The Good The Bad And The Undead Page 0,102

woke up. That wasn't like her at all, but I knew better than to force a conversation before she was ready.

"Hey," Janine said, jerking my attention back. "Paula and I are going out to Piscary's for some lunch before the sun goes down and the place fills up with undead vamps. Do you want to come? We'll wait for you."

Her offer pleased me more than I wanted to admit, but I shook my head. "Thanks, no. I've already made plans to meet my boyfriend." Nick was working in the next building over, and as he quit today about the time my class was supposed to end, we were going to Micky-d's for his dinner and my lunch.

"Bring him along," Janine urged, her thick blue eyeliner clashing with her otherwise tasteful appearance. "Having one guy at a table of girls always brings the good-looking, single men to the table."

I couldn't help my smile. "No-o-o-o," I hedged, not wanting to tell her Piscary scared the peas out of me, set my demon scar tingling, and was my roommate's uncle, for lack of a better word. "Nick's human," I said. "It'd be kind of awkward."

"You're dating a human!" Janine whispered harshly. "Hey, is it true what they say?"

I gave her a sideways look as Paula finished with Dr. Anders and joined us. "About what?" I asked as Paula shoved her unwilling cat into a collapsible carrier amid yowls and spitting. I stared, appalled, as she zipped the door shut.

"You know..." Janine nudged my arm. "Do they have, uh... Are they really..."

Pulling my eyes from the shaking carrier, I grinned. "Yeah. They do. They really are."

"Yowsers!" Janine exclaimed, reaching to take Paula's arm. "You here that, Paula? I gotta charm me a human before I get too old to appreciate him."

Paula was flushed, looking especially red against her blond hair. "Stop it," she hissed, shooting a glance at Dr. Anders.

"What?" Janine said, not a bit flustered as she opened her carrier and her cat voluntarily went in, curling up and purring. "I wouldn't marry one, but what's wrong with rolling around with a human while you're looking for Mr. Right? My dad's first wife was human."

Our conversation was cut short as Dr. Anders cleared her throat. Janine grabbed her purse and slid off the lab stool. Giving the two women a thin smile, I reluctantly dragged Bob's peanut butter tub off the lab bench and made my way forward. Nick's pentagrams were tucked under my arm, and Dr. Anders didn't look up as I slid the container onto the open space of her desk.

I wanted to wrap this up and get out of here. Nick was going to drive me out to the FIB tonight after lunch so I could talk to Sara Jane. Glenn had asked her to come in so he could get an idea of Dan's daily patterns, and I wanted to ask her about Trent's whereabouts the last few days. Glenn wasn't happy about my angle of investigation, but it was my run, too, damn it.

Nervous, I forced myself to the back of the chair beside Dr. Anders's desk, wondering if Jenks was right and Sara Jane's coming to the FIB was Trent's roundabout way to get his claws into me. One thing was certain. Dr. Anders wasn't the witch hunter. She was nasty, but she wasn't a murderer.

The two women hesitated in the doorway to the hall, their cat carriers pulling them both off balance. "See you Monday, Rachel," Janine said.

I gave her a wave, and Dr. Anders made an annoyed noise deep in her throat. The uptight woman put a blank form on top of the stack of papers and printed my name in large block letters.

"Turtle?" Dr. Anders guessed as she glanced at my container.

"Fish," I said, feeling like an idiot.

"At least you know your limits," she said. "Being an earth witch, it would be difficult for you to hold enough ever-after to bind a rat to you, much less the cat I'm sure you wanted."

Her voice was just shy of patronizing, and I had to unkink my hands from their tight grip.

"You see, Ms. Morgan," Dr. Anders said as she opened the lid and took a peek, "the more power you can channel, the smarter your familiar needs to be. I have an African gray parrot as my familiar." She brought her gaze to mine. "Is that your homework?"

I stifled a surge of annoyance and handed her a pink folder full of short essays. Under it

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