She might have a reason to be inside you, whatever that might be.”
“Like she picked me, on purpose?”
“Maybe, Sam. I don’t know. But trust your instincts. Don’t let her out, fight her.”
“I’m trying.” I took in some air. “I mean, I have to. I have kids, a career. I have a sister, a family. I can’t let this...psychotic bitch...loose. Who knows what the hell would happen?”
“Agreed,” he said.
“I have no idea what she is capable of, who she might hurt. I have no idea if I would ever be me again.”
“I understand, Sam. Perhaps better than most. I, too, have a fear that I may never return. That I would stay chained to the walls of my own mind.”
I shook my head. “Fuck her. She’s not going to win. She’s not getting out. Ever.”
He reached over and gripped my hand tightly. I let him, and we held hands like that in his oversized SUV, an SUV that just might have been tilting slightly to one side—his side. After a long moment, he said, “I think we might need to find a new restaurant.”
“I think so, too.”
“Do you want to come over tonight?”
“We’re friends, remember?”
“Friends can still come over.”
“I suspect your intentions are more than friendly.”
“My only intention is to hold you tight.”
“I need to go,” I said, and attempted to pull free, but his big, ogre-like hands anchored mine.
“I still love you, Sam,” he said, “and I’m sorry for hurting you.”
I worked my hands free.
“I need to go,” I said, and left his SUV.
Chapter Twenty-two
We were at Hero’s.
No, it wasn’t the same without the cute bartender with the shark teeth hanging around his neck, but it was still our hangout. It was also one of the few places where my sister and I got to relax together. Where we could be ourselves. In hushed voices, of course. No kids. No men. No work. Just sisters. That one was mortal and one was immortal was irrelevant. Not here, not in this place. A safe place.
That one sister got mortal and immortal confused was just, well, plain cute.
Only this time, Mary Lou wasn’t saying much. We were sitting in the far corner along the crowded bar, where we usually sat. A post separated us from the person next to us, which was perfect.
“You’re still mad,” I said. We were both nearly halfway through our first glasses of wine and she still hadn’t said much. In fact, I was pretty certain she hadn’t said a thing...or looked at me for that matter.
Seeing her now, the way she set her jaw, the way her left knee bounced agitatedly, reminded me our fights when we were young. Mary Lou could hold a grudge with the best of them. It was always, always, my job to break the ice. I either broke it...or I got the jaw and knee business.
“How was your day?” I asked. I didn’t want the jaw or knee business. I needed my big sister. Badly.
“Fine.”
“Anything exciting happen at work?”
“No.”
“You’re telling me, in that big insurance office of yours, not even one person had a birthday today?”
“No, Sam.”
“Well, any meltdowns?” I asked. “Someone’s always having a meltdown at your—”
“No, Sam.”
“Where did you go for lunch?”
“I didn’t eat lunch.”