Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(38)

Uncle Roy looked stricken. I desperately wished I’d gone with Mom and Dad. This felt like a private moment. But there was no way for me to excuse myself now without looking like a massive dick.

“Not necessarily, baby. There’s a chance—”

She scoffed. “Roy, don’t.”

“There is.”

“Four percent isn’t a chance. It’s a sentence.” Her eyes welled up again, and then she shook her head like a dog drying itself. Like she could shake off her tears. “I need you to promise me something. Promise me you won’t let anyone tell them they aren’t beautiful. You, too, Ollie.”

I nodded mutely.

Her voice choked. “I was told I wasn’t beautiful when I was little. But they’re the most beautiful children in the world. They’re smart, and funny, and creative. I won’t be here to remind them, so you have to. Both of you. Daily. Okay?”

We nodded. Uncle Roy kept squeezing her hand, like if he let go of it something terrible might happen. He looked more than a bit emotional himself.

Before long, my parents returned with a worn-out Crista, and Dylan out cold in Dad’s arms. They settled both kids on the couch to nap, and gathered single chairs from around the room.

“You don’t all need to be here,” Aunt Linda said finally. “Really. I’m fine, and I just want to sleep.”

“You can sleep,” Uncle Roy said. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“No, honestly. If you go now you can do at least part of dinner. Maybe not a turkey, but the rest? And you could bring some sweet potato pie for me tomorrow?”

She had the same kind of look I’m pretty sure I get when I’m aiming for a long shot, like leftover pizza for breakfast or an advance in my pocket money. Earnestly hopeful, but weirdly resigned at the same time.

“Not happening.”

“Roy, the kids.”

“They don’t know the difference.”

“They’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“We can do a makeup when you’re home.”

“I’ll be too tired to cook, you know I will—”

“I’ll cook.”

“You can’t cook. You don’t even know what paprika is! Catherine needs to do it. Cathy, sweetie, will you—”

“No, Catherine isn’t doing it, because the kids and I are staying right the hell here. It’s Thanksgiving. They should be with their family.”

“They’ve been here all day, Roy. They’ve been with me. When they’re here I feel like I have to smile, and be energetic, and make sure they don’t worry, and I’ve been doing it all day. I am tired. I just want to nap, and watch a bad movie, and complain and moan without ruining their day. It’s a special day for them. Please.”

Uncle Roy hesitated. “I’m not leaving.”

“Cathy?”

Mom looked at Aunt Linda, then me, then Dad, then the kids. “I … Linda, I don’t think I can. If I wasn’t here, I’d just be worried and distracted. I feel better here.”

Three … two … one. On cue, the adults all turned to me.

I didn’t really want to leave the hospital, either, but I had the least right to be selfish out of everyone here. “I … Look, if it helps, I’m more than happy to take the kids to McDonald’s. Then I can bring them back here, or we can go home and play some games or something.”

Aunt Linda broke into her first full-faced smile of the day. “Ollie, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I’ll give you some money, and you let them eat whatever they want, okay? Whatever. I don’t care if they want a Big Mac with hot fudge sauce, they can have it. No rules today.”



Goddamn, kids get excited about McDonald’s. Got to give that clown one thing, he knows how to target a vulnerable audience. Any other middle-aged man wearing a clown costume and luring kids in with toys and music and sugar would be arrested, but not good old Ronald.

As we pulled into the parking lot, Crista and Dylan were literally bouncing out of their seats. Well, Crista was anyway, because she knew how to unlatch her seat belt.

I noticed my phone flashing as I switched off the ignition. At first I figured it was Mom or Aunt Linda but— but! It was Will! Finally, finally, finally. How are the Brussels sprouts?

I checked the time stamp. The message came through fifteen minutes ago. It was a reasonable time lapse. I took a quick snap of the McDonald’s sign and sent it to him, along with the text, Wouldn’t know :(

Before I’d even gotten to the back door to let Dylan out, my phone started buzzing.

“Where are you?” Will asked as soon as I answered.

“Uh, McDonald’s. Nice family restaurant. Have you never heard of it?”

“Why are you at McDonald’s? Did your house burn down or something?”

“Ooh, close. Actually, we had a bit of an incident with Aunt Linda. Everyone’s at the hospital.”

“Shit. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, for now. Just we’ve been there since the crack of dawn, and the kids were hungry, so … we ditched for food.”

There was a brief pause, then: “Come here.”

“What do you mean? Where are you?” The first, wild thought that came into my head was that Will was also at McDonald’s somehow.