"How could she?" I moaned. "How could she?"

"Because she's jealous of you," Jessica said bluntly. "She has been since the day she moved into your dad's house. She probably thought she was well rid of you back in April. But you were too dumb to stay dead. So, she figures, 'I'll have my own kid, and then I'll get my share of the attention and Betsy's.'"

Yep, that was the Ant, all right. To a T.

"I admit," Mom said, "I was surprised. I hadn't expected Antonia to go that route." She laughed suddenly. "Your poor father!"

"He deserves it," I said. I was slumped over in the passenger seat, praying for death. I'd refused to put my seat belt on. Right now, I'd welcome a trip through the windshield. "He picked her. He married her."

"And he's been paying for it ever since, Elizabeth," Mom said in her "don't argue with me" tone. "It's time you grew up and let it go. If I'm not angry anymore, why are you?"

"Shut up."

"Beg pardon, young lady?"

"I said, we've showed up. We're here."

My mom gasped as we swung into the driveway. I couldn't blame her. I still half-expected to get thrown out of the mansion myself whenever I ventured past the main hall.

"Oh, Jessica, how marvelous! I suppose it's ridiculously expensive."

"Yeah," she said modestly.

"My goodness! What a palace!"

Jessica, I could see with a sour eye, was lapping this up. I didn't say anything, though I sure felt like it. Jessica's parents died when she was a kid, my mom was the closest thing she'd had to a maternal-type, and Jess adored her.

"Come on up, I've got some sweatpants I can let you have." Mom's skirt was, of course, ruined. Beef shake, bile, and cashmere... not a pleasant combo.

"It's really not nee-"

"What, you're going home in your pantyhose? Give me a break. Come on."

"Vampires," Mom whispered to Jessica, "are so touchy."

"I heard that," I snapped.

"Did you really?"

"It sucks," Jessica murmured back. "I can't cut a fart on the third floor without Bets hearing it on the first."

"Goodness."

As we stepped into the entryway, Marc was walking through carrying a pitcher of iced tea. "Hi, Dr. T. Hey, just in time, you guys! Your guests are here."

"What guests?"

"Um, let's see." Marc started ticking them off on the fingers of his free hand. "There's two of the Blade Warriors, the king of the vampires, the vampire who made him, the local parish priest, and one other vampire. Sarah something."

"Great," I griped. "Am I the only one who calls if I'm going to show up at someone's house uninvited?"

"Apparently so," Sinclair said, appearing from nowhere as usual. My mom jumped about a foot. So did I. "Dr. Taylor. A pleasure to see you again."

Mom practically swooned when Eric took her hand in both of his and bowed over them like a dead Maitre d'. "Oh, your Majesty. Nice to see you, too."

"Eric, please, Dr. Taylor. After all, you're not one of my subjects. Pity," he sighed.

"And you must call me Elise," she simpered.

"And I must vomit. Again," I announced. "Will you two stop making googly eyes at each other for five seconds?"

"Forgive my daughter," Mom said, staring raptly up into Sinclair's eyes. "She's normally much more pleasant. She's had a rough night."

"Of course, as she is your daughter, I expect great things of her."

"Why, Eric! How sweet. Betsy never told me you-"

"Seriously, you guys? I'm gonna barf again. So cut it out."

"I will also," Sarah said. I turned; she was standing in the entryway to the second living room. "If we're finished for the evening, I'd like to go."

"No," Sinclair said.

"Yes," I said at exactly the same time. "In fact, why don't all of you go? I'm not in the mood."

"Get in the mood. We have serious business to attend to." The frost in his voice melted as he turned puppy eyes to my mother. "Serious vampire business, dear lady, or of course I would insist you join us. We could use a fine mind like yours."

"I want to go!" Sarah shouted. Actually shouted! I thought I was the only one who yelled at Sinclair. "I want to go now!"

"What's your problem?" Marc asked. The iced tea pitcher was sweating like Rush Limbaugh in July, and dripping on the floor. He looked around for a piece of furniture less than two hundred years old to set it on, in vain. So he grimly hung onto the pitcher. Note to self: Buy coasters. "I heard you don't like this place. What's your damage?"

"If you must know," Sarah said, biting off each word like she'd probably like to bite off Marc's fingers, "I had a daughter once. And she was... well, she died. Here. In this house. And I don't want to talk about it and I don't want to be here."

She took a step forward and walked into Sinclair's outstretched arm. I actually heard my jaw muscles creak as my mouth fell open. "You what?" I practically screamed.

"A child? A blond girl?" Sinclair asked sharply.

I shouldered him aside. "Is her name Marie? Does she wear headbands to keep her hair out of her eyes? And saddle shoes with anklets? And overalls?"

Sarah burst into tears. This was more shocking than when she yelled at Sinclair. "You know about her? How did you know? Who told you? Don't talk to me about her, I don't want you to do that!"

"Sarah, she's buried in my front yard!"

"She's what?" Jessica asked sharply. "You're forgetting to share again, dead girl."

"Come on!" I pointed up the stairs. "To the vampire bedroom!" I whipped around, which made my mom just about fall over. I must have been moving too fast for her to track again. "Mom, I gotta take care of this right now, okay? We'll talk later, okay? Only this is important. Okay?"

"Of course." She hugged me. "Go do your work."

"Mom." I wriggled free. "You're embarrassing me in front of the other vampires."

I dashed up the stairs.

I burst into my bedroom, with entirely too many people hot on my heels. "Marie!" I bawled. "Marie, come out!"

She faded into sight. I'd never seen her do it before and let me tell you, it was weird. At first I didn't think she was in the chair, and then the chair looked a little blue around the edges, and then it was like a faded Marie was sitting there, and then a regular Marie was sitting there.

"What?" she asked, looking puzzled. Then she looked past me and her eyes went huge. "Mommy!"

I turned; Sarah would need my help. "Sarah, you can see the ghost if-"

She knocked me into Tina as she lunged past. "Sweetie bug!"

Tina steadied me and muttered, "Sweetie bug?" at the same instant. I felt her pain; it was all I could do not to snicker, too.

Sarah tried to hug Marie, but ended up nearly falling into the chair instead. This did not forestall a lecture. "Mommy, where have you been? I've been waiting and waiting!" Marie had her hands on her hips; she was the picture of outraged patience.

Sarah backed off and tried to answer, but cried harder instead.

"Marie," Sinclair asked, "what did the man who knocked you down look like?"

"Don't ask her about that," Sarah ordered. Her voice was still thick, but her maternal hackles were raised. King or no king, Sinclair wasn't going to cause her kid any pain. I really liked her for it. I felt bad about all the times I blew her off as an icy weirdo. "You don't have to, anyway. It was Nostro. He killed her. And turned me."

"And you were mad at me for killing him?" I asked, aghast.

"It's... complicated," she said, my least favorite word of the week.

I heard a snap and looked; Tina had picked up the chair and broken one of the legs off of it. "Stop that, the thing's probably worth six figures," I ordered. "Well, now what? I mean, they're reunited." Did this mean Sarah was going to move in, so she could be close to Marie? Shit, I hoped not. If I let one vampire move in, I'd have to let 'em all in!

Sarah was waving her hand through Marie's head.

"Mommy, come on. What's taking so long? Let's go!"

Sarah turned toward me. She had aged ten years in ten seconds. Her face was haggard and still she sobbed. "Betsy, my Queen, I need a favor."

"What?"

"Is it-I heard you think we have souls. That vampires have souls."

"Uh..." Where was she going with this? I was starting to get a really bad feeling. "Yeah, that's true. I mean, that's what I think."

"So it is true," Sarah said. "Because you're the queen. And your will is our will. So it says in the Book of the Dead."

That thing again. "Okay. I mean, sure, whatever you say."

"Yes. All right."

There was a pause, like she was nerving herself to say something. If she'd been human, she probably would have taken a steadying breath.

"Then I must ask a favor. I'd like you to kill me. Right now."