My Immortality hadcome inafter I’d mind dived into the dead. It changed my DNA. Both Jennifer and I had Immortal fathers. Jennifer, unknowingly, had always been a half breed—half human and half Immortal. It had taken the blow from the Higher Power and Tim’s blood to make her truly Immortal.
At least I hoped she was Immortal now. The alternative didn’t work for me.
The only person who hadn’t even taken so much as a nap was Tim. He hadn’t moved from his daughter’s side. My dear socially awkward friend brushed Jennifer’s hair, gently washed her face with warm washcloths, and constantly whispered in her ear. He’d explained to us, as he’d painstakingly redone her makeup, that he’d wanted his daughter to look as beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside when she woke up. The statement came close to breaking me. It was clear that, despite his calm-seeming demeanor, on the inside, Tim was a mess.
I was pretty sure he was still in shock that his favorite buddy was his child. The rest of us were shocked, too. The Kismet of the wondrous situation was undeniable.
Candy kept a close eye on her best and oldest friend. It was obvious she was worried—worried for Tim and for Jennifer. Over the last three days, I’d only heard her utter one f-bomb. She hadn’t used any of the secondary curse words either. It was a stark reminder that nothing was as it should be right now.
Tim had used magic to remove the blood from Jennifer’s body and a little more to dress her in a mail uniform that matched his. Just as Candy had been about to open her mouth to comment on his choice of outfit, Gram got right up in her face and gave her a look that sent one of the OG badasses of the Immortal world diving behind the couch.
Gram might be dead, but she was still in charge.
There had been multiple discussions—if you could call them that—more like heated discourse that miraculously didn’t end in someone losing an appendage. Gideon had been adamant that Shitty Ritchie, Alana Catherine and Jennifer be moved to a safehouse ASAP. Candy Vargo was unshakable in her refusal to have Jennifer moved anywhere in the state she was in. It was too dangerous to her recovery to transport. Tim and Heather were firmly in Candy’s camp. Charlie was somewhere in the middle. I was a hot shitshow of indecision. Zander and Catriona were smart enough to stay out of it. June simply kept passing cookies around, hoping the intense debates didn’t end in bloodshed.
In the end, it was Alana Catherine going toe-to-toe with her father that made him back down. Our daughter was straightforward in her argument, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Her tone was what I would call brook-no-bullshit, and her gaze was direct. She and Shitty Ritchie would stay with Jennifer. They were a Trinity and breaking them upwould only make it easier for the Higher Power to divide and conquer. Period.
I wasn’t going to argue with that logic. She might look twenty and in real time be under the age of one, but there was something about our child that was serenely terrifying and wise. Of course, Shitty Ritchie almost blew it when he jumped into the conversation and asked Heather if his sperm was more appealing now that he was the Higher Power.
Heather’s hell-to-the-NO was almost as scary as Alana Catherine’s laying down of the law to Gideon. Both the Grim Reaper and Shitty Ritchie backed off. Shitty Ritchie backed off in fear. Gideon backed off in awed respect.
The truth of the matter was that if Jennifer didn’t make it, then there was no reason to hide Alana Catherine and Shitty Ritchie. The Trinity would be broken without Jennifer. The Higher Power would no longer have reason to destroy the other two. It could go on terrorizing the Immortal world.
The thought made me ill. I pushed it away. Giving power to the worst-case scenario wasn’t helpful. Jennifer would wake up. I’d lined up six bottles of red and three of white on the coffee table, along with a bottle opener and some fancy crystal wine glasses. My girl was gonna want some booze when she came back to us, and I wasn’t going to let her down.
“I’m making a few calls,” Gideon announced after kissing the top of Alana Catherine’s head. “If we’re staying, we need more protection. It knows where we are, and if It learns that Jennifer is alive, we’re fucked.”
“Who?” Charlie inquired warily. “Who are you going to bring in?”
Gideon leveled Charlie with a flat stare. His voice was equally as flat. “People who owe me favors.”
“Well, fuck,” Candy Vargo muttered. “The idea of who might owe the Grim Reaper favors makes my ass itch.” To make herpoint, she turned around and scratched her butt with both hands.
Shitty Ritchie giggled and copied.
Of course, he did.
“Itch away,” Gideon said with a shrug. “If we’re staying here for the time being, we need an army to fight off the zombies.”
“Unless the Higher Power is made aware that Jennifer is alive, there won’t be more zombies,” Heather pointed out. “Although, I do agree we need more protection.”
Charlie pressed his temples and sighed. “As do I, but maybe I should call in favors—slightly less deadly favors.”
“Deadly is exactly what we’re looking for,” Gideon shot back, his eyes narrowing. “Slightly less deadly means it’s more likely that we die. The life of my daughter is on the line. The lives of the people who can replace the monster dictator are on the line. I’d think that we’d want the deadliest warriors alive.” His gazed scanned the room and landed back on Charlie. “Your wife is here. You want to risk her?”
The air in the room was electric. I had no clue who Gideon was about to call in, but I trusted him. I just hoped he trusted the army he was about to assemble. We didn’t need to add to the hell we were already in.
“Call in your favors,” Charlie said tersely.
“Yes,” Tim said, glancing up from Jennifer. “I am with Gideon on this matter.”
Candy Vargo groaned. “I tell you what, you’re givin’ my middle finger an erection, but I’m leaning towards a yes. But… you realize jackass, you’re gonna owe whatever fucker you bring in here.”
“Do I look like I care?” Gideon asked in an icy tone.
Candy stared at him for a long beat. “Nope. You don’t look like you care. Which is tellin’ me that the porch light might be on, but ain’t nobody home.”
The direction of the conversation was making me a little itchy. I was going to ask some questions, and if anyone gave me a cryptic response, I was going to fry them. “Explain,” I said, looking over at Gideon. “Nothing vague. Real deal.”
