Dead Girls Don't Cry Read Online Free PDF Page B

liar. She extended her trembling hand, “I don’t have all day.”
    Blunt and no manners. I bristled, angling my left arm behind my back. “The queen’s orders were very clear. The bracelet is mine.”
    “Petulant whore. Hand it over.” Thalia lunged forward.
    I easily evaded her. Unbidden, words escaped my lips. In Victoria’s voice, I said, “Treason, my daughter. Do not try my patience further. Return to me now.”
    Thalia’s eyes narrowed into slits, a cruel leer painted on her lips. She opened her mouth, then clamped it shut so hard her teeth clacked. Yowling, like a pissed off alley cat, she turned on one heel and marched away.
    I shivered. Goosebumps pimpled my skin. It was just a piece of jewelry. Right?
    A pathological pull twisted my gut, insisting I join the queen outside. I raced to the alley door. Others had the same compulsion and I had to push my way past the stage crew and my fellow performers before reaching the street.
    Long black limousines were parked along the street. Queen Victoria’s car sported foreign dignitary flags, each decorated with a lion and a unicorn behind a shield of red, blue, and gold.
    Flash bulbs popped. Their brightness punctuated the night sky as paparazzi jockeyed for a good shot of the sovereign and her party.
    Jonathan would be in his glory, the club guaranteed to sell out for months, possibly for the next few years. I couldn’t complain. It meant more money and security for the family.
    As she exited the club, the queen’s security detail surrounded her until her tiny frame disappeared in a sea of brawny bodies. With the amount of power she emitted, Victoria had to be nearly indestructible. The retinue moved to one of the middle limousines. The bodyguards parted long enough for me to catch a glimpse of her white hand waving as she approached the car.
    A whistle screeched above the din of the crowd.
    What the heck?
    An explosion shattered windows. Orange flames engulfed the crowd clustered around the limousine. Screams pierced the air as my hearing slowly came back on line. Bystanders scattered in every direction, pushing and shoving, desperate to get away.
    The queen’s limousine was a twisted, smoking hulk. The stench of burnt meat and gasoline gagged me.
    A few of the strippers stood behind me sniffling. One of them said, “What’ll we do? They’ll be war! Like in the old days!”
    Lemmy comforted her. “There, there Joy. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”
    A deep crater replaced the spot where the queen and her bodyguards had been. My eyes couldn’t make sense of the gore and scattered body parts littering the road. Smoke billowed from the hole, blackening the air. The wind reversed and a cloud masked the carnage.
    A familiar blond head moved through the crowd across the street. Ian McDevitt stood out like a sore thumb. The only bystander acting like nothing major had happened. Ian caught my gaze and our eyes met. He shook his head at me, then disappeared into the throng.
    He had advance warning . I wanted to puke.
    I didn’t have time to ponder the question. Morton appeared in the spot Ian had vacated. Cold hatred filled his eyes. All of it directed at me. What the hell? With a final long stare Morton turned away.
    Another noise caught my attention over the cries and moans. Camera clicks. The surviving paparazzi unashamedly photographed the crater and the remains. Vermin.
    “Mother!” One voice keened above the din. The paparazzi changed focus. Cameras swung in a new direction. Flashbulbs blazed even brighter than the small fires burning in the street.
    Princess Thalia erupted onto the scene. Unlike her reclusive mother, she was always in the vampire news. The classic spoiled princess: party all night, shop all day. She faced the cameras, tears on display. The perfect, mourning daughter.
    Too bad the media had missed her earlier, greedy bracelet grab.
    The crowd quieted as she advanced toward the crater.
    Thalia stood over the wreckage and then knelt down.