Michele Bardsley - Broken Heart, Oklahoma 5 Over My Dead Body

To Elaine Smythe,

who lives on forever in the hearts of those who love

her and in the pages of this book.

To Terri Smythe

Terris Angels love, love, love you.

From the field journal of Cpl. Braddock Linden Hayes

08 MAY 98

After almost four months of exhaustive preparation and instruction, we reported at five a.m. to begin the last phase of our training. Four more weeks of busting our balls, and we would finally be deployed to execute our purpose.

The General marched us to the field outside the barracks. Some poor bastard was blindfolded and chained to a metal post. The General explained that this guy, who looked like hed wandered away from his IT department, was a vampire.

We laughed.

The General ignored our snickers. He said that vampires were real. In fact, he told us that most of the creatures of our childhood nightmares were not only real, but also considered paraterrorists. We had been training not as an elite counterterrorism assassination alliance, but as the first covert paraterrorism extermination team. (Yeah. We were ETAC PETs.)

We didnt laugh, not then, but we didnt believe him, either. I was starting to wonder if the last phase was all about the psych-out. What makes more sense? That they were fucking with our minds or that the schmuck who struggled against his chains was a vampire?

The sun started to rise.

And the guy started to smoke. And scream. And beg for his life. We stood at attention and watched as the sun fried his ass. He exploded into ash.

Nobody said anything for a long time. Then the General led us to Building 41. From day one, it had been made clear that B41 was off-limits. Anyone who attempted to enter the facility without clearance would be shot.

We were taken into a laboratory. Five of us and five upright metal tables. Shit. No way would anyone back out. Wed signed away our livesso we fit ourselves into the slots and let the lab coats strap us in.

Nanobytes. Thats what they called the tiny robotic critters they injected into us. The injections burned. It was like they were shooting acid into our veins. The one in the temple hurt the most. I didnt scream, but holy God, I wanted to.

The General said this was only the first round. Different nanobytes for different jobs, but theres a required seventy-two hours between injections. We walked back to the barracks, and I felt like Id woken up from a three-day drunk in Tijuana.

Its too late to change my mind. And its damned sure too late to regret. But I think we are in deep shit. Right up to our fucking necks.

Everyone stopped talking to one another and stared at me. I couldnt be bothered with them. My gaze was on the pixie.

He wanted immortality, said the pixie smugly. He wanted everyone to know that he was a great hunter and virile man. So I gave him all that he asked for.

Only he didnt phrase the wish quite right, did he? asked Brady, catching on immediately.

Flets ego had been engaged, and he answered Bradys question without my prompting. He wouldnt make a wish until Id saved him. An I must grant a wish to the one who captures me.

We get it, I said. Magic has rules.

And where would we be without rules? Flets glow flickered in irritation. Chaos! Only one of our kind has magic without rules, and she governs chaos.

How do you govern chaos? blustered Ivan. Pah! This little fool lies to us!

Morrigu is the Queen of Chaos, offered Lorcan, which you well know, Ivan. He looked at me. Go on, Simone.

I glared at Flet. If you keep nattering on, Ill give you to Zerina, I warned. Tell us about the giants wish.

I was! He huffed indignantly. Dunn was good at hiding, good at hunting, and good at staying alive all on his own. But the villagers wanted to be rid of him, so they poisoned their own sheep and he ate one. I saved him from death, and was free. But I still had to grant his wish.

I want to be immortal, Flet, says he, and I want everyone to know that I am a great hunterof game and of women. Flets attempt to boom in a giants voice wasnt all that effective. Still, the pride vibrating in his tone probably matched the giants well enough.

Oh, my God, said Eva.

Yeah. I said, nodding. The Cerne Abbas giant was once real.

Was Dunn the last giant? asked Eva. Her gaze was on Patrick.

He shrugged. Possibly. We didnt return to Ireland until the late 1800s. Dad said he once met Fionn mac Cumhaill, who was a giant even among giants. Mostly, they kept to themselves and stayed out of the way of humans.

No more giants? asked Flet in a bemused voice. The world is better off, then. This, from the little snot whod tried to convince me his life had been grand as a giants pet.

And no more pixies, I said. Did you get that part, too?

Flet snorted. Pixies were part of the world before it was the world.

You said that already.

Bears repeating, I say. Pixies are alive and well, and dont you forget it.

I dropped the subject. It dawned on me that Flet had repaid the giants slights, real or imagined, in a clever and cruel way. No way did I want to be on the bad side of a pixie. Or a permanent fixture on an Oklahoma hillside.

Since Flet could neither tell us how hed gotten from England to Oklahoma nor where hed been for the last four centuries, Patsy ended the meeting.

Weve replaced the broken post, and it works fine. The Invisi-shield should be operational in time for the festival. Patsys jaw cracked as she yawned.

I felt the pull of dawn, too. The closer it got to sunrise, the more tired I felt. That was the way of vampires. We had no choice about when we went to sleep or when we woke up. Although the older vampires got, the more strength and power they accrued. Some, like Patrick and Lorcan, could even tolerate weak sunlight.

I think theres something going on and we need to stay alert, Patsy continued, especially since we have guests coming in to town for the big shindig. Unfortunately for Simone, shes stuck with Flet. Sorry, hon. I can requisition a fly swatter, if you like.

Hey! protested Flet.

I laughed. No. Im sure hell behave.

Well, lets go home, people. The sun will rise soon, and I have a bucket of hot wings with my name on it.

I saw Jessicas look of longing and caught her gaze. Yeah, I said. Itd be nice to eat again, wouldnt it?

As everyone else departed, Brady and I walked with Jessica and Patrick (and Flet) out of the garage.

Sometimes Ill just lick a Godiva truffle, she said, her voice filled with yearning. It makes me sick to my stomach, but God, its worth it.

Youll get used to our ways, mo chroi, said Patrick. Its been only a year since your Turning. I dont even remember what food tastes like.

I dont imagine the food you were used to eating was exactly good to begin with, said Brady.

Patrick laughed. Tis true. All the same, I have no cravings. At least you can still ask your donors to ingest gastric delights.

Chocolate-tinged blood isnt as good, declared Jessica. She grinned. That sounded really whiny, but I dont care. Its been almost a year, and I still want to stuff my face with champagne truffles. Do you know that Godiva makes a pumpkin pie truffle for Thanks-giving? She groaned, and pressed her hand against her stomach.

If only eating the food didnt make us throw up, I said.

Plus, where would it go? asked Brady.

The insides dont really work anymore. The heart pumps when we feed, but most of the other organs arent necessary, said Patrick. If a vampire managed to keep the food down, it would just... rot.

Gross. We know how it works, buddy. Jessica smacked Patrick on the shoulder. If only that Invisi-shield had magic powers, too. Any vampire who stepped within our borders could suddenly eat with no consequence.