Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy(71)

“Nice family.” Dan sounded thoroughly disgusted.

“He was so lonely I kept going to visit him every couple of weeks free of charge. You’re so sweet to have come, Martin. I swear I never meant to leave you alone.”

I wept for him, this kind, abandoned man who looked forward to our games of checkers and shared his memories of European and Asian tours with such vivid descriptions that I often felt I’d visited those far off lands myself. Who would spend time with this forgotten being who subsisted on meager Social Security checks? He had no one, no one at all to care now.

The room quieted. Martin’s head lifted as everyone’s attention was drawn to the front of the room, near where Tristan and Patricia had been posted. I rose to my feet with Dan’s silent assistance to see what was going on.

Tristan had stepped behind a small wooden podium, apparently ready to make a statement or speech. Patricia took a seat nearby.





The vampire commissioner’s dark gaze swept the room. “Thank you for coming to say goodbye to this young woman, Brandilynn Payson.”

Dan whispered in my ear. “Keep an eye out for strangers. Maybe your killer will show up and you’ll remember him.”

As Tristan made remarks about how unfair death could be, snatching away the life of those with so many hopes and dreams ahead of them, I scanned the crowd. Close by, I noticed a lovely blond woman standing near Lana and Taylor. Her hair and makeup were perfect. She had impeccable taste in clothes, the wine-colored silk dress with color-coordinated strappy heels classy and understated.

I nodded in her direction. “I don’t know her.”

“That’s Yelena. She’s the witch who does most of Tristan’s protection.”

I had a sudden vision of Glenda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz. “The one who warded the library?”

“Right.”

Yelena’s face seemed kind. She probably attended out of respect to Tristan, but I appreciated her presence just the same. “It’s nice that she came.”

Yelena looked right at me. She nodded with a smile before returning her attention to Tristan. I went very still as my vampire boyfriend told the assembled that a person’s life must be assessed not only by their deeds, but also by their aspirations and what they might have accomplished had life been a bit more fair.

“She can see us, like Erica.”

Dan’s grip on my hand tightened with reassurance. “All witches have the second sight. You have nothing to fear from her.”

I noted another three strangers, men wearing wrinkled shirts rolled up at the sleeves and badly knotted ties. “Don’t know them.”

“Reporters. One from the local paper and the other two are from Jacksonville.”

I wondered why my funeral wasn’t more of a local media circus, especially with Tristan attached to it. “There aren’t any cameras. No one is here from the television stations.”

Dan quirked a smile. He looked pleased. “Tristan wouldn’t allow it. He almost didn’t let any of the media attend.”

Interesting. I fell quiet to think about that and listen to Tristan eulogize me.

He did a fine job, in my opinion. His mellow voice rolled through the room, soothing the edges of my ragged nerves. “Though I did not have the opportunity to know Brandilynn Payson in life, I have spoken to those who knew her best. The media has seized on the more sensational aspects of her life and her tragic passing, but to those who had the pleasure of her company speak of a warm, caring individual who deserved so much more than fate saw fit to give her.”

I glanced at Martin, who nodded slowly, tears sparkling down his wrinkled cheeks. “Wowsers, it sucks I had to die to hear nice things said about me,” I said, trying to distract myself from a fresh wave of pain.





Dan squeezed my hand. “That’s the way it goes unfortunately.”

Tristan went on, describing me as funny, effervescent with kindness, and a whole bunch of other first-rate qualities until he made me sound like Mother Theresa’s twin sister. Did he really think those things about me?

I said, “You know, I half expected him to take the opportunity to further his own agenda, make himself look good for the press.”

“Tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you.”

As warm and fuzzy as Tristan made me feel, I was determined to expose any hidden scheme. “He let some media in.”

Dan’s tone was firm. “Only in hopes they would give your memory a break. He wants them to stop dragging you through the mud, so to speak.”

Tristan defended me. Like a protective boyfriend. Like someone who really cared. I struggled against tears again. Crybaby Brandilynn. “I need to stop being so mean about him being a bloodsucker.”