Page 87 of Lucy Undying

Ford screams, dropping me. I fall onto my ass, scooting backward on the floor to put as much distance between us as I can. I can’t decide whether to vomit or laugh as Ford yanks the splinter free. Her eyeball comes out, too, with a wet pop.

Ford is gone. What’s left of her is feral. This is it. This is how I die.

She screams in fury and charges toward me. Something big and orange bounces off the back of her head, stopping her in her tracks. Blinking in confusion, her eye socket leaking black sludge instead of blood, Ford turns and picks up the object.

It’s a head. Full beard, unseeing eyes, red hair the exact tone of the fox that tried to kill Lucy.

“Vince?” The confusion in Ford’s voice is adorable.

Lucy steps through the shattered doorframe. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

It’s like a Viking warrior versus a porcelain doll. Ford tosses Vince aside, then holds her arms wide, each hand as big as Lucy’s head. “You,” she growls. “That’s the stench I smelled on Iris. I’m going to tear you apart. I’ll even make it fast, as thanks for stopping me before I did something regrettable to the bloodline.” Ford takes a step toward Lucy, but stops, confused by Lucy’s laugh.

It’s a peal so silver I could stab Ford with it. And then it cuts off abruptly. Lucy’s expression is oddly disappointed as she looks up at the deadliest creature in my mother’s security force. “How long have you been a vampire?” Lucy asks.

“Not a vampire. I’m a living god. I went through the Celestial Gate five years ago.” Ford’s hand drifts to her eye socket like she wants to explore the damage. She makes a fist instead, taking another menacing step toward Lucy.

“Brand-new. I thought as much. If you were anything other than an infant, you would have been paying attention to the hour. You would have felt it in your bones. It’s twilight, which means we can shape-shift again.”

“I’ll kill you in any shape,” Ford sneers. Her hands change, fingers ending in razor claws. She lunges forward but Lucy is…gone. There’s a blur of movement, a rush of air. Lucy is behind her. She jumps on Ford’s back, wrapping her legs around Ford’s waist and her hands around Ford’s neck.

“You would also know that vampires are always strongest when they’ve been sleeping in their own burial ground,” she says. Ford flails, trying to rip her off. Lucy ducks her head away from a deadly swipe. “My mausoleum’s right down the street.”

Lucy pushes a knee against Ford’s back. The giant vampire’s spine makes a popping noise, not unlike her eyeball. Ford collapses. Her legs flop in a stomach-turning way. Lucy picks her up by the now-useless limbs and flings her. The remaining window at last breaks as Ford slams into it.

Lucy’s across the room in a blur, on top of Ford once more. “And you’d know that nothing is more powerful than a vampire in her own home. You should never have accepted an invitation into mine, and you should never have touched Iris.”

Lucy punches her hand straight through Ford’s throat. She grabs the spinal column and twists with a terrible series of snaps. Then she stands, taking Ford’s head with her. The rest of Ford’s body remains on the floor. It slowly slumps to the side, a pile of withered flesh in place of that unassailable mountain of a woman. Lucy drops the head with a sound of prim disgust.

She turns and sees the look on my face. “You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.” She moves to my side. Her expression is soft but also intense, like she’s explaining something crucially important to a child or trying to soothe a frightened animal. “You told me the truth about yourself. You need the truth, too. The Lucy in the journal. Elle. The women you fell in love with—I’m both of them. Neither was a lie. But this is also the truth of me.” She holds out her gore-covered hands, watching me. Waiting for me to scream or run. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she says again, even softer.

I laugh.

Her expression shifts to alarm, worried I’ve lost it. Which, granted, I’m pretty close to. But not quite there yet. “Lucy. Babe. I know you’re not going to hurt me. You just tore off the heads of not one but two vampires with your bare hands to protect me. And I’ve been trying to kill Ford for years, so this is awesome. We’re good. I promise. Horrifying gore aside, I’m not not into this side of you.”

Lucy’s surprise is adorable, but I’m in too much pain to be horny right now. Lucy leans close, her breath cold and sweet on my neck as she puts her lips right next to my ear. I’m not in too much pain to be horny right now, apparently.

“Ask me,” she murmurs, “to pop your arm back into its socket.”

I laugh so hard there’s barely a difference when it shifts to a scream as she does it without being asked. When I reclaim myself from the mindlessness of pain, I grit my teeth in my best attempt to smile at her. “Thanks. I’ll unpack what my attraction to Terminator Lucy means later. Right now I need you to go make sure Anthony is okay.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Heartbeat sounds good. No slowing or pooling anywhere in his pulse, so no internal bleeding or severe head trauma. I think he just got knocked out.”

“Listening for injuries from a room away. That’s a cool and not at all unnerving trick. But this is good. When he wakes up, we can tell him it was Animal Control at the door. Then the fox ran in and he jumped back and hit his head on the stair railing. That way we can explain that the fox is gone and never coming back, so he won’t be scared to live here. Oh, uh. I gave Rahul and Anthony the house. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t know I should have asked your permission.”

She smiles. “I think that’s wonderful.”

“Good, because we have work to do.”

“Running away?”

I look up into her face. Lucy Westenra. Impossibly, improbably, imperfectly perfect and here. Which means my wish for vengeance—both for her sake and mine—is suddenly feasible.

“No. We’re going to find Dracula, and we’re going to make him pay for what he did to you. And burn my family’s legacy to the ground while we’re at it.”

Lucy’s smile spreads like a fever, barely noticeable and then inescapable. Her teeth are small and white and perfectly sharp, and I love fanged Lucy best of all, I think.

We’re going to do great and terrible things, together.

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