The front door shut softly behind them.
Lord Otto walked out of the bathroom in the next second. His blue eyes searched the semi-empty room. He muttered, “What the hell did I miss? I wasn’t in there that long.”
“Jesus fuck.” My laughter filled the room.
* * *
I cracked my eyes open, unsure what had awoken me. A gentle hand instantly covered my mouth in the darkness. I blinked as Lord Belshazzar’s soft hair raked over my face, his head leaning over mine and his alert eyes scanning our room with a narrowed gaze.
Crack, crack. Crack, scrape.
Both of our attention snapped to the portrait.
It was coming from the painting.
Crack, crack. Crack, scrape.
A gun suddenly aimed at the painting—from the full-sized bed next to ours. Lord Cato lifted onto one of his elbows, with his weapon raised, rumbling, “What the fuck is that?”
“I’m not sure,” Lord Xenon answered from above us. “But it sounds like something’s trying to crawl through the picture.”
I lifted my left hand from under our blanket and delicately removed Lord Belshazzar’s hand from my mouth. I pulled my other arm out from under my pillow, my gun already in hand. I aimed it at the portrait too.
A sizzle of druid energy blasted the room, blowing my and the Overlord’s hair back from our faces. The world spun as I was shoved in a toppled mess against the wall, banging against it loudly, and Lord Belshazzar was on his feet with two guns in his hands and pointing them at the portrait.
Master Niallan’s mother walked out of the painting. Her brown hair floated in the air around her, as if she were underwater, and her white robe swooshed back and forth in a non-existent breeze. The beautiful woman’s lavender eyes glowed sharply in the darkness.
She was a ghost, her form not corporeal. The wall behind her was fully visible through her lithe body.
Lord Belshazzar hissed and lowered his weapons. “That motherfucking asshole.” He stalked forward and waved one of his guns through her legs where she stood on top of the desk. His hand went right through her. “Fucking parlor tricks to ruin our rest.”
Lord Pippin whispered, “That’s some freaky shit. Is she going to do anything?”
I pushed up on my elbows and brushed my black hair out of my face. “Better question. Where did my gun go?”
Lord Cato waggled his weapon at the ground. “It went airborne when Lord Belshazzar went ape-shit.”
I sighed and crawled out of bed then grabbed my gun off the floor where it had landed. “Lord Belshazzar, get back in bed. The bitch is only annoying. She isn’t doing anything.”
Master Niallan’s mother took that moment to float down off the desk, contradicting my words. She started twirling around and around the room, dancing and throwing her head back in silent laughter. Her body even floated through our beds—and the Overlords lying there in shock.
I blinked. “All right, that’s fucked up.”
“He’sfucked up,” Lord Belshazzar retorted. Then he pointed at our bed with one of his guns, irritated and grumpy. “You’re sleeping against the wall, your majesty. Get your ass in first.”
“I guess you asking is better than being thrown into the wall.” I sighed and traipsed to our bed. “I hit my damn head, my lord.”
He scowled. “My apologies.”
I fixed our twisted cover and stiffened as the mother-bitch floated right through me in her insane, looping dance. Round and round she went. It didn’t feel like anything—nothing at all—when she drifted through me. But it was creepy as hell.
And if a vampire thought something was creepy, it was probably true. It was best to stay away from shit that sent chills up a blood-thirsty killer’s back.
Like a dead, spying mother dancing in your room.
I crawled back into bed and pulled the cover up over my shoulders. I waited until Lord Belshazzar slid in beside me, and then I asked, “My lord, do you think he’ll let us switch rooms?”
He rolled to face me and stuffed his hands underneath his pillow. His blue eyes held mine—and I tried to ignore the ghost pirouetting behind him. He explained, “Master Niallan’s having too much fun. If we moved rooms, he’d just make it worse. That’s how he is.”
