I wasn't exactly relieved to know Lia had escaped the fireball. She was still dangerous, especially when paired with Synd. I hadn't wanted to be responsible for her death, but I didn't exactly want her capable of wreaking more havoc, either.

"Can she do the Star Trek thing, too?" I asked.

Ruadan nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. All the Ancients have that ability. It's possible she beamed herself to safety and left the dragon to its fate."

Nice to know Lia was consistently evil. The dragon hacked pitifully, and I felt sorry for it.

"Well," said Lorcan next to me, "we should probably get the dragon spit."

I screamed and turned, whapping him on the shoulder. My heart pounded furiously. "s.h.i.t! Could you please stop doing that?"

"Sorry," said Lorcan, his lips curling into an almost smile. "Me 'n' Dad can pry open its jaws. You collect the saliva."

I stared at him. "With what? Because I'm not sticking my hand in there and just . . . scooping."

"Anything left in the kitchen?" asked Ruadan.

Dutifully, I climbed through the debris and picked my way through the demolished kitchen. Nearly every dish and gla.s.s was broken. After digging through a few piles, I managed to find a plastic measuring cup.

Lorcan looked at my find with a raised eyebrow. "That's for dry ingredients."

"Thank you, Martha Stewart." I seriously wanted to whap him again. "I hope a half cup of dragon spittle is enough."

Ruadan got on one side of the dragon's ma.s.sive head and Lorcan on the other. It didn't protest at all as the vampires grabbed its jaw and pried it open.

It belched and the smell of sulfur and death rolled over me. I gagged. Blech.

"Any day now," said Ruadan.

I kneeled down and leaned toward the mouth full of big, sharp teeth. Slowly, I reached inside. It flicked its slimy tongue over my arm.

"Ew! Ew!" I jerked away. "Gross!"

"Did you get any?" asked Lorcan.

"No," I said. I shouldn't be so squeamish. After all, Patrick and his wife were sick because of me. I owed them this much. Once again, I stuck my hand inside and pushed the cup under the big, floppy tongue. Oh. Yuck. I scooped and dragged it back out.

Dragon spit was yellow and noxious. Carefully, I stepped back until I was completely clear of the beast.

"Is there anything we can do for it?" I asked.

"You can release it from its mortal form," said a voice behind us.

I turned around and saw Ash standing nearby watching us.

"Ash," said Ruadan, irritated. "Where have you been?"

"Trying to find Synd's hidey-hole." Her gaze traveled over the ma.s.sive beast, who was wheezing hard now. Black blood dribbled out of its nostrils and mouth.

Ash looked at my soaked arm and my precious cup filled with one-third of the restorative for dragon poison.

"Here," I said. "You can use it for the cure."

"Why would I use demon spit?" she asked. She looked at the three of us and laughed. "That thing's not a dragon. It's a demon.

Lia must've bound him into the form of a dragon. Jeez. He's really milking the death scene." She glanced at me. "Demons are immortal. They can't be killed, only sent back to h.e.l.l."

I stared at the dragon that was not a dragon. Demons were real, too? I shouldn't be surprised. I should just a.s.sume that every creature in every myth was real. Then I wouldn't get a shock every time one showed up.

Now that the demon had been found out, it stopped with the labored breathing and rolled onto its belly. It stretched out, then put its head down, closing its eyes. Oh my G.o.d. It was taking a nap. I guess it didn't have feelings.

Ruadan took a cell phone from his front pocket and dialed a number. "d.a.m.n it. Battery must be dead. Lorcan?"

Lorcan offered his cell phone, but after Ruadan dialed, he shook his head. "It's not working, either." Ash flipped open her phone and frowned. "Mine's dead, too."

What fresh h.e.l.l was this?

I was so tired, I didn't care. And I was still holding demon spit. "Do we need this?"

Ash shook her head. "Demon anything is bad juju." She opened her pink jacket and unzipped a pocket. To my amazement, she pulled out a Ziploc bag filled with brown stuff. I saw spots of red in it, and at the top, the glitter of gold. "I found leftover vampire by the melted swing set in the backyard."

Ruadan took the bag and unzipped it, sticking his hand inside. I realized I was still holding the demon saliva, so I dropped the cup onto the ground. "How did you get that big-a.s.s bag into your coat?"

"Let's just say I know a fashion wizard with some mad skills."

Ruadan lifted a delicate gold necklace from the bag. The pendant was a magnolia blossom. "I gave this to Lia for our first binding.

My mother made it from fairy gold. It can't be destroyed."

For a moment I couldn't speak. I examined the ashes and saw the strips of red leather. "She's . . . dead?"

"Yes." His voice was hard. He didn't look at me as he clenched the necklace in his fist.

Apologizing was so inadequate. How was I supposed to phrase it? Sorry I killed your murdering, conscienceless ex-wife? Well, it was worth a shot.

"Ruadan, I'm sorry."

"I know." Ruadan looked at me, and I was surprised to see empathy lurking in his silver gaze. "I know you did what you did to help us all. You couldn't have known what might happen if Lia died."

"Oo-kay." Did this mean he was forgiving me for killing his ex-wife?

Lorcan took my hand and squeezed it between his own. "Darlin', Ralph is part of Lia's Family."

I processed what he was trying to say. His earlier words floated through my scrambled thoughts: You may have killed more than just Lia. You may have destroyed every vampire in her Family.

Oh, my G.o.d.

I had murdered Ralph.

Chapter 23

"You have to take me to him," I yelled. "Right now!"

Lorcan looked taken aback. "Maybe you should calm-"

I grabbed him by the shirt, yanked him close, and glared at him. "Take me to Ralph now."

"Libby, if something's happened to Ralph, perhaps it would be best-"

Men with their moron logic and patronizing tones. Or maybe it was the vampire in Lorcan making him stupid. I spun around and started off in the direction of the compound. Lorcan grabbed my shoulder.

"If Ralph . . . if he died, those boys are alone! They need me. Now either do your sparkly bulls.h.i.t or let me go."

"Okay, Libby," he said.

"Don't worry about us," said Ash sarcastically. "We'll just stay here with the stank-a.s.sed demon."

Like I cared. I was anxious to get to the compound.

"We'll have to get Phoebe," said Ruadan. "Other than Patsy, she's the only one with demon powers."

The dragon snored. It was either the laziest demon around or so tired of Lia's ownership that h.e.l.l was a welcome retreat.

"C'mon," I said impatiently. My stomach roiled, and I pressed a shaking hand against my belly. I wouldn't feel okay until I knew the truth about Ralph's fate.

Lorcan embraced me. One moment we were standing in the front yard of Ralph's destroyed home, and the next--twinkle, twinkle, don't throw up-we arrived outside a white building.

I still felt like my molecules were being rea.s.sembled, but I didn't want to take an extra second to steady myself. I yanked open the door and barreled through it.

Lorcan followed me into the lobby. I had no idea where the h.e.l.l we were. I turned around, slammed into the vampire, and wobbled backward. "Where are we?"

"The Consortium's headquarters. C'mon." He took the lead and I hurried behind him. We entered a wide hallway and headed toward a set of dark wood doors at the end.

My heart hammered. Had Ralph turned into ash? Were the boys even now weeping for their father? I couldn't bear the thought.

Lorcan opened the doors and we entered a huge, brightly decorated room. The primary colors, comfy sitting areas, bookshelves, and myriad of games pegged it for a rec room. I saw my parents in the corner, sitting on opposite sides of a table with a chess board on its middle.

They both got up, their gazes showing relief.

I didn't recognize most of the people milling around. I saw Patsy, Gabriel, Damian, and Velthur. Yeah, all but the three faces I wanted to see most."Ibby!"

I whirled around and there were Michael and Stephen barreling toward me. And behind them, their father. Their handsome, kind, s.e.xy, very much undead father. Relief rushed through me, and the tears I'd managed to keep at bay flowed freely.

I squatted down and the boys ran into my open arms. I hugged them and kissed their little blond heads. Ralph kneeled down and cupped my face. His fingers caught my tears, and his gaze was filled with much more than relief. I saw love there. I cried harder.

He kissed me, not in a gentle missed-you kind of way, but in a reaffirming, pa.s.sionate never-leave-again way that stole my breath.

My heart.

"You squishing me, Daddy," groused Stephen.

We broke apart, grinning stupidly at each other.

"Oh, G.o.d, Libby," he said. "I thought you were . . ." His gaze fell onto the boys, who looked up at us with wide eyes.

"Yeah," I said. "Me, too." I wiped my eyes with a sleeve. "I look terrible."

My coat was ripped, my a.s.s was sore from being thrown across the snow-filled yard, and my eyes felt puffy from crying.

"You look beautiful to me," said Ralph.

Oh, he was sooooo getting some. I licked my lips, and his eyes dropped to my mouth. I wanted to be alone with him, to show him just how much he meant to me.

"Honey?"

My dad's voice put the kibosh on any more thoughts about hot monkey love. Ralph and I stood up and faced my parents. The boys clung to their father's legs, and their father put his arm around me. I scooted closer and slung my arm around his waist. I could see that the others in the room had congregated near a large sitting area. Lorcan had found his wife and was talking to the gathering. I figured he was telling them about Lia-and what I'd done.

"The phones are out here?" I asked.

"Yes," said Ralph. "None of the cell phones work. The land lines in Broken Heart were disa.s.sembled months ago."

Mom and Dad shared a significant look. Great. Brady was probably the reason the phones didn't work. That man had been busy.

Was he still intent on rescuing us? I bet that my parents had a way to contact him, but were waiting to see how things played out.

Either that, or Brady wasn't the one responsible for cutting off the cell phone signals.

"I'm Ralph Genessa. These are my sons, Michael and Stephen."

Ralph stuck out his hand, which my mother took. "Theodora Monroe, and this is my husband, Elmore." She looked down at the boys. "h.e.l.lo."

"Hi," said Michael.

Stephen blinked at her and stuck his fist into his mouth. Gawd, they were cute.

Dad shook hands with Ralph, too, and I could see that my father was sizing him up. Elmore Monroe was the strong, silent type, with emphasis on the silent part. Ralph must've met his approval. "Nice to meet you, son."

"You, too, sir."