Death's Excellent Vacation - By Charlaine Harris & Toni L. P. Kelner Page 0,31

subject. “Verses might have other things to do, Tammy.”

“Keeping a pretty lady happy always takes priority,” Verses said, winking at her.

Bones tugged my hand. “This shouldn’t take too long, Kitten.”

We left Tammy on the dance floor with the ghoul to head toward the glittering blue bartender and the gray-haired undead gossip.

I sat a few seats away from Bones at the bar, dividing my attention between eavesdropping on him and keeping an eye on Tammy. So far, she seemed to be fine, and Verses had been right; the wrinkled vampire next to Bones didn’t need much prodding to start chattering. Bones let him pick the topics for the first half hour or so, then he turned the conversation.

“Bloody economy’s got us all buggered,” Bones declared, draining his whisky in one gulp. “Take me. Three years ago, I’m living the posh life off my investments. Today, I’m guarding a human to scrape by. Like to stake myself and save the embarrassment, I would.”

Poppy snickered. “What’re you guarding a human against? Tax evasion?”

They both laughed, and then Bones lowered his voice conspiratorially. “No, mate, against her relative. In truth, I wonder if I shouldn’t be on the other side of this coin.”

Even across the bar, I could see the gleam of interest in Poppy’s eyes. “What other side?”

Bones leaned in, lowering his voice even further until I could barely hear him. “The side that gets paid more if the whiny brat dies. Faith, if I knew how to contact the chit’s smarmy cousin, I’d take that job instead of the one I’ve got. Then I’d get a meal out of it to boot.”

Poppy chewed on his drink straw. “Can’t ya find out from the girl where this relative is?”

“She doesn’t know. Believe me, I asked with the brights on.” Bones tapped under his eye for emphasis. “I can’t take another month of this. I’ll eat her and then get no bloody money from anyone.”

Poppy glanced around. I looked away, pretending to study my drink. When I strained, I caught his reply.

“Had a fellow here last night. He’s in the population reduction business, if you know what I mean, and he was laughin’ about this job where hired meat tried to use a bone muncher to tidy things up on a contract that was runnin’ long. You’ll never guess what happened. Somehow, the bone muncher ends up dead. Dead! Then the mark disappears. The way I heard it, now the meat’s worried about his contract gettin’ canceled.”

Forty minutes later, this finally pays off, I thought.

“You hear the name of this meat?” Bones asked casually. “I might be interested in helping him out once I’m finished with this job.”

“Think I heard the fellow call him Serpentine. Isn’t that funny? The meat renamed himself just like he’s a vampire.”

Serpentine. I’d have Don burning up the computers on that alias as soon as we got home.

“Ah, mate, I owe you. Next round’s on me.”

Bones stayed another twenty minutes, letting Poppy ramble more until I fantasized about wrapping duct tape around the vampire’s mouth. Finally, Bones feigned regret over needing to leave, but told Poppy he’d be back next weekend. And complained about how he’d have the bratty heiress with him.

My brows rose. What are you up to, Bones?

Six

I pulled the clothes out of the dryer and stifled a curse. Bleach stains everywhere. Tammy was twenty; how could she not know how to do a load of laundry without ruining everything?

Still, at least Tammy was doing her own laundry now. Or trying to. That was the result of my mother’s influence. Twenty years of spoiled rich bitch didn’t stand a chance against forty-six years of farm-reared discipline. Even though I was much closer to Tammy’s age and my mother made Tammy do things that caused the blonde to wail, to my surprise, my mother was the person Tammy seemed to have bonded with.

Perhaps that was my fault. Maybe I was so used to being in search-and-destroy mode that I couldn’t tackle being in a nurturing one instead. The thought was oddly depressing. Check my ovaries, Doctor, because maybe I’m not really a woman.

After dinner—which my mother still insisted on cooking, not that I complained—we sat by the fireplace. It was time to fill Tammy in on what we’d found out.

“Tammy, here’s what’s going on: Don still hasn’t found your cousin, but Bones found out that the original hit man who took your contract is dead.”

Tammy bolted out of her chair. “That’s great! Does it mean I can go