ten. One. Seven. Nine. T – ”
“Hold it right there!”
We both jumped like we'd been caught doing something nasty, and looked. Jessica the Terrible was stomping down the porch and across the driveway toward us.
Quick as thought, Mr. Gun was back in his house, Mr. Holster.
“Hi, babe, I thought you were sleeping.”
“Oh, Jess. I didn't know you were up.”
“Well?” She stopped, slightly out of breath. She must have sprinted when she figured out Nick was here. “Which is it? I'm in bed asleep because I have a human boyfriend, or I'm wide awake because my best friend is a vampire?”
“Uh – ”
“You're so great,” Nick said warmly. “It's both.”
Man, I could never pull that off.
“You sneaky lying sack of shit.”
Apparently Nick couldn't, either.
“You're sneaking off with him to – well, I don't know what, but I don't like it. And you!” She rounded on Nick, jabbing with the dreaded index finger (which was now painted eggplant). “I know damn well you don't like being alone with Betsy anymore. So what are you up to?”
He didn't tell her?
“You didn't tell her?” I tried to hide my delight at Nick's look of consternation... and the fact that it bummed me out, hearing Nick was scared to be alone with me. At least I wasn't the only one who was scared to death of Pissed Off Jessica – hell, he was armed, and he looked ready to sidle around the corner and hide. “That's awful. Why wouldn't you tell her?”
“Because she'll jump to the conclusion that I'm trying to get you killed,” he snapped.
“Yeah, she's funny that way.”
“What? Get killed? Why might you get killed? Betsy, you can't go off doing something dangerous with Nick, when those disgusting Fiends could be back any minute and try to finish what – ” Then she shut her mouth with a snap.
Nick and I looked at each other, then at Jessica. I felt sorry for her. She really did try to keep Nick out of the vampire stuff, telling him only what she absolutely thought he needed to know.
And of course, she didn't get into the gory details of Nick's terror and hatred of me, just made the occasional reference to it. She was a good dancer. And it was too bad she had to dance at all. I mean, more than the normal amount any best friend does when balancing a lifelong friendship with a new love affair.
“Why don't we get in the car,” I suggested, “and Jess goes back in the house, and the three of us pretend the last forty-?five seconds never happened.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
Nick started up his SedanMobile as I waved to Jess, who was back on the porch and anxiously waving back.
“Betsy! Let's go!”
“Your car,” I told him, gingerly climbing into the front seat, “smells like ass.”
Chapter 23
“Man, that was bad. We coulda handled that one better. A lot better.”
“What are you talking about, 'we'? I'm not the one who completely screwed that one up. Hey, Jess gets full disclosure from me, pal.”
“Oh fucking bullshit,” he snapped, almost running down a squirrel. He turned onto Grand Avenue, where he'd have better luck with hapless pedestrians. “You told me yourself after that – after that business around your wedding that you kept her out of the vampire stuff.”
“After I cured her terminal illness, you mean? Is that what you're referring to?” My voice was so sugary it would have given a diabetic an instant attack. I normally wouldn't bring it up, especially since I had no idea how I'd done it, but hey, Nick was bigger than me, and smarter. And armed. And he hated me. “Sure, Sinclair and I keep her out of it – keep her out in the sense of actually, physically keeping her out of it. But I still tell her everything.”
“Nnmph,” he grunted. Then, “Put on your seat belt.”
“Please. Would you really give a gold-?plated crap if I was launched screaming through your windshield?”
“State law.”
Oh. Right. I, the Minnesota law-?abiding vampire queen, obediently buckled up.
“She's got enough to worry about,” he finally (lamely) said.
“You big liar! You're using me to ramp your solve rate, and I might get hideously mangled or killed. That's what you don't want her to 'worry' about.”
“Ramp my solve rate?” He slid over two streets and merged onto I-94. “Betsy, stop watching NYPD Blue reruns.”
“I don't! On purpose.”
He groaned. “Please don't explain that.”
“But Marc has a big crush on Sipowicz, and he's always hoping to see the man's butt again, and I can't help it if every time I go into the TV room or his room or one of the parlors, he's playing the DVDs.”
“Well, if you're so damn sure I'm up to no good, how come you're here?”
“You know why.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Stop it.”
“C'mon, I'm serious.”
I stared at him. He stared back with his blank cop's face. Truth? Lie? Somewhere in between? I bet he could take a polygraph and never, what was the cop phrase? Never bounce a needle.
“I'm here to prove to you that I'm no danger to you, that we could be friends if you didn't shrivel with horror at the thought, that vampires can be good guys, too.” I said it all in a rush, and it came out sounding like my drunken Marilyn Monroe impersonation.
“Yeah, you're going to have to slow that one down and run it by me again.”
“I'm. Here. To. Prove. That. I'm. No. Danger. And. We. Can. Be. Friends. If. You. Didn't. Shrivel.”
“That's okay, I think I can piece together the rest. Trouble is, blondie, why should I ever believe anything you tell me, ever again?”
“Oh, jeez!” I threw my hands up in the air. “How long are you going to hold that one thing against us? I've told you and told you, I was a new vampire and didn't know the rules!”
“Yeah, so you fucking mind-?raped me.”
I noticed that, like me, he tended to swear more when he was nervous or mad.
“Anything sounds bad when you say it like that,” I conceded sulkily, staring out the passenger window.
He made a sound that might have been a snort, or a muffled laugh. When I looked, he had his cop face back on.
“So where are we going?”
“What a tactful, yet subtle way to change the subject.”
“Fine. Don't tell me. Keep being the biggest, most gigantickest asshole – ”
“Gigantickest?” he said, delighted. “Are you using word-?a-?day toilet paper again? Okay, okay, don't pout. And don't enlighten me about vampire toilet habits, I don't think I could stand it. I've managed to run down a couple of leads and thought I'd bring my favorite dead enforcer with me to see what's what.”
“I thought you said your vigilante killer was a cop? Or cops, plural?”
