Undead and Unemployed (Undead #2)

Undead and Unemployed (Undead #2) Page 14

From the private papers of Father Markus, Parish Priest, St. Pious Church, 129 E. 7th Street, Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Killing the Evil Ones is not as satisfying as I had assumed it would be. And I can hardly believe I am thinking such a thing, much less writing it down. When I am long dead, these papers will belong to the Holy Church. What will they think of me, and however will I explain myself to my Heavenly Father?

At first, I thought God was acting through our employer. I am beginning to wonder if that was the devil, speaking to me in the voice of my pride. Because many things I have long believed may not be true. And if that is the case, what will become of me? What will become of the children? They say all things work toward God's will... perhaps even the Undead do, as well.

The money, the equipment, the skills of the Blade Warriors... every vampire the children found was dispatched. I assumed we were doing great good. We are commanded not to kill, but are these things not already dead? I thought God was acting through me, through the children, but now...

It started to go bad when the two females escaped. Both were beautiful, looked young, and had the strength of ten tigers. Although we inflicted great damage on the smaller, dark one, she eluded us in the end. It was the first time we had been unable to do our duty, and it weighed heavily on the boys. Ani was more sanguine, but even she couldn't hide her distress.

Then there was the vampire in the parking garage.

Except was she?

Our employer had never been wrong. But this woman-she did not hiss and snarl when cornered, she did not try to bite. She seemed puzzled, and annoyed, and although she moved with the grace of a jungle cat she did not try any tricks of the dead-the hypnosis, the mind-bending, the seduction. Instead, she yelled at Jon and mocked the rest of us. She made us feel foolish and worse, we feared we were foolish. And after taunting us, instead of engaging, she fled. And we learned something more-heights are a vampire's friend.

Ani found the purse in the woman's-the vampire's-car. And that was another thing. This vampire had a car, a job, and a life. She was carrying full identification, right down to her library card.

Vampires, going to the library.

The name was right-Elizabeth Taylor-but nothing else fit with what we knew of the Undead.

We could all feel doubts start to creep in. In our business, that is fatal.

Jon proposed a simple yet daring plan. And so it was that the next evening, we found ourselves on Summit Avenue, in the state's capitol.

To our great surprise, the front door was unlocked. There were several cars in the driveway, and when we stepped inside we could see a cook hurrying through the entryway with bags of groceries. She gave us a single, disinterested glance and disappeared through an archway. We heard a car start outside and Wild Bill went to check. When he returned, he informed us the gardener had just left.

"Weird" was Ani's comment. She was a philosophy major at the University, and we had deep respect for her mind. "The vampire's driving a beat-up Ford, but she lives here? And what are all these people doing here? Do they know? And if they do, are they with her? Or prisoners? There aren't any marks on them, and they don't look like they've been snacked on..."

Before we could answer-and troubling questions they were-a lovely young African American woman came hurrying down the steps, and behind her was, of all things, a physician! He was a sharp-looking young man with dark hair, wearing light green scrubs and looking quite surprised to see us.

"Oh, great," the woman said. She was thin to the point of emaciation, but lovely just the same. Her ebony skin had reddish undertones, and her cheekbones made her look almost regal. Her eyes flashed dark fire as she hurried toward us. And, oddest of all, she seemed familiar to me. "Don't tell me, let me guess. The Blade Warriors. I have a huge bone to pick with you."

"That was our friend you ganged up on," the doctor added. He was right on her heels as they rapidly approached.

This was a bit nerve-wracking. We were quite helpless around humans-we certainly wouldn't kill them! But we had never met a vampire with human friends before.

And where had I seen the woman?

"Maybe they're pets," Ani muttered behind me.

"Maybe you're trespassing," the woman replied coldly. "You assholes are on private property. Mine. So get the hell out, unless you're here to apologize to my friend. In which case, you can still get the hell out, because we don't want to hear it."

"The door was unlocked," Jon pointed out.

"So it's not breaking and entering," the doctor said, grinning. "It's just entering."

His little joke caused most of us to relax a bit, but the young woman remained unmoved. "You guys get out of here," she said with clear warning in her voice. "I'm going to count to three. Then I'm loading the shotgun. Then I'm filling the waterguns with bleach. Then I'm releasing the hounds. Then-"

"Jessica Watkins?" I asked, utterly surprised.

She blinked at me, just as surprised. "Yeah. So?"

"I'm Father Markus. You donated half a million dollars to my church." At last, at last I had placed her! I hadn't recognized her in faded jeans and a Gap T-shirt, because I usually saw the lady at fundraisers, when she was dressed in formal attire. "This is a surprise. It's good to see you."

Taken aback, she let me shake her hand. "Uh, yeah. Good-good to see you, too. Um. What are you doing with these idiots?"

"These are my children," I corrected her firmly.

She leered. "Oh, you're one of those priests, eh?"

Although the Church's reputation had suffered grievously the last few years, I did not rise to the bait. "I take care of them," I explained patiently, "and they look after me in my old age. We do God's work."

"Not today, Father! Betsy never did a single thing to any one of you. Leave her alone!"

"We're here to solve a mystery," I said. "We're not quite sure your... your friend is... is who we think she is."

"So you come to my house at night, bristling with weapons? I'm surprised you didn't show up at noon like true cowards," she said, her imperious voice dripping with scorn. She was her father's daughter, all right. The man had been known to make other CEOs cry just before taking over their companies.

"We would never," I said, offended. "Even the undead deserve to be dealt with honorably."

"Outnumbered five to one and cornered and staked to death? Father Markus, I never dreamed you were such an asshole."

How that stung! I was a good man, a good priest. I helped hunt the Undead. I saved lives. I was not an asshole.

As was her wont, Ani stepped in when she felt someone was being disrespectful. "Don't talk to Father Markus like that," she said in warning. She was a tall woman-easily my height-with jet-black hair cut just below her ears, and lovely, tip-tilted almond-shaped eyes. Her mother had been Japanese; she had never known her father, but from her build and coloring, we guessed he was Northern European. Her limbs were long and slender, and she was one of the fastest runners I had ever seen. She had been considering the Olympics when we found her. "Not unless you want to eat teeth."

"Ani," I murmured.

"Going to stake regular people next, you bimbo?" Jessica snapped. "You come into my house hunting my friend, you don't even knock, you bring guns and knives into my home, and now you're threatening me? Girlfriend, you should have kept your ass in bed today."

The children were shifting uneasily, and I couldn't blame them. Hunting the Undead was one thing. Arousing the ire of the city's-the state's!-wealthiest citizen was quite another. Even without her money, Jessica Watkins would have been formidable. As I said, she was her father's daughter.

"Look, let's make a deal," the doctor said, neatly breaching the awkward silence. "Father, why don't you go upstairs to Betsy's room-"

"Betsy?" I repeated.

"-and toss some of your holy water on her. That should do the trick, right?"

"Marc," Jessica began, but he shook his head at her.

"Well." I coughed. "It will likely burn her severely. It could even kill her. Or blind her. Your friend."

"It's a risk we're willing to take," the doctor said cheerfully.

"We're going with him," Jon said.

"Fine, but the toys stay down here. Just holy water. Ought to be enough for big-shit vampire killers like you guys, right?"

His words were rude, but he was still grinning at us in a friendly way. I tried to find the trap, but I couldn't see it. "Right."

"So, then. Go on up. We'll wait." He looked disturbingly cheerful, but, as I said, I couldn't see the problem.

The children dutifully unholstered guns and unsheathed knives. There was quite a pile on the lovely cherry table when they finished unloading. As for myself, my cross and holy water had always been all I needed. The Undead always went after one of the children; they tended to steer clear of me.

"Right, then." I took a deep breath. "Let's go. But first..." The children dropped their heads obediently, and I closed my eyes. "O Heavenly Father, please guide my hand and keep our family safe. In Your name, Amen."

"Amen," they echoed. Interestingly, the doctor and Jessica also said Amen.

"Third floor," he said helpfully. "Fifth door on the left. Watch the seventh step, it squeaks."

I couldn't help but stare at him, and knew my bewilderment must have shown on my face. Odder and odder. But we had our duty, and even had permission to finish it.

I pulled the cork from the bottle of holy water and led the way upstairs.