“We appreciate that, Marshal, and we wouldn’t have had you walk into this blind if we didn’t feel that the fewer people who know the details, the better off we’re going to be,” Brent said.
“Awesome,” I said, “but the foreplay is getting a little tiresome; there’s no one in the room but the four of us, so what is on the video?”
“Are you always this cranky?” Manning asked.
Zerbrowski laughed out loud and didn’t even try to hold it in. “Oh, Agent Manning, this isn’t even close to cranky for my partner.”
“We heard that about her, and you’re right, Blake. I did come in here expecting the proposal to have softened that reputation. I didn’t think I had that much girl left in me, and if I’m assuming that it softened you up, then your male colleagues must be making your life . . . difficult.”
It was my turn to laugh. “That’s one way of putting it, but honestly it’s the whole engaged-to-a-vampire thing that’s making some of my fellow officers doubt whose side I’m on.”
“Vampires are legal citizens now, with all the rights that entails,” she said.
“Legally, yeah, but prejudice doesn’t go away just because a law changes.”
“You’re right about that,” she said. “In fact, some at the bureau thought we shouldn’t include you in this case because of your proclivity to date the preternatural.”
“Proclivity, that’s polite; so what made you decide to trust me?”
“You still have the highest kill count of any vampire executioner in the United States, and only Denis-Luc St. John has more rogue lycanthrope kills than you.”
“He raises Troll-Hounds; they’re the only breed of dog ever raised specifically to hunt supernatural prey. It makes him the king of tracking through wilderness areas, after shapeshifters.”
“Are you implying that the dogs make him better at the job, or that he’s somehow cheating by using them?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Neither, just a statement of fact.”
“Now that Anita has passed muster, and I’m included because I’m her friend, show us some skin, agents, or stop teasing,” Zerbrowski said.
“Oh, you’ll see skin,” Brent said, and he looked older again, as if this case in particular were rubbing the shine away.
“What the hell is on the video, Agent Brent?” I asked.
“Zombie porn,” Brent said, and hit the arrow in the middle of the screen.
2
“SORRY, AGENTS, BUT that’s not new. It’s sick, but it’s not new.”
Brent hit the screen and froze the dark cemetery scene in midmotion. It was shaky and dark, and there were no zombies or anyone else in sight yet. The two agents looked at me as if I’d said something bad.
“Did we pick the wrong animator?” Manning asked her partner.
“Maybe,” he said.
“I’ve been approached for years to help people make sex tapes with zombies. Dead celebrities bring out the creeps the most.” I shivered, because the whole thought of it was just so wrong.
“My favorite of your sickos like that are the ones who want you to raise their high school crush,” Zerbrowski said.
“Yeah, now that they have money and success they want one more go at the girl who rejected them in high school, or college.” I shook my head.
“That’s sick, as in seek-a-therapist sick,” Manning said.
“Agreed, and I honestly think they don’t really believe it’s going to be a zombie. Somewhere in their minds they think she’ll rise from the grave and they’ll be able to prove they’re worthy and live happily ever after.”
“Wow, Anita, that’s a romantic take on the sick bastards that just want to boff the girl that rejected them in high school.” Zerbrowski actually looked surprised.
I shrugged, fought off a scowl, and finally said, “Yeah, yeah, one epic proposal and I go all girly on you.”