Undead and Unemployed

Chapter 16

I opened my eyes to see Marie hovering over me.
"You've got to stop doing that," I said, throwing back my comforter with a groan.
"I'm bored."
"Well, sugar, what the hell am I supposed to do about it? Go find your dad."
"And you never wake up when I talk to you."
"Never mind about that." I yawned. Another night in the salt mines. "Scoot, I've got to get dressed for work."
I jumped in the shower, got cleaned up, and dressed for work. Marie had indeed scooted, and for a change I had my bedroom to myself.
Jessica tapped on the door while I was putting on my mascara, and I yelled for her to come in.
"Evening, dead girl. Um. Why are your books all facing the wrong way?"
I shrugged.
"Fine, be mysterious. Sinclair called. He's bringing some people over tonight."
"That's nice. I'm not going to be here, though."
"Ooooh, the diss du jour."
"It's not a diss; I've got to work. Besides, it serves him right for not even asking if he can come over."
"Yeah, that'll learn him. Listen, are you going to keep an eye on the Blade Warriors, or what?"
"Me?" I said, appalled. And what was I thinking when I bought navy blue mascara? The new black, my foot. My eyelashes looked cyanotic. "Why the hell would I do that?"
"Well, you want to make sure they're not going to run around axing any more vamps, right?"
"Why would they? We explained all that last night. About how they're toys in the hands of a fiendish master, blah-blah, time to stop killing dead people and figure out what's going on."
"I still think someone should keep an eye on them."
"You watch the zit brigade."
"Oh, that's nice," she said, but she laughed.
"Not a single one of them can walk into a bar and legally order a drink. I didn't like hanging around with teenagers when I was one."
"Says the former Miss Burnsville."
"I can't help it," I said with great dignity, "if my fellow inmates liked me more than I liked them."
"Maybe you can channel the Warriors' energy in a new direction," she suggested.
I nearly put my eye out with the mascara wand. "Maybe you can, you're so worried about it. I'm in charge of the dead people, not the live ones."
"Well, I think they're looking for direction." She added slyly, "Jon's already called for you five times."
"What, during the day? Idiot."
"I think he's got a crush."
"So that's where you're going with this. Great. Just what I need."
"Hey, there's worse problems to have."
"Name one."
"I can't right now. But I'm sure something will come to me," she added cheerfully.
I was in a fairly foul temper when I stomped out of the house. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite quick enough. I ran into Sinclair, Tina, Monique, and a vampire I didn't know on my way to the car.
"How nice of you to come out to meet us," Sinclair said. "Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm on my way to work." I glanced at my watch. "In fact, I've got about twenty minutes to get there. Bye."
"This is Sarah," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Sarah, this is Elizabeth the First, our sovereign."
The First? I was a First?
Sarah nodded coolly. She was short, about Tina's height, with close-cropped brown hair and brown eyes with green flecks. She was wearing black slacks, a sleeveless black turtleneck, and crocodile flats. Her slacks were belted, also via crocodile. Sharp!
"Sarah's in town to pay her respects," Tina said, breaching the silence.
"Hardly," Sarah sniffed. Tina jabbed her in the side with her elbow, but Sarah's expression didn't change.
"Nice to meet you," I said, trying to lighten the tension. One thing about dead people, once they'd been vampires for a few decades, they really figured out the style thing. "Great shoes."
"You killed Nostro." It wasn't a question.
"Well, yes."
"You did."
"Sarah..." Sinclair warned.
"Hey, it was self-defense! Sort of. Okay, not really. I mean, it was self-defense in the sense that he eventually would have tried to kill me again, and he'd already tried to kill me twice-or was it three times?-and I sort of caught him between attempts, but it's not like I started anything. He started it! And I didn't exactly do the deed myself, you know. I mean, I was responsible and all, because I set the Fiends on him, but I didn't actually bite his head off."
Sarah was staring at me. Tina was staring at the ground and nibbling on her lower lip, and Sinclair had his eyes closed.
"What?" I griped. "I'm just telling her what happened. And now I really, really have to go. Go in if you want, Jessica's home, but next time call first so I can be home when you come over." Ha! Not likely. But it was the polite thing to say.
"I'm not going in that house," Sarah said.
"What have you got against my house? Are you the one Tina and Monique tried to bring over the other night, but you got pissy and walked away?"
"I did not get pissy."
"Okay, whatever." God, what a weirdo! "Never mind, I don't want to know. Listen, I'm going to be late."
"So you keep saying," Tina teased, "but I notice you're not going anywhere."
"We have pressing business," Sinclair-the-killjoy reminded me.
"Give me a break. You guys don't need me to figure out who the Puppet Master is. Go talk to the Warriors some more."
"Actually, they're meeting us here." He whipped out a card. From where, I had no idea-he wasn't wearing a suit jacket and his shirt didn't have any pockets. "We made the arrangements last night, and Jon gave me this."
"They've got business cards?" I rolled my eyes. "Jesus, why am I not surprised?" They all flinched. "And will you guys stop jumping like you've been goosed every time I take the Lord's name in vain?"
"Some things you cannot order," Sarah said, still ice-cool.
"Yeah, well, okay. Bye."
I walked past them and felt their eyeballs on me all the way to my car. Which was just as unpleasant as it sounds.
"You don't want that one," I whispered. "They say it's hand-stitched, but they lie."
"Oh-ho," my would-be shoe buyer said. "Tricky tricky."
"You might try one of the Pradas," I suggested. "I know she's really ubiquitous, but she deserves it. Look at the design! It's like a kimono for your foot."
"It's nice, but-"
"Holy God, it's true. You really do work at Macy's!"
I turned. Jon, weirdo leader of the Blind Warriors and surfing beach escapee, was standing by the cash register, staring at me with his mouth open so wide, I could see his fillings.
"What?" I snapped. Then, mindful of my customer, I forced a smile. "I'll be with you in a minute."
"No rush. I've got plenty of shoes," he retorted, grinning.
I turned back to my customer, who was determinedly jamming a size seven Escada onto her size nine foot. "Stop that," I said. "You'll ruin the lacing. Let me get you one in your size."
"This-is-my-size," she puffed.
Fine, enjoy blisters the size of plums. "I'll be over here if you need me," I said sweetly, then seized Jon by the elbow and hustled him over by the boots. He yelped as his feet left the floor. I put him down and hissed in his ear, "What are you doing here?"
"Wanted to see if it was true," he whispered back, his breath tickling my ear. "Are you sure you're a vampire?"
"You would not believe how many people ask me that."
"I'll bet," he said, staring at my name tag.
"What do you want?"
"Are you going to eat your customer?"
"No!"
"Don't yell, I was just asking. Can't we all just get along?"
"Says the vampire killer."
"I've reformed," he said, sounding hurt.
"Hmmm."
"Why are you wearing sunglasses inside at night?"
"Because I'm a big Corey Hart fan?" I guessed.
His blank stare reminded me that I was dating myself. Obviously the boy wasn't up on his '80s pop. "Never mind. Did Sinclair put you up to this? Oh, God-he's not here, is he?" I looked around wildly, but only saw retail customers.
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"Are you in law school? What's with the twenty questions? And no, he is not."
"Because he sort of acts like he is."
"One of the many, many reasons why I despise him. Now will you take a hike? You should be meeting with Sinclair and Tina and figuring out who sent you out to kill us, not bugging me."
He shifted from one foot to another. "Well... Ani's there, she's the brains, not me."
"Ani, the brains?"
"So I figured I'd come and see you. But if you really want me to go."
"Finally, he catches on! Yes, I really want you to go. Thanks a ton for stopping by," I said, giving him a gentle shove in the direction of the exit. "Bye!"
He turned and started walking backward, his hands stuffed in his faded jeans which were, I might add, about three sizes too small. His blond hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and even from eight feet away I could see how blue his eyes were, and how well he filled out his T-shirt. He practically radiated Good Boy Vibe. "I'm sorry I tried to kill you," he called, still walking backward.
I mimed locking my lips shut and throwing the key over my shoulder. He flashed another grin-product of a really excellent dental plan-turned around, and left in the direction of Orange Julius.
Nice kid. If Jessica was right, and he did have the hots for me, I'd have to squash him gently. For one thing, he was ten years younger. For another, he was alive. For another, I was a vampire and he was a vampire killer.
Besides, between work, and the queen of the dead thing, and fending off Sinclair, I just didn't have time to cram a boyfriend into my schedule.
Too bad.