Wait, Am I A Zombie? [BOOK 3]

Her lips curled, a growl crawling from her throat. Fangs low, body stiff and defensive, the Australian Queen didn't look so old and powerful now. She looked young and scared, like she had to do the unimaginable to get where she was and in doing so lost a crucial part of herself. I had no clue about her life or experiences. I only knew that I didn't want to be anything like he: centuries old but stuck in an archaic mindset where it was kill or be killed.

Ain't nobody got time for that.

"I have no one? I have me," I told her, slapping a hand over my chest. "That's the only person I need. So back up, sit down, shut up and learn."

There was no moment I could compare this to. Not a single occurrence in my life that prepared me for the pure flood of badassery out of my mouth.

And I meant that shit.

No clue where it came from, but it was true. Most importantly, it was right.

Sending Laportea a look that was blatant "grow up, deal with your shit, and come into this century," I side-stepped her and stared LSM and RSM down. "Take off those chains before I hand you your asses."

They thought about it, but from what they saw on my face they knew I wasn't kidding. Truth was, I didn't know if I was either.

With a flick of each of their wrists, the prisoners were released. Grabbing Ishtar's kid first, I helped the girl stand up and walked her over to her mother. They collapsed together, hugging and crying. "Whose rule do you fall under?"

Ishtar glanced up at me before her eyes darted to the side, to the Australian Queen standing still like a venomous snake waiting for the chance to strike.

Let a bitch try.

"Not anymore." I shook my head and offered my hand. "If you're cool with it, you're with me."

She stared at my hand a full minute before taking it. Upside, she took it.

"Rob," I barked over my shoulder, "Get up. We're going."

Laportea chose that moment to vamp speed in front of me, blocking our exit. Fangs extended, eyes blood red, voice as menacing and predatory. "You will die—"

I shifted forward, hand clutching her shoulder, mouth near her ear. I lowered my voice and put the weight of four vampires, a witch, and whatever the hell I was into my words. "Listen carefully, Laportea. You come after me again, you threaten me or mine, and there will be no more. Nothing of you left. I will make it my life's mission to hunt you down, rip out your fangs, and torture you in the most excruciatingly painful way I can think of—and I'm very creative."

I pulled back to look in her eyes, make sure she got that the games were over. Whatever humanity I'd had left was reserved for those behind me and any threat I was meeting like the predators who trained me: mercilessly.

Her nostrils flared, mouth opening to say something, but I cut her off. "And you better take what I'm saying seriously, because if I have to become a monster to protect the people I care about, then I'll become the sickest, most violent thing this side of the Brother's Grimm fairy tales."

Her smile was cool, eyes narrowed with a hint of pride in their murderous depths. "Of that, I have no doubt."

I nodded sharply, she inclined her head, and a minute later we were out of the pit. I shooed Rob and Ishtar to my tent as Laportea and I walked side by side to the waiting circle of royals.

"Not sure how we wrap this shindig up," I began, turning in a circle to catch everyone's eye as Laportea stepped back under her tent and took her throne, "But we're done. I'm sweaty and tired so do what you need to do and then let's all go home."

It was a full, foot-tapping five minutes before the Australian queen drawled, "I recognize you as Queen of the North American and Middle Eastern Vampires."

And that's how it went, slowly but surely. Every royal accepted me in their own sweet time. Calling it a victory would be like calling a poo a fart. Wait. No, like calling a fart a poo. More like a wet, poo-ish fart.

Pooping aside, with the reluctant murmurs of global vampire royals I was recognized as my husband and sister-in-law's equal.

Still didn't get my crown though.

Chapter Eight: You Betta Recognize, Fam

The thing about going from zero to sixty and staying there for nearly a month is that you crash. Flat out, dead at the wheel, what-the-fuck-am-I-doing crash.

It didn't happen when Rob, Ishtar, Zeno, Bane and I boarded our cozy private jet and booked it on out of there. Didn't happen when Rob decided to comment on how bonkers, banana-sauce everything was before Bane zipped his memory away and persuaded him to sit down and shut up. Didn't even happen when Zeno tried to put her iron-wrapped stiletto heel down and demand I take Ishtar back because she was an unknown and unknowns were dangerous (Exhibit A: Peaches).

Of course, Ishtar had stunned us both by saying she didn't actually want to be in our pose. She was fine with a small apartment in Medina, Morocco, with her daughter and a few pets. It came to light—with the cat lady vibes she was giving off—that Ishtar wasn't about that queen life.

What ha' happened was a male vampire in a position of power assaulted her and thought he could get away with it because of who he was. Yeah, no. Since she fell under the Australian Queen's rule, Ishtar figured killing a man for a heinous crime would only get her a slap on the wrist.

It didn't.

For ten years she was subjected to a starvation imprisonment (which sounded just awesome) while her daughter was kept as collateral. Slowly, over the years, Ishtar just lost herself. Lucky Laportea was there to pick up what remained of her pieces and put them together again. In her own image, of course.

"Still can't believe you slept with that snake, Zeno?"

The former queen snapped her head to me and growled. But seriously, Zeno was badass from the jump, but Laportea seemed on another level. A for real snake, who infected people with poison and slowly wrapped around their bodies, crushing all the bones before swallowing them whole.

"I don't answer to you."

"Uh..." I laughed awkwardly. "Actually, ya do. You're not the queen anymore. I am."

It'd happened enough that I could anticipate her speed, anger, and the hand wrapped 'round my throat.

See, I learn.

Zeno on the other hand, thought she was invincible. Bit of a God complex she got from her brother. My poisonous blood turning her finger nails black said she should step down from that pedestal before I kicked her ass off.

"Let's not make this the hill we kill each other on. Kay?"

The rest of the trip had been super awesome. Not awkward at all. Bane sulking. Rob zombified. Zeno directing clear murderous intent at me. Ishtar ignoring everything in favor of her daughter.

It didn't get better once we landed. Bane bought Rob a plane ticket out of Egypt to Vermont that was nearly 42-hours of horrendous flight time. Then Ishtar 86'd us in the airport with a yelled, "I'll stay in the region and be in touch soon." Not that I even had a second to process any of that before Luther, Casper, and Samantha descended on me, a lot more surprised that I was alive and queen than I think they should have been. A morning spent detailing the play-by-play, being told where I fucked up and where I succeeded and should "always do that," traveled into twilight with delirium reminding me of the almost two days of zero sleep.

Somewhere around five I'd called it quits, begging them all to leave. I didn't even bitch about Bane crawling into bed with me and for his credit he didn't try to get frisky.

Sleep came instantly and dreamless. One minute I was rolling over and snuggling down into babysoft sheets and the next my eyes were open.

Running water hit my ears as I sat up, looking across the room to the bathroom. A shower. Bane was taking a shower.

I have no clue why my husband taking a shower was the straw that broke the camel's back, but I went from curious to livid in half a heartbeat. All my insecurities, fears, and suffocating anxiety about vampires, werewolves, and my would-be-murders came rushing at me. My skin crawled; the sheets felt like the dozens of knives Zeno had thrown at me. Not all of which I'd missed. The hotel floor didn't feel solid but like the crumbling edge of the cliff Luther pushed me off of. And that hotel chair in the corner sure looked like the same one Ariel strapped me down to.

All the careful structures that made me a person—work, family, relationships—were gone and had been for a long time. I wasn't Georgia Kent anymore, but I didn't exactly know what it meant to be Peaches either. What it meant to be a friend to vampires and witches, a wife to a millenia old Egyptian, or queen of vampires.

Skerr. My hands were off the wheel and I was spinning, trying to hold onto anything and missing everything. Thing was though, I didn't crash. I'd gone through too much to let that happen.

Movement, activity, grasping my insecurities and utter lack of knowing what the hell to do and dealing with it. That I knew how to do. That I was a hard okay at. This time it just needed to be me. By myself. In a desert.

If I'd learned anything from the movies my ninth grade drama teacher forced our class to watch while she battled some seriously bad morning sickness was being alone in the middle of nowhere was where you found all the answers.

Just so happened I was close to a perfect, sandy bit of nowhere.

At worst I got a sunburn, at best a talking mirage of hybrid Jason Momoa and Joe Manganiello explained, while naked, who I was, how I could deal with myself, and the secrets to achieving continuous orgasms for hours on end.

"Peaches?"

I startled, completely forgetting that I was standing, naked in the middle of the bedroom just staring into space. Nothing weird about that.

Clearing my throat, I clapped my hands together and looked over at Bane. "Uh, hey! Morning."

Awkwardness stretched between us as I noticed his low riding towel, hot as hell naked chest, and did diddly squat about it. Peaches before the RC would have joined her husband the moment she woke up, indulging in some choice morning shower sex. Peaches now?

I ran my hand over my naked ring finger and dropped my eyes to Bane's throat. "What, um, are you up to today?"

Who the hell was I and what insect alien crawled in my mind and took over?

Bane tilted his head and stared at me, expression unreadable. "You've been asleep for over a day. I tried to wake you up yesterday..."

His voice trailed off as Bane realized he was babbling. It wasn't like my husband was a man of few words; he wasn't. But Bane wasn't the type to talk for the sake of it just like I wasn't the type to shut my mouth and listen.

Whatever roles we'd slipped into from the jump were changing. I wasn't up for taking his bullshit and Bane wasn't at the stage to lay all his cards out. Which left us with meaningless morning conversation instead of world-rocking shower sex.

Pisser.

Grumbling under his breath and running a hand through his hair, Bane sent me an aggravated look. He opened his mouth before slamming it shut, jaw popping.

"I have to go out. Don't leave this suite," he gritted before he flashed over to the closet, tugged on the first thing he saw, and left like his ass was on fire.

That was just fine by me. Even better. Cause, ya know, I had answers to find in a dessert and Bane's direction to ignore.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I snuck a peek at the living room for the usual suspects. No one. Awesome.

I mean, sure, my plan was a bit unsafe. The thing was, staying in the hotel could also be unsafe—Ariel proved that. And if I was with the foreign entourage, I would attract even more attention from both Egyptians and foreigners. Some of whom probably wanted to kill me.

Solo. Incognito. I'd be a ghost in the wind.

Whoosh.

Snatching a wide sunhat and a pair of sunglasses off the dining room table, I moved across the suite and out the door. Non-incognito Peaches would take the elevator which had me walking past Samantha and Luther's room, and then Casper and Zeno's rooms. Nu-ah. Four flights downstairs and slipping out the gate across from the pool it was.

I worked hard to keep my thoughts light and airy as I dodged men pushing steaming carts of sweet potatoes, kids playing soccer in the street, and shop-keepers trying to drag me into their stores with promises of deals. I never learned how far the whole thought projection went, but I figured after winding through a couple streets and working up a sweat I was good to go.

My outfit, however, was attracting too much attention. Too touristy, since no one seemed to get the tank top and shorts memo in swamp-ass heat temperatures. Spying a hole-in-the-wall clothing shop, I veered right and rushed into the store. It was cramped, crowded, and had a musk. Not fantastic but not the worst thing ever.

An old woman dressed from head to toe in black smiled at me from a stool in one corner of the store. I'd seen her outfit a couple times in the mall next to our hotel. Samantha had told me that it was a niqab, and that some Muslim women wore it. I gestured to myself with a frown and then to her with a smile, giving the woman a thumbs up and my outfit a thumbs down. She smiled, one that definitely meant "I'm charging you three times the amount because you don't speak a lick of Arabic, you silly foreigner." In no time at all, I was dressed in a similar outfit, purple hair and pasty white skin covered with my pockets a bit lighter.

"Um..." I dithered, wishing I knew anything besides habibiti. "Desert? Do you know where the desert is?"

See, it was moments like these where I reminded myself to ask Bane for a freaking phone. A smart phone where I could download a translation app instead of waving my hands and trying to think of the best gesture for sand.

"You want go to desert?" a guy's voice said from the doorway, heavily accented. "I have car. I take you now."

I glanced over my shoulder at the boy trying to pull off being a man. "No, I'm good. Thanks," I said, looking back at the woman who was staring at me with an expression that said she had no clue what was going on.

The guy said something in Arabic and she peered around me to respond, sizing the kid up as she did it. They went back and forth before the woman grabbed my arm and started tugging me out of the shop.

Oops. Not a good sign.

"It's alright," I muttered, trying to break her grip, without, well, breaking her.

She pushed the kid aside and made a shooing noise before locking the store up and tugging me down the street. The kid followed, hounding her in Arabic as she smiled reassuringly at me and dismissed him.

So . . . my walkabout wasn't going exactly as planned. And there was a high-ish chance I was being dragged to some place to be sold or something. My life was back up to sixty, though maybe not the good sixty. Like the stupid where an American gets kidnapped abroad sixty where her organs are cut out or she's sold into slavery.

Bane is gonna be pissed.

"Not just him," a voice growled in my ear as I was hauled back into a hard body.

The shop lady and Egyptian boy stopped, staring with wide eyes at the blonde-haired, blue-eyed behemoth behind me.

"Hey, Casper."

"Shut it."

Fun times. It was gonna be one of those berating Peaches conversations.

"Who you?" the Egyptian boy asked, stepping forward and reaching for me.

Casper intercepted with rapid fire Arabic and a slick lowering of his shades to hit them with some vamp mind control. A few more carefully enunciated words and the pair trotted off the way we'd all come.

"I had a—"

"Save it."

Yanking his phone from his back jean's pocket with jerky movements, he took a step away and punched in some numbers. It didn't even ring once. "Found and safe. Did you tell him? Good. I'm handling it."

Oh, now I was an "it." Had to be Zeno.

Disconnecting the call, he slipped his shades further up his nose and turned his face to the sun, taking a deep breath in. Casper looked the most relaxed I'd ever seen him. Faded blue denim, leather flip flops, white muscle tank with his hair in total disarray and sex wafting from him like a damn perfume. Any other time we would have probably laughed at how not-Casper he appeared, but now I knew it was taking everything in him not to wring my neck.

"I had a plan."

His head snapped down. "Bullshit."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared him down. He mimicked the pose until we realized that we were gaining a crowd. And there was never a good kind of crowd when it came to us.

"Come on." He grabbed me, but I was so sick of being dragged that I yanked my arm away and nearly dislocated the thing.

"Why don't you try asking?"

"Like you did?"

"I am a grown-ass adult," I growled. "I don't need your permission to go anywhere."

"You do when your life depends on it," he said in a low voice, nodding across the street to a gated park. "When people are trying to keep you alive. When you know there is someone after you."

"There's always someone after me."

"So you wanted to make their life easier and just deliver yourself on a silver platter. Smart, Peaches."

"I had a plan," I muttered again as we entered a park and moved to a shaded area away from humans. Underneath a copse of droopy, blooming trees were a set of benches. Too bad they were occupied. However one word from Casper had the family packing up and moving.

"That wasn't nice."

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!" he screamed, ripping off his glasses so I could see his eyes. Blood red and terrifying. "Sit. Down."

I sat.

A few seconds later, several men came over, concern or something like it stamped on their faces. Casper shot his gaze, muttered a few words, and they were gone as quickly as they came. "Help me understand what you were thinking, because I don't get it."

Picking at the non-existent lint on my new clothes, I tried to gather the thread of my thoughts. "It... seemed like a good idea to go to the desert. So I could, ya know, figure out who I am." Away from everyone.

His posture tensed more. "Did you, even for a second, consider how your actions affect us?"

"Yes. No. I—I thought you'd be pissed and demand to come with me or something. I wanted to be alone."

"You can't be alone," he shot out, the words hurting a lot more than they should have. "You can't live how you used to, do what you did before. Let's forget for one second that you were just acknowledged by the other royals as Queen of the North African and Middle Eastern vampires. Or that you have a coronation coming up shortly. Let's even forget the mystery creature thing." He bent down, caging me in on the bench. "You are a woman in a foreign country where you do not speak the language and have no form of identification. What if that kid had kidnapped you?"

"I can spit acid—"

"What if he drugged you? You don't know if drugs still affect you, do you?" I bit my lip, resisting responding. "Or what if that woman took you to the police? An embassy? You couldn't give them your real name because you're dead. You no longer exist in the human world therefore you can no longer behave like a human. You are an unknown species. You are a queen. You are a target. Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

He searched my face before nodding resolutely. "Good. Now come on. We need to get back."

"No."

"What?"

"I might be all those things, but I'm also an individual," I said, tears welling.

Stiffening my spine, I replayed Casper's words. Everything was moving at the speed of light and changing faster than I could blink with not a second to breathe, but I was supposed to accept that in an instant and move on with no recovery period. No time to sit with myself. Think. Be. "I needed time on my own."