Page 40 of The Accidental Detectives

To say we were gonna be toast was an understatement.

Did that shut me and my big mouth up? Nah. “If I ever get my hands on you, I’ll kill you, you sick bitch!”

All I could think about were my kids, Charlie and Carl. My husband Greg, who’d worried about situations just like this ever since we’d started OOPS.

As my skin began to smoke, I thought about Owen’s kids, about Wanda and Marty, Darnell, Arch and Tater Tot, and it enraged me that this lunatic was going to take me away from them.

No one knew where I was. I don’t think I ever even finished the text to Wanda. We were fucked—but that didn’t mean I was going to stop fighting.

My ankle was twisted, hanging off my leg awkwardly, blood left my hands slippery as my skin bubbled, blisters bursting all over every inch of my skin.

And still I fought because of my kids, my husband, my friends. If they ever heard what happened today, I wanted them to know I’d fought to stay with them. Crawling, digging my torso into the ground, I inched toward her while she cackled at my efforts.

“Did you hear me?” I howled, while the light, hot and white, ate at my flesh. “I’m going to find you and kill you, you miserable, weak bitch!”

Out of nowhere, there was a sharp gasp—and the sound of thunderous footsteps.

“Lorelai Bettencourt, stop!” I heard a familiar voice boom. “Stop now!”

My eyes had hazed over, my skin peeling, the zip-tie had torn my wrists almost to the bone, my ankle hung off my leg like a Christmas ornament from a tree branch…when suddenly, the scorching heat of the light Sonja had created dimmed.

I fell over onto my back, wincing at the pain. When I looked up, I saw one of my favorite people on the planet. Roberta—Robbie Tisdale—standing in the middle of the suddenly mellow light of the room, feet planted wide, eyes full of fire.

“Make one more move and I’ll turn you into the pile of shit you are, Lorelai!” Robbie hollered.

Um, who the hell was Lorelai Bettencourt? Didn’t anyone have one name anymore?

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Robbie run forward, standing in front of Brenda and me to block Sonja. Then sheroared, her arms spread wide. “Stop now, or I’m going to obliterate you!”

“Who the hell are you?” Sonja snarled, throwing up her hands, clearly preparing to cast another spell, but Robbie was quicker.

From where I lay, I was able to see Robbie curl her hands into fists before spreading her fingers wide and flinging her hands at Sonja.

Handcuffs appeared around Sonja’s slender wrists, thick bands of shimmering steel preventing her from moving and rooting her to the spot.

Robbie, her long hair flying around her shoulders, rushed Sonja and grabbed hold of her. “I’m your worst nightmare! Nowback the hell off!”

Wanda and Marty rushed in from somewhere I couldn’t see, their floral perfumes a welcome, familiar scent, two faces I was happy AF to see.

“Nina!” Marty yelped, stooping beside me, pulling me close, and rocking me, and I let her. She smelled like home. “Just hold on, vampire. Let the healing begin.”

“Get Brenda,” I whispered hoarsely. “She needs to feed…now. Right now…”

Marty hugged me closer, letting her cheek rest against the top of my scorched hair. “Man, Vampire, this is some pickle you found yourself in, huh?”

I didn’t have the energy to push her away. I felt weak as a newborn. “A whole damn vat of ’em.”

She chuckled, the sound rumbling against my ear as she palmed soothing circles along my spine. “You scared me. Don’t do that again.”

“How quickly you forget this shit was your idea.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d have to go toe to toe with a witch?”

“You’re smushing my face,” I complained, beginning to feel better every second that passed.

Wanda reached out and touched my hand with a gentle pat before she saw to Brenda. Hauling her up, cradling her against her body as she dug into her Mary Poppins purse (yep. She has one, too) for the pint of blood she always carried for me.

Tearing off the corner of the packet, Wanda held it to Brenda’s lips. “Drink, Brenda. Drink it all.”

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