[English] HALFWAY TO THE GRAVE

Halfway to the Grave
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"Nope, appears not. Good on you, that'll come in handy. Can't have you getting all weak-minded and forgetting your goals, can we? Probably it's your bloodline. It doesn't work on other vampires. Or humans who imbibe of vampire blood. Guess you have enough of us in you. Some humans are immune to it also, but only a very small percentage. Have to have extraordinary mind control or natural resistance not to let us in and meddle about. MTV and video games have solved that problem as far as most of humanity goes. That, and telly, as it were."

"Telly?" Who was that?

He grunted in amusement. "Television, of course. Don't you speak English?"

"You sure don't," I muttered.

Shaking his head, he frowned at me. "Daylight's burning, luv. We have a lot to cover. We've gone through the senses and the mind control, but don't forget our strength. Or our teeth. Vampires are strong enough to break you in half and carry the pieces with a finger. We can throw your car at you if we want to. And we'll rip you apart with our teeth. The question is, how many of our strengths do you have in you?"

Hesitatingly, I began to tick off my abnormalities.

"I can see very well and darkness doesn't affect me. I see as well at night as in the day. I'm faster than anyone I know, humanly speaking. I can hear things from far away, maybe not as far as you can. Sometimes in my room at night I could hear my grandparents downstairs whispering to each other about me..."

I stopped, judging from his look that I'd revealed too much about personal issues.

"I don't think I can control anyone's mind. I've never tried it, but I think if I could, people would have treated me differently." Dammit, there I was opening up again.

"Anyways," I went on, "I know I'm stronger than the average person. When I was fourteen, I beat up three boys, and they were all bigger than me. That was when I couldn't hide anymore from the fact that something was very wrong with me. You've seen my eyes. They're different. I have to control them when I'm upset so other people don't see them glow. My teeth are normal, I guess. They've never poked out funny, anyhow."

I glanced at him through lowered lashes. I'd never spoken of my differences to anyone like this before, even my mother. It upset her to know about them, let alone discuss them.

"Let me get this straight. You said at fourteen you truly realized your uniqueness. You didn't know what you were before? What did your mum tell you about your father when you were growing up?"

That was a very painful subject, and I felt a shudder go through me at the memory. A vampire was hardly the person I ever thought I'd be talking to about this.

"She never mentioned my father. If I'd ask, as I did when I was little, she'd change the subject or get angry. But the other children let me know. They called me a bastard from the time they could speak." I closed my eyes briefly, the shame still stinging. "Like I said, when I hit puberty I started to feel...even more different. So much worse than when I was a child. It got harder to hide my weirdness, like my mom told me to. I liked the night most. I'd wander for hours in the orchard. Sometimes I wouldn't even sleep until dawn. But it wasn't until those boys cornered me that I knew how bad it was."

"What did they do?" His voice was softer, almost gentle.

In my mind I could see their faces as clearly as if they stood before me.

"They were shoving me around again. Pushing me, calling me names, the usual stuff. That didn't set me off. It happened almost every day. But then one of them, I can't remember which, called my mother a slut, and I lost my temper. I threw a rock at him and busted his teeth out. The others jumped me, and I beat them. They never told anyone what happened. Finally, on my sixteenth birthday, my mother decided I was old enough to know the truth about my father. I didn't want to believe her, but deep down, I knew it was true. That was the first night I saw my eyes glow. She held a mirror up to my face after stabbing me in the leg. She wasn't being mean. She wanted me upset so I could see my eyes. About six months later, I killed my first vampire."

My eyes stung with unshed tears, but I wouldn't cry. Could not cry in front of this thing who had made me retell what I'd tried to forget.

He stared at me in a very peculiar way. If I didn't know better, I would say there was empathy in his gaze. But that was impossible. He was a vampire, they didn't do compassion.

Abruptly I stood. "Speaking of my mother, I have to call her. She'll be worried sick. I've come home late before, but I've never been out this long. She'll think one of you bloodsuckers killed me."

That caused his eyebrows to fly into his hairline. "Your mum knows you've been luring vampires with promises of shagging and then killing them? And she allows you to do this? Blimey, I thought you were joking when you said she knew you were putting a dent in our population. If you were my child, I'd have you nailed inside your room at night. Don't understand people nowadays, let their kids do anything."

"Don't speak about her that way!" I burst out. "She knows I'm doing the right thing! Why wouldn't she support that?"

His eyes bored into mine very steadily, clear dark pools of brown. Then he shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Suddenly he stood in front of me. I hadn't even had time to blink, he was so fast.

"You've got good aim when you throw things. Found that out last night when you chucked your cross at me. Just think, a few inches lower and you might have been planting daisies over my head by now." He grinned as if amused at the mental image. "We'll work to improve your speed and accuracy. You'll be safer if you can kill from a distance. You're too bloody vulnerable up close."

He grasped me by the upper arms. I tried to pull away, but he held on. Iron bars would have had more give.

"Your strength leaves much to be desired. You're stronger than a human man, but probably as weak as the weakest vampire. We'll have to work on that as well. Also, your flexibility is **** and you don't use your legs at all when you fight. They're valuable weapons and should be treated as such. As for your speed, well...that might be hopeless. But we'll give it a go anyhow. The way I figure it, we have about six weeks before we can get you out in the field. Yep, five weeks of hard training, and one week to work on your looks."

"My looks?" Outrage filled my voice. How dare a dead man critique me? "What's wrong with my looks?"

Bones smiled condescendingly. "Oh, nothing horribly wrong, but still something that needs fixing before we send you out."

"You-"

"After all, we're going after some big fish, luv. Baggy jeans and a mediocre appearance won't cut it. You wouldn't know ***y if it bit you in the arse."

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"By God, I am going to-"

"Quit blathering. Didn't you want to call your mum? Come with me. My cell phone's in the back."

Mentally I performed all sorts of tortuous acts on his bound and helpless body, but in reality I bit my tongue and followed him deeper into the ****.

Chapter Four

H ARD TRAINING. THOSE WERE THE WORDS HE used to describe the brutal, agonizing, death-defying ordeals even the military wouldn't inflict on their most hardened troops.

Bones ran me through the forest at speeds cars couldn't sustain. I stumbled over fallen trees, rocks, roots, and natural potholes until I was too exhausted to even vomit. Passing out didn't excuse me from my tasks, either. He'd simply keep dousing icy water on my face until I came to again. I practiced throwing knives until my knuckles cracked and bled. His response? To uncaringly toss me some Neosporin and tell me not to get it on my palms or it would ruin my grip. His version of weight lifting? Hefting stone boulders repeatedly, gradually increasing their size and density. StairMaster? That would be climbing up the **** inclines with large rocks strapped to my back.

After one week, I threw off all of his artificial impediments and refused to go farther, stating had I known his intentions beforehand I would have gladly chosen death. Bones just smiled at me with his fangs extended and told me to prove it. Seeing that he was serious, I reapplied my outfittings and trudged wearily onward.

By far, though, the most grueling activity was up close with him. He stretched my limbs until tears poured down my face, chiding me all the while for my lack of flexibility. Then, during our hand-to-hand combat, he'd knock me into a state of unconsciousness that all the icy water in the world couldn't revive. I would wake up with the taste of his blood in my mouth, just to repeat the procedure all over again. To say I fantasized about killing him every second of every day was an understatement. Yet I got better, I had no choice. With Bones, it was either improve or die.

My first indication of increased stamina came after my second week of training. Bones and I fought and I actually didn't pass out. He still beat me soundly, but I remained conscious throughout. It was a mixed blessing. I had my dignity from not going night-night in the middle of our battle, but then was awake when he fed me his blood.

"Disgusting," I spat after being cajoled and then threatened into putting his bloody finger in my mouth. "How can you things live off that?"

The words left my lips without forethought, as had many before them.

"Necessity is the mother of all appetites. What you need in order *****rvive, you learn to love," he replied shortly.

"All this blood better not turn me into a vampire. That was not our deal."

I felt uncomfortable arguing with his finger jammed in my mouth, and I moved my head backward until it slid wetly out. It was almost a ***ual gesture. I blushed as soon as the thought flitted through my mind. He caught the flush, of course. No doubt the reason behind it as well, but just wiped his hand on his shirt.

"Trust me, luv, you aren't having nearly enough blood to turn you into a vampire. Since you fret about it all the time, however, I'll tell you how it works. First, I'd have to drain you to the very point of death. There's a trick to that, taking enough blood without taking too much. Then, stuffed full of your blood, I'd open my artery for you and let you drink it right back out of me. All of it, and then some. There's a trick to that, too. You have to be strong to make other vampires, or your would-be protegee sucks you dry and kills you while he or she is changing. New vampires are harder to get off an artery than a starving babe off a juicy teat. These measly drops of blood I'm feeding you aren't doing more than healing your injuries. They're probably not even enough to enhance your strength. Now, will you stop griping every time you have to lick a few bits off my pieces?"

That really caused me to color at the visual that skipped across my subconscious. Seeing it, he ran an aggravated hand through his hair.

"Now, that's another thing you have to stop doing. You turn red as a sunset at the slightest hint of innuendo. You need to be playing the part of an aggressive, horny woman! No bloke's going to believe that when he says boo and you faint from embarrassment. Your virginity's going to get you killed."

"I'm not a virgin," I countered, and then nearly did faint as predicted.

His dark brows went up. I turned away, sputtering, "Can we change the subject, please? We're not girlfriends at a slumber party. I don't want to be discussing this with you."

"Well, well, well," he drawled, ignoring my plea. "Kitten's catted around, has she? The way you act, I'm surprised. Chap waiting patiently for you to finish your training? Must be quite a lad, to get you all hot and bothered. Again, didn't peg you for the experienced type, but then again, you did offer me a taste when we first met. Makes me wonder now if you planned on staking me before or after you got your itch scratched. What about the other vampires? Did they die with a smile on their-"

I slapped him. Or tried to. He caught my wrist and held it, and caught the other one when I whipped my left palm toward his cheek.

"Don't you dare talk to me that way, I've heard enough of that crap growing up. Just because my mother had me out of wedlock, our stupid old-fashioned neighbors thought that made her a slut, and me, too, by default. And not that it's any of your business, since you've probably raped villages full of women, but I've only been with one person. He dropped me like a bad habit right afterwards, so that was enough to cure me of any desire I had to duplicate the ***ual escapades of my peers. Now, I mean it, I don't want to talk about this again!"

I was panting in pent-up fury over the wound he'd unknowingly ripped open. Bones released my wrists, and I rubbed them where his fingers had dug into my skin.

"Kitten," he began in a conciliatory tone, "I apologize. But just because your ignorant neighbors took their prejudice out on you, or some pimply-faced teenager pulled a one-nighter-"

"Stop it," I interrupted, terrified I was going to cry. "Just stop it. I can do the job, I can fake ***y, whatever. But we are not discussing this."

"Look, luv-" he tried again.

"Bite me," I snapped, and walked off.

For once, he didn't offer to take me up on the invitation, and he didn't follow me.

At the start of the fourth week, Bones announced we were taking a field trip. Of course, it wasn't an afternoon jaunt to the local museum. No, he had me driving along a narrow road at midnight with no idea where we were headed. He'd given me the barest direction-turn here, turn there, etc.-and I was nervous. We were in a very rural area, no streetlights along the road. If you wanted *****ck someone's neck dry and then dump the body, this would be an ideal place.

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Then again, if he'd wanted *****ck my neck dry and dump my body, the **** was a pretty ideal place as well. Considering all the times I'd been unconscious after our training bouts, he could have dined on me before if he'd wanted to. I wouldn't have been able to stop him. Hell, I wouldn't have been able to stop him when I was awake. I had yet to win a single round between us, to my dismay. Bones was so damned strong and fast, fighting against him was like trying to put a leash on a lightning bolt.

"Turn left here," Bones said, jarring me from my thoughts.

I read the name on the sign. Peach Tree Road. It didn't look like it led anywhere.

"You know, partner," I said as I made the turn, "you're being very secretive. When are you going to tell me what this field trip is about? I take it you didn't just get a sudden urge to go cow tipping."

He snorted. "No, can't say that I did. I need some information from a man who lives out here."

The way he said it made it sound like the person wouldn't be happy to see him. "Look, I refuse to be a part of killing any humans, so if you think you're going to interrogate this guy and then bury him, you're wrong."

I expected Bones to challenge me or get angry, but he started to laugh.

"I'm serious!" I said, stomping on the brakes for emphasis.

"You'll get the joke soon enough, luv," he replied. "But let me set your mind at ease. For one, I promise not to lay a single hand on the fellow, and for another, you'll be the one talking to him."

That surprised me. I didn't even know who the guy was, let alone what questions to ask.

An eyebrow arched at me. "Will we be driving again anytime soon?"

Oh. I let off the brake and hit the gas, jolting the truck forward. "Do I get any more details than that? Like, some background on him and what you want to know?"

"Of course. Winston Gallagher was a railway worker back in the sixties. He also had a side business of making moonshine. One day, a fellow bought one of Winston's products and then was found dead with it the next day. Winston might have mistaken the alcohol content for that batch, or the sot drank too much. Either way, it all ended the same. Winston was found guilty of murder and condemned to die."

"That's outrageous!" I exclaimed. "With no motive or proof of malice aforethought?"

"'Fraid the judge, John Simms, wasn't big on the idea of innocent until proven guilty. He also doubled as the executioner. Right before Simms hanged him, however, Winston swore he'd never let him have another night's peace. And since that day, he never has."

"He hung him?" I repeated. "The man you want me to speak to?"

"Pull over at that no trespassing sign, Kitten," Bones directed. I did, my mouth still open in disbelief. "Winston won't speak to me, since our kinds don't get along. He'll talk to you, though. But I warn you, he's about as cheerful as you currently are."

"What part of this am I not understanding?" My tone was waspish. Bitchy, me? "Did you or did you not say that judge hanged him?"

"Swung him right from the tree jutting over that cliff," Bones affirmed. "If you look, you can still see rope marks in it. A good many people lost their lives on that wood, but don't bother speaking to any one of them. They're residual. Winston's not."

I picked my words carefully. "Are you telling me Winston's...a ghost?"

"Ghost, specter, phantom, take your pick. What's most important is he's sentient, and that's rare. Most spooks are only replays of their former selves. Not able to interact, just doing the same thing over and over, like a record stuck on a turntable. Blimey, I'm dating myself; no one uses records anymore. Point is, Winston was so mad when he died, part of his consciousness stayed on. It's also due to location. Ohio has a thinner membrane for separating the natural from the supernatural, so it's easier for a soul to stay behind instead of crossing over. This particular area's like a homing beacon. Five cemeteries forming a pentagram-really, what were they thinking? It's a road map for spirits, is what it is. Thanks to your bloodline, you should be able to see them, whereas most humans can't. You should also be able to feel them by now. Their energy's like a voltage in the air."

He was right. I'd felt an invisible hum as soon as I'd turned onto this road, but I thought maybe my leg had fallen asleep or something.

"What kind of information could a vampire possibly want from a ghost?"

"Names," Bones said succinctly. "I want Winston to give you the names of any young girls that have recently died around these parts. Don't let him tell you he doesn't know, either-and I'm only interested in deaths by unnatural causes. No car accidents or diseases."

He didn't look like he was kidding, but I had to ask. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

Bones made a noise that was almost a sigh. "I wish it were, but it isn't."

"You're serious? You want me to go to a cemetery and ask a ghost about dead girls?"

"Come, now, Kitten, is it really so hard for you to believe in ghosts? You're half vampire, after all. I wouldn't think ghosts would be such a stretch of your imagination."

Put like that, he had a very good point. "And ghosts don't like vampires, so I guess I shouldn't mention my mixed lineage. Do I get to know why ghosts don't like vampires, by the way?"

"They're jealous, since we're as dead as they are, but we can do as we please while they're forever stuck as a hazy apparition. Makes them right cranky most of the time, which reminds me..." Bones handed me a bottle of something clear. "Take this. You'll need it."

I held it up and swished the liquid around. "What is it? Holy water?"

He laughed. "For Winston it is. That's white lightning. Pure moonshine, luv. Simms Cemetery is right past that line of trees, and you might have to bang about a bit to get Winston's attention. Ghosts tend to nap frequently, but once you've got him up, be sure to show him that bottle. He'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to go stomping through a graveyard brandishing a bottle of booze to rouse an unrestful spirit so that I can interrogate him?"

"That's it. And don't forget this. Pen and paper. Make sure to write down the names and ages of every girl Winston tells you about. If he can include how they died as well, so much the better."

"I should refuse," I muttered. "Because interrogating a ghost was not part of our agreement."

"If I'm right, this information will lead to a group of vampires, and hunting vampires is part of our agreement, isn't it?"

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I just shook my head as Bones gave me the pen, a small spiral notepad, and the bottle of illegal liquor. A vampire was having me go out and wake the dead. Guess it proved I wasn't psychic, because if someone had told me four weeks ago that I'd be doing this, I would never have believed it.

Simms Cemetery at midnight wasn't a soothing place. It had been hidden from the road by thick bushes, trees, and that rocky cliff. True to Bones's description, a tree still protruded over the precipice, and there was also a large evergreen in the midst of the dilapidated headstones. Seeing some of the dates clarified his earlier comment about Winston being a railway worker in the sixties. He'd meant the 1860s. Not this past century.

A figure behind me made me whirl with a little scream, my hand whipping out a knife.

"Are you all right?" Bones immediately called out. He was waiting out of sight beyond the cemetery, with the explanation that this way none of the dead dead would see him. The thought of vampires and ghosts not getting along was just too weird. Even in the afterlife, different species still couldn't play nice?

"Yeah..." I said after a beat. "It was nothing."

It wasn't, in fact, but it didn't require help. A hooded, shadowy form swept past me, literally floating over the cold earth. It went to the edge of the cliff and then disappeared with a faint sound, like a whispered scream. I watched in fascination as moments later it returned out of nowhere and walked the same path, culminating with another ghostly wail.

To my left, the indistinct outline of a woman was bent over another headstone, sobbing. Her clothing wasn't of this era, from the hazy glimpses I could catch of it, and then she, too, faded into nothingness. For a few minutes I waited, and then her outline blurred into view again. Soft, almost inaudible cries came from her until they, and she too, vanished once more.

A record stuck on a turntable, I thought with dark appreciation. Yeah, Bones had given a pretty accurate description of it.

In the corner of the cemetery, there was a headstone with barely visible etched letters, but I saw a w and a t in the first name, while the last one started with a g.

"Winston Gallagher!" I called loudly, rapping on the frigid stone for emphasis. "Come on out!"

Nothing. A breeze made me tighten my jacket while I shuffled my feet and waited.

"Knock, knock, who's there?" I said next, driven to absur***y by what I was doing.

Something moved at the edge of the trees behind me. Not the cloaked phantom, who was still traveling the same unaltered path, but almost a fuzzy shadow. Maybe it was just the bushes rustling in the wind. I returned my attention to the grave at my feet.

"Oh, Winsssttonnnnn..." I cooed, fingering the bottle inside my jacket. "I've got something for youuuu!"

"Cursed, insolent warm baggage," a voice slithered on the air. "Let's see how fast she can run."

I stiffened. That didn't sound like any person I'd heard before! The air in my vicinity got colder all at once even as I turned toward that voice. The shadow I'd previously observed stretched and changed, taking form, revealing a male in his fifties with a barrellike belly, squinting eyes, brown hair overrun with gray, and untrimmed whiskers.

"Hear that, do you?" Another odd keening came out of him, eerily echoing. He shimmered for a second, and then the leaves near where he hovered scattered in a burst of concentrated air.

"Winston Gallagher?" I asked.

The ghost actually looked over his shoulder, as if expecting to see someone behind him.

I put more stress into it. "Well?"

"She can't see me..." he said, presumably to himself.

"The hell I can't!" I marched over in relief, anxious to get out of this creepy place. "Is that your headstone? If the answer's yes, then tonight's your lucky night."

Those squinty eyes narrowed further. "You can see me?"

Was he this thick when he was alive? I wondered irreverently. "Yeah, I see dead people. Who knew? Now let's talk. I'm looking for some newly deceaseds, and I heard you could help."

It was almost funny to watch those transparent features change from incredulity to belligerence. He didn't have facial muscles anymore, needless to say. Was it just the memory of them that made his scowl form?

"Get out of here or else the grave will swallow you and you'll never leave!"

Boy, did he make it sound intimidating. If he had anything to threaten me with, I'd have been concerned.

"I'm not afraid of the grave; I was born half in it. But if you want me to get out of here"-I turned as if to go-"fine, but that means I'll just have to throw this in the nearest trash can."

Out of my jacket came the clear bottle with the lightning bolt. I almost laughed when his eyes fastened on it as though they were magically welded. This had to be Winston, all right.

"Whattt'ssss that you've got there, mistress?"

He drew the first word out in a lustful hiss. I popped the cork, waving it under where his nose appeared to be.

"Moonshine, my friend."

I was still uncertain how Bones thought I was supposed to bribe him with this. Pour some on his grave? Hold the bottle inside his disembodied form? Or splash him with it?

Winston made another keening noise that would have chilled anyone near enough to hear it.

"Please, mistress!" Gone was his hostile tone, replaced instead with one of desperation. "Please, drink it. Drink it!"

"Me?" I gaped. "I don't want any!"

"Oh, let me taste it through you, please!" he begged.

Taste it through me. Now I knew why Bones hadn't mentioned how to entice Winston before. That's what I got for trusting a vampire even in the littlest thing! I gave the ghost an irritable look while promising myself revenge on a certain pale-skinned, room-temperature creature of the night.

"Fine. I'll drink some, but then you're going to give me names of young girls who've died around here. No car accidents or diseases, either. Murders only."

"Read the paper, mistress, why do you need me for that?" he barked. "Now drink the 'shine!"

I was so not in the mood to be pushed around by another dead person. "Guess I've caught you on a bad night," I said pleasantly. "I'll just leave you alone and be on my way..."

"Samantha King, seventeen years old, passed last night after being bled to death!" he trumpeted. "Please!"

I didn't even have to ask for him to specify a cause of death. He must want that liquor real bad. I wrote the specifics down on my notepad and then tipped the bottle to my mouth.

"Mother of God!" I choked moments later, hardly noticing Winston's entire form diving through my throat like he'd been shot from a gun. "Arghh! That tastes like kerosene!"

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"Oh, the sweetness!" was his enraptured reply as he came out the other side of my neck. "Yessss! Give me more!"

I was still coughing, and my throat burned. Whether that was from the liquor or the ghost was anyone's guess.

"Another name," I managed to get out. "Then I'll have more."

Winston didn't need to be told twice any longer. "Violet Perkins, age twenty-two, died last Thursday of strangulation. Cried the whole way up."

He didn't sound particularly sad for her. A hand waved impatiently at me, its edges blurry. "Go on!"

One deep breath later and more moonshine went down the hatch. I coughed just as much as before, my eyes watering.

"Why would anyone pay for this swill?" I gasped when I came up for air. My throat was almost throbbing when Winston exited it and he floated back in front of me.

"Thought you'd taken my 'shine from me forever, didn't you, Simms?" Winston shouted at the passing hooded phantom. It didn't react. "Well, look who's drinking while you're condemned to eternally wander off that cliff! This nip's for you, old John! Carmen Johnson, twenty-seven, bled to death ten days ago. Drink, mistress! And this time, swallow like a woman, not like a gurgling babe!"

I regarded him with amazement. Out of all things, liquor seemed to be what he missed the most. "You're dead and you're still an alcoholic. That's so dysfunctional."

"A bargain's a bargain!" he belted. "Drink!"

"Prick," I muttered under my breath as I eyed the bottle unhappily. This stuff made gin taste like sugar water in comparison. You're going to get Bones back for this, I swore to myself. And not just with a silver stake. That's too good for him.

Twenty minutes later, my notepad had thirteen more names on it, the bottle was empty, and I was swaying on my feet. If I wasn't so dizzy, I'd have been amazed at all the girls who'd been murdered the past couple months. Hadn't the new governor just been bragging on TV about how the crime rate was way down? The names on my list sure seemed to indicate otherwise. Tell those poor girls the crime rate was down, I'd bet they'd all disagree.

Winston lay on the ground, his hands over his belly, and when I let out an extended burp, he smiled as though it had relieved his diaphragm also.

"Ah, mistress, you're an angel. Sure there's not a drop left? I might have remembered one more person..."

"Up yours," I said rudely with another belch. "It's empty. You should tell me the name anyway, after making me drink all that sewage."

Winston gave me a devious smile. "Come back with a full bottle and I will."

"Selfish spook," I mumbled, and staggered away.

I'd made it a few feet when I felt that distinct pins-and-needles sensation again, only this time it wasn't in my throat.

"Hey!"

I looked down in time to see Winston's grinning, transparent form fly out of my pants. He was chuckling even as I smacked at myself and hopped up and down furiously.

"Drunken filthy pig!" I spat. "Bastard!"

"And a good eve'in' to you, too, mistress!" he called out, his edges starting to blur and fade. "Come back soon!"

"I hope worms **** on your corpse!" was my reply. A ghost had just gotten to third base with me. Could I sink any lower?

Bones came out from behind the bushes about fifty yards away. "What happened, Kitten?"

"You! You tricked me! I never want to see you or that bottle of liquid arsenic again!"

And I chucked the empty moonshine jug at him. Or tried to. It missed him by a dozen feet.

He picked it up in astonishment. "You drank the whole bloody thing? You were only supposed to have a few sips!"

"Did you say that? Did you?" He reached me just as I felt the ground tip. "Didn't say anything. I've got those names, so that's all that matters, but you men...you're all alike. Alive, dead, undead-all perverts! I had a drunken pervert in my pants! Do you know how unsanitary that is?"

Bones held me upright. I would have protested, but I couldn't remember how to. "What are you saying?"

"Winston poltergeisted my panties, that's what!" I announced with a loud hiccup.

"Why, you scurvy, lecherous spook!" Bones yelled in the direction of the cemetery. "If my pipes still worked, I'd go right back there and piss on your grave!"

I thought I heard laughter. Or maybe it was just the wind.

"Forget it." I tugged on his jacket, leaning heavily. It was that or I was going to fall. "Who were those girls? You were right, most of them had been killed by vampires."

"I suspected as much."

"Do you know who did it?" I slurred. "Winston didn't. He just knew who they were and how they died."

"Don't ask me more about it, because I won't tell you, and before you even wonder, no, I had nothing to do with it."

The moonlight shining down made his skin even creamier. He was still staring off in the distance, and with his jaw clenched, he looked both fierce and very beautiful.

"You know what?" Suddenly, very inappropriately, I began to giggle. "You're pretty. You're so pretty."

Bones glanced back at me. "Bloody hell. You'll hate yourself in the morning for saying that. You must be absolutely pissed."

Another giggle. He was funny. "Not anymore."

"Right." He picked me up. The leaves made small crunching sounds under his feet as he carried me. "If you weren't half dead, what you just drank would kill you. Come on, pet. Let's get you home."

It had been a long time since I'd been in a man's arms. Sure, Bones might have carried me before when I was unconscious, but that didn't count. Now I was very aware of his hard chest against me, how effortlessly he held me, and how really good he smelled. It wasn't cologne-he never wore any. It was a clean scent that was uniquely his and it was...intoxicating.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" I heard myself ask.

Something I couldn't name flashed across his face.

"No. I don't think you're pretty. I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"Liar," I breathed. "He wouldn't have done that if I was. He wouldn't have been with her."

"Who?"

I ignored him, caught up in the memory. "Maybe he knew. Maybe on some deep, deep level, he could sense I was evil. I wish I hadn't been born this way. I wish I hadn't been born at all."

"You listen to me, Kitten," Bones cut me off. In my rant, I'd almost forgotten he was there. "I don't know who you're taking about, but you are not evil. Not one single cell of you. There is nothing wrong with you, and sod anyone who can't see that for themselves."

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My head lolled on his arm. After a minute, my depression lifted, and I began to giggle again.

"Winston liked me. As long as I have moonshine, I've always got a date with a ghost!"

"I hate to inform you, luv, but you and Winston don't have a future together."

"Says who?" I laughed, noticing that the trees were tilted sideways. That was weird. And they seemed to be spinning as well.

Bones lifted my head up. I blinked. The trees were straight again! Then all I could see was his face as he leaned very close.

"I say."

He seemed like he was spinning also. Maybe everything was spinning. It felt that way.

"I'm drunk, aren't I?"

Since I'd never been drunk before, I needed clarification.

His snort tickled my face. "Impressively so."

"Don't you dare try to bite me," I said, noticing his mouth was only a few inches from my neck.

"Don't fret. That was the furthest thing from my mind."

The truck came into view. Bones carried me to the passenger side and deposited me on the seat. I slumped, tired all of a sudden.

His door shut, and then the engine vibrated to life. I kept shifting to get comfortable, but my truck didn't have an extended cab and the interior was cramped.

"Here," Bones said after several minutes, and pulled my head down to his lap.

"Pig!" I screamed, jerking up so fast, my cheek banged on the steering wheel.

He just laughed. "Isn't your mind in the gutter? You shouldn't be so quick to label Winston a drunken pervert. Pot calling the kettle black, if you ask me. I only had the most honorable of intentions, I assure you."

I eyed his lap and the extremely uncomfortable truck door, weighing my options. Then I flopped back down and put my head on his thigh, closing my eyes.

"Wake me when we get to my house."

Chapter Five

I T WAS WEEK FIVE. I TRUDGED INTO THE ****, wishing Bones would just beat me unconscious again instead of what I knew was coming. My makeover, courtesy of a vampire.

He wasn't perched on his usual boulder. Maybe he was still sleeping. I was about ten minutes early. It didn't take as long this time to give my mother the latest in a long line of lies about where I was going. The first few weeks, I told her I'd taken a job waitressing, but with always being broke, I knew I had to get more inventive. At last I settled on telling her I'd signed up for an intensive exercise program people took to prepare for boot camp. She'd been aghast at the thought of me being exposed to the military, but I assured her that all I wanted was the training to help with my extracurricular activities. Very extracurricular activities, since killing vampires was on no college course I'd read about.

"Bones?" I called out, traveling further into the ****.

A whoosh of air came from above me. I pivoted on one leg and struck out forcefully with the other, knocking my attacker to the side. Then I ducked in time to avoid the fist that shot toward my skull, and backflipped out of range from the next lightning punch.

"Very good!" The pleased voice belonged to my undead trainer.

I relaxed. "Testing me again, Bones? Where did you come from, anyway?"

"There," he replied, pointing up.

I followed his gesture and saw a small crevice in the rock about a hundred feet up. How in the world had he gotten up there?

"Like this," he answered my unspoken question, and propelled himself straight upward as though he'd been yanked on a string.

I was openmouthed. Five weeks and he'd never done anything like that before.

"Wow. Neat trick. Something new?"

"No, luv," he said as he plummeted down with grace. "Something old, like I am. Remember, just because a vampire isn't in front of you doesn't mean he's not right on top of you."

"Got it," I murmured. Five weeks ago I would have blushed like crazy. Now I didn't even blink at the possible innuendo.

"Now, then, let's move on to our final phase. Turning you into a seductress. Probably going to be our most difficult yet."

"Gee, thanks."

We reached what was the makeshift family room, which was rather normal-looking, if you didn't count the limestone and stalagmite walls. Bones pirated electricity from a nearby power link and rerouted it cleverly into the ****. Thus he had lamps, a computer, and a television plugged in by the sofa and chairs. He even had a space heater for when he tired of the ****'s natural mid-fifties temperature. Hang a few paintings and add some decorative throw pillows, and it could be a subterranean feature in House Beautiful.

Bones grabbed his denim jacket and led me back toward the entrance of the ****.

"Come on. We're going to a salon, and I expect this will take a while."

"You can't be serious."

I looked with a mixture of revulsion and disbelief at my reflection in the full-length mirror Bones had propped up against the wall. Five hours at Hot Hair Salon had given me an exact understanding of what it was like to go through the washer and dryer. I'd been washed, waxed, plucked, snipped, blown dry, manicured, pedicured, sloughed, exfoliated, curled, primped, and then covered in shades of makeup. I hadn't even wanted to look at myself by the time Bones had returned to pick me up, and I'd refused to speak to him on the way back to the ****. Finally seeing the end result made me break my silence.

"There is no way I'm going out in public like this!"

It seemed while I was being tormented at the salon, Bones had been out shopping. I didn't ask where he got the money from, images of old folks with their necks bleeding and their wallets missing dancing in my head. There were boots, earrings, push-up bras, skirts, and something he swore to me were dresses but only looked like pieces of dresses. I was wearing one of those now, a bright green and silver number cut about four inches above my knees and way too low in the front. That, combined with my new leather boots, curled hair, and makeup, made me feel like a twenty-dollar whore.

"You look smashing." He grinned. "Can't hardly stop myself from ripping your clothes off."

"You think this is funny, don't you? This is all a big...bloody chuckle-fest to you!"

He sprang forward. "This isn't a joke, but it is a game. Winner takes all. You need every advantage you can get. If some poor undead fellow is busy looking at these"-he flipped the material of my dress outward to get a peek before I slapped his hand away-"then he won't be looking for this."

Something hard was pressed against my belly. I wrapped my hands around it and squared my shoulders.

"Is that a stake, Bones, or are you just happy with my new dress?"

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He gave me a grin that was filled with more innuendo than an hour's worth of conversation.

"In this case, it's a stake. You could always feel around for something more, though. See what comes up."

"This better be part of that dirty-talk training, or we're going to give this new stake a go."

"Now, pet, that's hardly a romantic rejoinder. Concentrate! You do look great, by the way. That bra does wonders for your cle**age."

"Slime," I spat, resisting the urge to glance down and see for myself. Later, when he wasn't looking, I'd check it out.

"Moving on, Kitten. Put the stake in your boot. You'll find there's a loop for it."

I reached down and found a leather circle inside each boot. The stake fit snugly inside, concealed yet within easy reach. I'd wondered where I was supposed to hide a weapon in this skin-tight dress.

"Put your other one away as well," he instructed me. Complying, I was now outfitted as Cat, the Vampire-Killing Slut.

"That loop was a great idea, Bones."

The compliment flowed off my tongue, and I regretted it at once. He didn't need praise. This wasn't a friendship, it was a business arrangement.

"Done it myself a time or two. Hmmm, still something not right, something missing..."

He walked in a circle around me. I held still as he scrutinized my every angle. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least.

"I've got it!" he declared suddenly, snapping his fingers in triumph. "Take your knickers off."

"What?" Did that mean what I think it did?

"Your knickers. You know-panties, underwear, muff-huggers, nasty nets-"

"Are you out of your mind?" I interrupted. "This is where I draw the line! What does my underwear have to do with anything? I am not flashing my...my crotch at someone, no matter what you say!"

He spread his hands toward me in a conciliatory way. "Look, you don't have to flash anyone anything. Believe me, a vampire will know right off without you showing him that your box is unwrapped."

Pushing the crude imagery out of my mind before I exploded, I jumped right in with both feet. "And just how's he supposed to know that? No panty lines?"

"The scent, pet," he replied instantly. That did it. My face must have been every shade of crimson. "No vamp in the world could mistake that. Like dangling bloomin' catnip in front of a kitty. Bloke gets a good whiff of-"

"Will you stop?" I fought to alleviate my intense embarrassment. "I get the picture! Stop drawing it, okay? God, but you are-are...profane!"

With anger as a buffer, I could look him in the eye again.

"I hardly see how that's necessary. You've got me dressed in these screw-me clothes, I'm all dolled up with hair and makeup, and I'm going to burn their ears off with dirty talk. If that isn't enough to get them to take me for a ride, then I think it's hopeless."

He stood very still the way vampires do, utterly motionless. It creeped me out when he did that, because it let me know how foreign our two species were. I had half of that contamination. Half of that blood flowed in my veins. His face was thoughtful-we could have been discussing the weather. The hollows and planes of his cheekbones were reflected from the overhead light. He was still the most chiseled man I'd ever seen.

"It's like this, luv," he responded at last. "You look right fetching now with your new togs, but suppose a fellow prefers blondes? Or brunettes? Or likes 'em with a little more meat on the arse? These aren't greenhorns looking for the first available artery. These are Master vampires with discriminating tastes. We might need something to tip the scales, as it were. Think of it as...advertising. Is it really that difficult for you? You know, with a vampire's natural sense of smell, it's not like he can't sniff you out in the first place. Blimey, I can tell right off when you've got your monthlies, knickers or no knickers. Some things you just-"

"All right!" Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. Don't let him see how he's traumatized you with the thought of him scenting out your period. "I get your point. Fine, I'll do it, when we go out on Friday. Not before. I'm not negotiating on this one."

"Whatever you say." He sounded amenable, but it was a lie. Everything was done his way. I only pretended to win some battles. "Now, then, let's get on to the nasty speak."

We sat at a table opposite each other. Bones held my hands despite my protest, arguing that if I flinched or twitched repeatedly, it would be a dead giveaway. Pun intended. Between my expressions and my hand movements, he had his lie detector test. For every blush and recoil I gave, it would be ten miles running through the woods with him chasing me. I was determined not to take that nature jog from hell.

"You look luscious, pet. The only thing that could make your mouth more beautiful is if it were wrapped around my ****. I wager you could start my heart again. I'd like to bend you over just to hear how loud you can scream. I bet you like it rough, you'd like me to tear into you until you can't beg anymore..."

"My, my, someone hasn't been laid in a while," I mocked, proud of myself for not running out of the room.

It wasn't just his words, or the little circles his thumb traced on my palm. His eyes were dark and heated as though lit from within, looking right into mine with a knowing stare that made every word more intimate. Filled with promise and threat. His tongue flicked out to trace the inside of his lower lip, making me wonder if he imagined doing all of the things he described. It took all of my willpower to hold his gaze.

"I'll take your br**sts inside my mouth, licking your ni**les until they turn dark red. They'll do that, luv. The more I lick and the more I nibble, the darker they'll get. Let me inform you of a secret about vampires-we direct where the blood goes in our bodies, for as long as we want it to be there. I can't wait to find out how you taste, and you won't want me to stop even after I've completely exhausted you. You'll think you were on fire, your skin will burn. I'll suck all of your juices out of you. And then I'll drink your blood."

"Huh?" Understanding dawned about the sequence of the last two lines, and with it came a sudden mental image of him doing that to me.

A flush scorched across my cheeks in the next instant. Mortified, I snatched my hands away and stood so abruptly the chair fell over.

Taunting laughter followed me.

"Oh, Kitten, you were doing so well! Guess you just couldn't pass up a nice stroll in the woods. Beautiful night for it, I smell a storm coming. And you wonder why I had you pegged as an innocent. I've met nuns who were more promiscuous. I knew it would be the oral stuff that did you in, I would have bet my life on it."

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"You don't have a life, you're dead."

I was trying to remind myself of that. Listening to his explicit detailing of everything he could do to me-not that I would ever let him, of course!-had made that a hard point to remember. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the images dancing in it.

"That's a matter of opinion. In fact, if you judge by senses and reflexes, I'm as alive as any human, just with a few more upgrades."

"Upgrades? You're not a computer. You're a killer."

He rocked back on the two legs of his chair, easily balanced. He wore a charcoal-gray pullover that hugged his shoulders and skimmed his collarbone. Black pants were nearly a staple with him; I wondered if he owned any other color. The dark colors only accented his light hair and pale skin, making them even more incandescent. This was no accident, I knew. Everything was deliberate with Bones. With those incredible cheekbones and his ripped physique, he was stunning. And dangerous, yet somewhere along the line I'd lost most of my fear of him.

"You're a killer, too, luv, or did you forget that? You know, those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, and all that rot. Really, Kitten, why so shy on our former topic? Didn't that sodding chap who shagged you kiss you everywhere first? Don't tell me the wretch neglected foreplay."

"Not unless you count him taking his clothes off as foreplay." Goddamn Bones, and damn Danny Milton as well. Maybe one day I could look back and not feel a sting. "Can we not talk about that? It hardly puts me in the proper mood."

Something cold flashed across his face, but his voice was light. "Don't fret over him, pet. If I meet him, I'll snap him in half for you. No, we won't speak of him any longer. Ready to go back to the table now? Or do you need a few more minutes to cool off?"

There was that insinuating tone again, making simple words sound graphic.

"I'm ready. I just wasn't prepared before." I sat back at the table and slid my hands into his waiting grip. "Go on. Give it your best shot."

He grinned with a slow ***y twist of his lips and the fire leapt back into his eyes.

"Love to give it my best shot. Let me tell you just how I'd do it..."

Two hours later, my ears were burned to twin crisps, and I owed him forty miles. Bones was in high spirits. Why wouldn't he be? He had just hypothetically f**ked me into incomprehension. Tartly I asked him if he wanted a cigarette when he was finished, and he informed me with a laugh that he'd quit smoking. Heard it wasn't good for his health. God, the man amused himself with his own jokes.

I used one of the ****'s small enclosed areas as a changing room to strip out of the harlot's dress and put on my jogging clothes. Bones always collected on his bets, never mind that there was now a thunderstorm out. We were going for our little tortuous run in the woods. With my hair rolled into a bun to avoid it lashing me in the face, I squeezed out from behind the rocks to find him waiting for me. He gave me a once-over, and that ****y twist returned to his lips.

"There's the Kitten I know and love. Felt like you'd been away for a while, with how different you looked. Ready for a romp in the rain?"

"Let's get this over with. It's nearly nine o'clock and I'd like to get home. After this evening, I feel like I have to wash."

"Well, luv"-we had reached the mouth of the ****, and the rain came down in torrents-"I aim to please. One shower, coming right up."

The run was brutal, as expected. He even had the nerve to laugh behind me the whole way. When I climbed into my truck, I was soaking wet and exhausted. It was an hour-and-a-half round trip every day I went to the ****, and the truck was a gas guzzler. Bones was going to have to start contributing to my travel expenses, because I wasn't going to use more of my college money on gas.

The lights were out at the house when I pulled in, and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. I took my shoes off and headed straight for the bathroom. Once inside, I removed all of my clothes and ran a hot bath.

As I sank into the water, I closed my eyes. Everything ached from the run. For a few moments I just sat, allowing myself to relax. The steam from the water caused moisture on my upper lip and I wiped it away, startled when the brush of my fingers caused an unexpected tightening in my belly.

I tried it again, never having done this before and imagining my fingers were not my own. Gooseflesh broke out on my body and in a completely surprising reaction, my ni**les hardened.

I cupped my br**sts next, gasping at the increased sensation. The water felt like it caressed me as well now, in the most intimate of places. I skimmed the outsides of my thighs, amazed at the ripples of enjoyment that followed. Then I ran a hand along the inside of my thigh, stopped guiltily for a moment, and reached lower.

A soft moan escaped. With my eyes closed, open mouth breathing in warm humid air, I let my fingers move a little faster, a little faster...

...feel your tight wet box wrapped around me, pulling me deeper inside you...

Bones's words stole through my mind and I snatched my hand away as though burned. "Oh, ****!"

I jumped out of the tub, slipped on the wet tile, and fell with a crash to the floor.

"Sonofabitch!" I shouted. Great, that was going to leave a mark. There'd be a bruise the size of my stupi***y.

"Catherine, what happened?"

My mother was outside the bathroom door. The thump or my shout must have woken her.

"It's okay, Mom, I just slipped. I'm fine."

I dried off with a towel while lashing myself under my breath.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, thinking about a vampire. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you?"

"Who are you talking to?" Apparently my mother was still outside the door.

"No one." No one intelligent, that's for sure. "Go back to bed."

After changing into a pair of pajamas, I carried my dirty clothes downstairs and put them in the washing machine, reminding myself to start a load in the morning. When I went into the room I shared with my mother, I found her sitting up in her bed.

That was different. She was usually asleep by nine every night.

"Catherine, we have to talk."

She couldn't have picked a worse time, but I stifled a yawn and asked her what she wanted to talk about.

"Your future, of course. I know you waited two years to start college so you could help out after Grandpa Joe had his heart attack, and you've been saving for another two years so you can transfer to Ohio State University from the community college here. But soon you'll be leaving. Living on your own, and I'm worried about you."

"Mom, don't worry, I'll be careful-"

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"You can't forget you have a monster inside you," she interrupted me.

My mouth tightened. God, she'd picked a great time to go into this! You have a monster inside you, Catherine. Those were the opening words she'd used when I was sixteen to tell me what I was.

"I've been scared for you since I found out I was pregnant," she went on. The lights were off, but I didn't need them to see the tension in her face. "From the day you were born, you looked just like your father. Then each day after that, I watched your abnormalities grow as you did. Soon you'll leave, and I won't be there to watch over you anymore. You'll have only yourself to make sure you don't become like the monster who sired you. You can't let that happen. Finish school, get your degree. Move out of town, make some friends, it'll be good for you. Just be careful. Don't ever forget you're not like everyone else. They don't have evil in them trying to break out like you do."

For the first time in my life, I wanted to argue with her. To tell her that maybe there wasn't any evil in me. That my father could have been bad before he turned into a vampire, and my unusualness made me different, but not half evil.

Even as the denial sprang to my lips, however, I choked it back. It hadn't escaped my notice that our relationship had dramatically improved since I started killing vampires. She loved me, I knew, but before that, I'd always felt like a small part of her also resented me for both the circumstances of my birth and the repercussions of it.

"I won't forget, Mom," was all I said. "I won't forget, I swear to you."

Her features softened. Seeing that made me glad I hadn't argued. There was no need to upset her. This was a woman who'd raised the child of her ra**st, and in this small town, she'd been alienated just for having a baby out of wedlock. No one even knew the horrible truth behind her pregnancy. As rough as that was, to top it off, I had hardly been a normal child. She didn't need me lecturing her on right and wrong.

"In fact," I went on, "I'm going out Friday to hunt again. I'll probably be home late. I-I have a good feeling I'll find one."

Yeah. Did I ever.

She smiled. "You're doing the right thing, baby."

I nodded, swallowing back the guilt. If she found out about Bones, she'd never forgive me. She wouldn't understand how I could have partnered with a vampire, no matter the reason.

"I know."

She lay down in her bed. I got in mine as well and tried to fall asleep. But fears of my changing perspective and who was responsible for it kept me awake.

Chapter Six

F RIDAY FINALLY ARRIVED. FOR THE PAST FIVE days, I experimented with makeup and different hairstyles to turn myself into more appetizing bait. The goody bag from Hot Hair Salon had been filled with cosmetics, gels, hair spray, hair clips, nail polish, you name it. Bones also bought me curling irons and hot rollers. After dolling myself up, I would spar with him in full slut gear, preparing myself to fight in a short dress.

Now Bones waited for me by the entrance of the ****, a rarity. From the looks of him, he was already dressed for the evening. Black long-sleeved shirt, black pants, black boots. With his light skin and hair, he looked like an archangel dipped in coal.

"Now, you're clear on all the details, right? You won't see me, but I'll be watching you. When you leave with him, I'm going to follow you. Anywhere outside is fine, but do not, I repeat, do not let him take you inside any buildings or houses. If he tries to force you inside one, what do you do?"

"Bones, for God's sake, we've been over this a thousand times."

"What do you do?" He wasn't about to give up.

"Hit the pager in the watch, Mr. Bond, James Bond. You'll come running. Dinner for two."

He grinned, squeezing my shoulder. "Kitten, you have me pegged all wrong. If I go for your neck, I have no intention of sharing."

Although I would never admit it, having a small safety net like that made me feel better. The watch was rigged with a tiny pager that would only send a series of beeps to Bones, but if it went off, it meant my ass was in jeopardy.

"Are you ever going to tell me about who I'm after? Or do I find out later if I've staked the wrong guy? You've been pretty secretive about the whole identity thing. Afraid I'd rat you out?"

That previous smile was wiped from his face, replaced by an expression of complete seriousness.

"It was better for you not to know beforehand, pet. That way no accidental slips. Word can't get out if word isn't spoken, right?"

He followed me to the partially enclosed space where he kept my slutty clothes and accessories. It was amazing how many places a **** held. As near as I could figure, this one was half a mile long. I went inside the makeshift dressing room and put the privacy screen in place with a pointed look. Changing clothes in front of him was not going to happen. The screen didn't impair conversation, however, so I answered him as my clothes came off.

"It amuses me to think of you worrying about my Freudian slips. Maybe you didn't hear me the other times I told you, but I don't have any friends. The only other person I talk to is my mother, and she's being kept far out of this loop."

As soon as the words left my mouth, a hollow feeling grew in my chest. It was true, too true. As twisted as it was, Bones was the closest thing to a friend I'd ever had. He might be using me, but at least he was up front about it. Not sneaky and deceitful like Danny had been.

"All right, luv. His name is Sergio, though he might well give you another one. He's about six-one, black hair, gray eyes, typical vampire skin. Italian is his first language, but he's fluent in three others as well, so his English has an accent. He's not very beefy. In fact, he may even look soft to you, but don't let it fool you. He's almost three hundred years old and more powerful than you can imagine. Also, he's a sadist, likes 'em young, real young. Tell him you're underage and that you snuck in with a fake ID, it'll only switch him on more. You also can't kill him straightaway, because I need some information from him first. That's everything. Oh, and he's worth fifty thousand dollars."

Fifty thousand dollars. The words echoed through my mind. And to think I'd been prepared to argue with Bones over pocket change! The words kept resounding, and with them an important detail that had never been revealed before.

"Money. So that's why you hunt vampires. You're a hit man!"

I was so amazed by this new information, I opened the screen while only wearing my bra and panties.

He cast a leisurely look down the length of me before meeting my eyes.

"Yeah, that's right. It's what I do. But don't fret. You could also say I'm a bounty hunter. Sometimes my clients want 'em back alive."

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"Wow. I just thought we were going after people who had pissed you off."

"And that was enough for you to kill for, someone who might have looked at me cross-eyed? Blimey, but you're not particular. What if I were chasing some nice sweet thing that'd never hurt a fly? Still be all right with it then?"

I snapped the screen shut and found my mother's words coming out of my mouth.

"None of you are nice sweet things. You're all murderers. That's why it didn't matter. Point me at a vampire and I'll try to kill it, because at one time they've done something to deserve it."

It was so silent outside the screen, I wondered if he'd left. When I peeked, he was still standing where he'd been before. A flicker of emotion passed over his face before it became blank again. Suddenly uncomfortable, I retreated back inside to don my revealing costume.

"Not every vampire is like the ones who killed those girls Winston told you about. It's just your bad luck to be living in Ohio at this particular time. There are things going on you don't know about."

"Winston was wrong, by the way," I said smugly. "I looked up those girls' names the next day, and none of them were dead. They weren't even missing. One of them, Suzy Klinger, lived in the town next to mine, but her parents said she moved away to study acting. What I don't know is why Winston would make that up, but far be it for me to understand the mental workings of a ghost."

"Bloody hell!" Bones almost shouted. "Who did you talk to, aside from Suzy Klinger's parents? The police? Other families?"

I didn't know why he was so worked up. It's not like there had been multiple homicides, after all. "No one. I entered their names online at the library's computer and when nothing came up, I looked in a few local papers and then called Suzy's parents saying I was a telemarketer. That was it."

Some of the tension drained out of him. At least he wasn't clenching his fists anymore.

"Don't go against what I tell you to do again," he said in a very calm tone.

"What did you expect? For me to forget about over a dozen girls being murdered by vampires because you told me to? See, this is just what I'm talking about! A human wouldn't act like that. Only a vampire could be that cold."

Bones folded his arms. "Vampires have existed for millennia, and though we have our villains among us, the majority of us just have a sip here and there, but everybody walks away. Besides, it's not like your kind hasn't made its mark for ill on the world. Hitler wasn't a vampire, was he? Too bloody right. Humans can be just as nasty as we are, and don't you forget it."

"Oh, come on, Bones!" Dressed now, I pulled back the screen and started fixing hot rollers into my hair. "Don't give me that crap. Are you telling me you've never murdered someone innocent? Never drank the life out of someone when you were hungry? Never forced a woman who said no? Hell, the only reason you didn't kill me the night we met was because you saw my eyes glow, so sell that smack to someone who's buying!"

His hand flashed out. I braced myself, but all he did was catch a falling curler. Without blinking, he rolled it back into my hair.

"Think I'd strike you? You really don't know as much as you claim to. Aside from teaching you how to fight, I'd never lay a harsh hand on you. As for the night we met, you did your level best to kill me. I thought you were sent by someone, so I smacked you and threatened you, but I wasn't going to kill you. No, I would have sipped from your neck and green-eyed you until you told me who they were. Then I would have sent you back to the **** with your limbs broken as a warning, but I promise you this-at no point would I have forced myself on you. Sorry, Kitten. Every woman I've been with has wanted me to be there. Have I killed any innocents in my time? Yeah, I have. When you've lived as long as I have, you make mistakes. You try to learn from them. And you shouldn't be so quick to judge me on that. No doubt you've killed innocents as well."

"The only people I've killed were vampires who tried to kill me first," I said, rattled by his nearness.

"Oh?" Softly. "Don't be so sure. Those blokes you killed, did you wait for them to try to bite you first? Or did you just assume because they were vampires and they'd gotten you alone, they intended to murder you? Ignoring the very real likelihood that they were there because they'd thought a beautiful girl was hot to shag them. Tell me-how many of them did you kill before they'd even shown you their fangs?"

My mouth dropped even as immediate denial echoed in my brain. No. No. They'd all been trying to kill me. They had. Hadn't they...?

"Whether they showed their fangs or not doesn't change the fact that vampires are evil, and that's enough for me."

"Bloody mule-headed woman," he muttered. "Then if all vampires are the filth you claim them to be, why wouldn't I just pry your legs open now and take out some of my evil on you?"

He was too strong for me to stop him, if he decided on that course of action. I glanced at my stakes, but they were too far away on the floor.

Bones saw me looking and a sardonic snort escaped him.

"You never have to fret about it. Told you, I don't come in unless invited. Now hurry up. You have another murderous fiend to kill."

He was gone in a whoosh of air that left me trembling. Great, I'd offended my backup. Smart. Real smart.

We drove separately to avoid being seen together. In fact, I didn't see him at all after our little spat at the dressing table. He'd left me a note telling me he'd be watching and to proceed with the plan. On my way to the club, I was inexplicably upset by what had happened. After all, what I'd said was right, wasn't it? Okay, maybe every vampire I'd killed hadn't been going for my throat, true. Some of them had been pretty focused on my cle**age, in fact. But they would have tried to kill me, wouldn't they? Bones might act different, but all vampires were bad.

Weren't they?

The music greeted me with its loud pumping beat. Same vibrations, different songs. According to Bones, Sergio would probably put in an appearance in about an hour. I seated myself at the bar, making sure I had a clear view of the doorway, and ordered a gin and tonic. Aside from that half gallon of moonshine, alcohol seemed to make me calmer instead of inebriated. Bones said it was due to my bloodline. He should know-he could knock back bottles of whiskey without even a twitch. On the plus side, it added to the helpless female image to look drunk.

It had been a while since my last gin and tonic, so I promptly had it refilled by the attentive bartender when I was done. His eyes had been undressing what little clothing I was wearing since I'd walked in. Good to know Bones knew what he was about when it came to picking bait apparel. We'd see if it worked as well with the monsters.