• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Tonight? I was hoping that you might come earlier.”

“We can’t transport Damian in full daylight, his body might be fine, but I don’t think his sanity would be. Besides, I’ve got to work this afternoon.”

“Always the work, no matter what else is happening around you.”

“Look, Jean-Claude, you’ve never seen what happens around me when I’ve gone too long between zombie raisings. Let’s just say that I don’t want a line of roadkill trailing after me, or worse yet, some ‘accidental’ zombie come shambling into my room.”

“Are you saying that unused, your power raises the dead even if you do not wish to?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d told you that.”

“You have told me of raising the dead by accident when you were a child. I assumed that was merely from lack of training and disipline.”

“No,” I said, “it took me years to admit it, but no. If I don’t raise the dead on purpose, then it happens accidentally, or I start getting followed around by ghosts, or the spirits of the newly dead. I hate that last one, they always want me to take messages to their nearest and dearest, and it’s always stupid messages. I’m fine, I’m happy, don’t worry about me. What kind of message is that to knock on someone’s door with? I’m this complete stranger, but your dead son told me to hunt you down and say he’s fine. Nothing else, nothing urgent, just, I’m fine, don’t worry.” I shook my head. It had been years since I’d thought about that. “I raise zombies, and the dead leave me alone.”

“Do they? Do they really, ma petite?” There was an edge of humor, but it held darker things.

“You aren’t dead, Jean-Claude. I’ve seen dead, and whatever you guys are when you’re up and running, dead isn’t it.”

“There was a time when you did not believe that. I believe you once called me a handsome corpse.”

“Look, I was young, and I didn’t know any better.”

“Are you certain at last, ma petite, that I am not just a ‘cute dead guy’?” Again he was quoting me.

“Yeah, I’m certain.”

He laughed then, that touchable, raise-goosebumps-all-over-your-body sound. “I am glad of that. Do you speak Italian, ma petite?”

“No, why?”

“Nothing,” he said, “I will see you tonight then, ma petite, you and your new friends.”

I started to say they weren’t new friends, but he’d already hung up. I realized as I hung up, I should have lied about speaking Italian, but hell, as good as I’d gotten at lying, my first reaction was still to tell the truth. I guess you can’t undo all your upbringing, no matter how hard you try.

24

WE SENT GREGORY in his kitty-cat fur down to watch Damian. Gregory was about the only one in the house not tied to me metaphysically. Well, okay, Fredo and Dr. Lillian, but Fredo wouldn’t leave her alone, and Dr. Lillian said she wasn’t finished with Richard’s arm. So process of elimination made it Gregory’s job.

He informed me as he glided toward the basement, with his spotted tail swishing behind a very human-looking backside, “I’m supposed to be on stage tonight at Guilty Pleasures. I can’t go on like this. Jean-Claude will need to find a sub.” He gave that kitty-cat grin of bared teeth and vanished around the corner.

“What does he mean, he’s supposed to be on stage?” Clair asked.

“He’s a stripper at Guilty Pleasures,” I said.

She made a little O with her mouth. I wasn’t sure why, unless her world was so protected that just being in the car with a stripper was a big deal. For her sanity’s sake, I hoped her world was bigger than that.

“But, I don’t understand, why can’t he”—she made a waffling motion with her hands—“perform tonight?”

Richard saved me the lecture. “Remember that once in animal form you have to stay that way for six to eight hours.”

“I thought that was just because I was new.”

Richard shook his head, winced as if it hurt, and said, “No, most shapeshifters spend their lives tied to a cycle of six to eight hours in animal form, then two to four hours of being passed out once they shift back to human form.”

“Sit down,” Dr. Lillian said, and her voice indicated she expected to be obeyed.

He eased himself into the same chair he’d