Undead and Uneasy (Undead #6)
Page 21"Majesty?"
"Tina? Hey, finally! Great to hear from you!" From anybody without fur, frankly. "What's going on?"
"Nothing good, Majesty, I assure you." She made a sound that from anyone but Tina would have come off sounding like a snort. "Are you well?"
"Oh, sure. A bunch of werewolves stopped by to pick a fight, but-"
"You mean they broke in?" Tina interrupted. Since she never interrupted, I assumed she had to be fairly shocked. Then I remembered her strict instructions, most (or all? I couldn't remember all of them, to be honest) of which I'd broken since we last spoke.
Lucky for me she was half a continent, plus an ocean, away. She could only scold; she couldn't strangle.
"Well, no. They didn't break, exactly. They, um, knocked."
"And you let them in?"
"Like I said.Knocked. Then, the fight. Which I won, so don't worry." I decided not to mention Jeannie "Quick Draw" Wyndham. Tina hated it when I got shot. "Turns out they thought we were being sneaky, because Antonia hasn't checked in with them."
"Um."
"But I convinced them that we hadn't done away with her or anything, using my Kissinger-like powers of diplomacy."
"Um-hum."
"Now we're buddies!" I tried to put as much enthusiasm as I could into that lie. I mean line. "Isn't that great? Even as we speak, they're scouring the town, looking for the hair of Antonia's chinny-chin-chin. Wait, that was the pigs, right? That line made no sense, then. Let me think of-"
"Majesty! I must beg you to-"
"Majesty, I do not wish to alarm you-"
"Then don't."
"But I fear the king may be dead."
"See, that? I find that alarming." I whacked Babyjon a little too hard, because he groaned-then belched. I plunked him into the port-a-crib so I could pace.
"I'm sorry, Majesty, but it is the only conclusion that fits the data."
"What the hell makes you think that?"
"He would have answered me by now, Majesty. In seventy-some years, he has never not answered me. We have a code we use for emergencies, and the other one, no matter what is happening in his or her life, the other one must answer. And he has not."
"He blew off your super secret vampire code?"
"I realize that infantile jokes are your way of dealing with serious issues, but with all due respect, Majesty, now is not the time."
"Noted," I said, chastened.
"He is not sulking, as you think. He is not hiding. He is not shirking his duties as your groom. And more-"
"What? There's more? What?"
"He would never abandon the queen," she said quietly. "No matter how silly he thought the wedding rituals. Someone has him. Or someone has killed him."
I heard a thud and realized that Tina, from eighty zillion miles away, had punched a wall. "I. Will do. Nothing!" Another thud. She was pounding the wall like Rocky Balboa worked a punching bag. "I cannot get back to you. There are riots in France, and all flights are canceled until further notice."
"Riots?"
"Surely you saw on CNN-never mind."
"Oh, the riots!Right, right. The riots. Those pesky French riots."
She ignored my lame-ass attempt to pretend I was up on current events. "I cannot even charter a private plane. To go by boat would take too long. I am trapped here, Majesty. And you are alone."
"Tina, it's-" Okay, I had been about to say, a who was I kidding? Tina, one of the smartest people I'd ever met, thought Sinclair was dead. Ergo, he...wasn't.
I would take refuge in my stubbornness. She was wrong, wrong, wrong and also needed a deep conditioning treatment. I wouldn't let the panic take hold. I wouldn't. It couldn't have me. The panic would have to find someone else to bug; I wasn't going to play ball. Sinclair wasn't dead. Or even in danger.
Tina was wrong. This one time, in a matter that was as important to her as it was to me, this one time she had screwed up. Who knew why? The stress of being away from home? The hassle of going through Customs via coffin? The important thing was, she was stressed out and jumping to conclusions. Because the alternative was totally beyond my grasp. I couldn't imagine a world without Sinclair in it. And wasn't that silly? Two years ago, I hadn't even known the guy existed.
"Tina, stop hitting that wall. You're going to hurt yourself."
"I did," she said dully. "I broke most of the fingers my left hand."
"Jeez, what are you punching, cement?"
"Yes."
"Well, stop. Focus on getting back."
"Place" came out like "placcccce" because Tina hissed it as opposed to saying it like person who wasn't half crazy with guilt and grief.
More riots in France! Perfect timing. So typical of France not to consider my needs before passing martial law.
"I know it seems tough, but they'll eventually let planes out, they've got to. For one thing, FedEx can't get there. People need their overnight packages, Tina! They want their Sephora and their cheese. The French people won't stand for it, trust me, the airports won't be closed for long. Or at least get out of the country and take a plane from a country that isn't rioting in the streets."
"That is. . . excellent advice, Majesty." I could hear the surprise in her voice, but couldn't blame her. It was weird enough Tina hadn't thought of it. Weirder that I had. It showed how upset she real was. And how convinced she was that Sinclair was dead, how rattled her conclusions had made her. "I will start at once. With your permission, I will not waste your time with phone calls unless I have new to report."
"That's fine, Tina."
"And, Majesty?"
"Yeah?"
"Consider now following my advice. Do not answer the phone, do not answer the door. I doubt whoever ki-"
"Don't say it!"
"-I doubt whoever detained His Majesty will be content only with him."
"That's better. Detained. Yep, that's the word of the day, all right. Listen, be careful."
"You took the words," she said, "right out of my mouth." And without so much as a "See ya later, gator," she hung up.