“A war,” Marshall echoes back, and his voice reverberates right down to mymarrow.
“Who is the enemy,” I whisper as if it were a realquestion.
“You alreadyknow.”
Chloe comes up with a man in tow. “Look who I found lurking in these parts?” She guffaws so obnoxiously loud, for a moment I wonder if Darla Johnson has possessed her. There’s just something about Brielle’s mother that lends itself easily to a cackling girl in a bar—especially with a man intow.
I glance up, fully expecting to find the Logan lookalike, but am met with her brother, Brody Bishop,instead.
“Brody?” Personally, I welcome the sight—I welcome the sight of the both of them. I’d rather have a thousand Bishops flung in my face than continue with that demonic conversation regarding a war of all ludicrous things. For the life of me I can’t believe I’m going down that thorny path again. Although this war will be different. I’m not letting the heavenlies, or my mother’s destination station, decide when and where to thrust me into mortal combat. I’m not about to lose my mind to make it to some nebulous finish line only to have Logan Oliver’s head hacked off. No thank you. My war. Myrules.
I openly growl at Chloe since she was the one who hacked off Logan’s head to begin with. Chloe is my personal hell. A tiny laugh huffs through me because I have plans for my own little personal demon that make me tingle all the way down my angelic littlespine.
“MackBishop,” Chloecorrects.
Brody’s twin gives a jovial laugh before gesturing to Marshall. “Who are these sluts you’ve furnished us with this fine evening,Dudley?”
Sluts? I sneer at Chloe. Leave it to her to drag over the gutter trash—her long, long relation nodoubt.
He lifts a brow toward Marshall. “The wench who resembles Marlena tells me she’s from the New World—from a distant time. What malarkey is this? Women wearing pantaloons, no less?” He tips his head back and guffaws at the idea, and we get a toxic whiff of his eighty-proof breath. “God forbid this news travels to the throne. King Charles will have the entire lot of them dragged back by their ears.” His hand circles around my waist and he gives my bottom a healthypinch.
“Ouch!” I shout while slapping himreflexively.
He licks his greasy smile in approval to my less than enthused response. “I’ll take the spirited one. I always appreciate a good rumble under thecovers.”
“The only thingcoveringyou will be the lid of your casket if you try that again.” I take a step forward and get in his face. “Try it again and see how fast you end up on the wrong side of Britishsoil.”
“I’m the spirited one.” Chloe shoves me into Marshall’s arms. “And neither of us is sleeping with you, Mack Daddy. Where did Marlena go, anyway?” She squints into thecrowd.
“My sister?” He cocks his head. “Who the hell knows.” He sucks from the wooden mug in his hand. “The little whore is rolling around on her back, Ireckon.”
Wow, he saidwhorelike it was a term of endearment. It’s nice to know we see eye to eye on some things because I happen to agree with his nutshell analysis of Marlena. And what the heck does Chloe want with the little whore,anyway?
“You hear that, Chloe?” I take a moment to rib her. “Your long-lost granny is off getting VD somewhere while lying on her back. The two of you have so much in common, and yet it’s sort of a miracle you have relatives at all.” Actually, if memory serves correct, Marlena tosses herself off a cliff soon after she discovers her lover was sent to the tower—wait, that’s only partially correct. Marlena contracted theBlack Death. The Black Death! THE PLAGUE! “Holy crap, I just remembered this entire time period is crawling with all things bubonic.” I snatch Chloe by the arm. “We need to get the hell out of here before we’re bubbling with boils. The afterlife sounds nice in theory, but I’m in no hurry to taste and see formyself.”
Marshall keeps pace beside me as we navigate our way through the chortling can-can girls with their skirts to here and their tits to there, hanging out for the world to see. Dear Lord, this is a den of heathens if I ever saw one. The main saloon is filled with bodies so dense it’s like swimming through a human wall just trying to hit theexit.
“There she is,” Chloe growls and leads us to the left a bit until we’re face-to-face with Marlena and a skanky looking girl with a tiny turned-up nose, red knotted hair that holds the promise of a rat’s nest, pasty skin, and large round eyes that seem hungry to steal our souls. So odd. So unnatural, and honestly, sounnecessary.
“Come on, Chloe,” I hiss. “I’m sure Marshall can summon that demon into his living room anytime you want. We have kids to think about. I’m pretty sure there’s no routine vaccination for the diseases they’re hosting. Hell, there probably aren’t even proper names for them. This isn’t head lice we’re dealing with. This is life or blackdeath!”
“Marlena.” Chloe sizes her up as if claiming her prey before she pounces. “I believe we have unfinishedbusiness.”
“Business?” I chirp. “Chloe, if you need to stay behind, I absolutely have no problem with that whatsoever.” Forget the deal I worked out with her. Leaving her in these tampon, yeast infection cream deprived times might just be a special brand of torture. A dull smile comes to my lips, and the edgy redhead next to Marlena snaps her jaw at me as if she were rabid. Dear God, she probably is. Great. I can add rabies to the short list of things to be waryof.
Chloe scoffs as if a vacay in jolly old England wasn’t even on the short list of hellscapes she’s willing to burn time in. “I’m in the Transfer with Wesley.” She keeps her eyes trained on Marlena. “He is my master, and I do as he says,” she grits the words through her teeth as if a vision of Wes and his X-rated commands just whistled through herbrain.
“What?” I try to shake Chloe from her bizarre need to confess her sins. “Nobody cares who you bow down to on the mattress, Chloe. And what’s this mastershit?”
Chloe’s trance-like state remains unshakable as she continues to glare at her older, not all that wiser twin. “Traitors don’t sit well with me. I suspect I’ll be seeing yousoon.”
Marlena scoffs openly at Chloe’s threat as if it were no more than a toddler throwing a tantrum. Little does she know that Chloe is far more lethal than any toddling babe. She’s amassed quite the impressive body count—an attribute that had me leaning toward teaming up with hermyself.
“I suspect you’ll be seeing me when I’m good and ready.” Marlena gives the flick of her wrist, exposing an exquisite black fan made of fine lace. If I didn’t think it was laden with bionic super germs, I might have asked her to lend it to me before jettisoning off to a far more comfortable time and place. It’s stifling in here, causing the thick, ripe body odor to roll to a boil. Can you say air conditioning and fire code? Two things I never thought I’dmiss.
“Great.” I slap my hands over Chloe’s back in an effort to move her toward the exit. “Now that we’ve got all the fun details worked out, I’m sure you two will enjoy a rather hostile tête-à-tête sooner than later. But as for you and me, it’s time to makeBrexit.”
“Not so fast.” Chloe’s feet seal to the floor like concrete, taking a step toward the snarling redhead. “Who’s this little impish bitch?” She scowls at the—for lack of a better term, impish bitch that seems to be gloating next to Chloe’s whore of agrandmother.
