Undead and Unworthy (Undead #7)

Undead and Unworthy (Undead #7) Page 22

The next evening started off nice and quiet. Marc wasn't around, of course, Garrett was probably still cowering in the basement, and I didn't look too hard for Jessica.

Almost as soon as I'd gotten up, Tina and Sinclair had left for the library. This made sense, as the former librarian, Marjorie, had kept extensive files on every vampire she knew of, heard of, or could track down.

Information, as far as the late, unmourned Marjorie believed, had been power.

They had politely asked if I wanted to come, pretending I'd actually be of use to a couple of near geniuses trapped in a warehouse disguised as a library. They probably thought hours of research on computers and - and whatever you did research on would be a good time, poor morons. Of course I'd said no.

But even if I'd lost all my cool points and was a hopeless, helpless virgin weirdo geek who wanted to spend half the night in a vampire library, I couldn't.

I, after all, had serious work to do for the Minneapolis Police Department. Make that Homicide Department. Yeah, that's right, we vampire queens are in constant demand all over the place for -

"Are you actually going to get in my car?" Nick Berry demanded, shaking his keys at me. "Or just keep staring off into space like that? Because it is fuckin' creepy, Betsy, you look like the Exlax is about to kick in."

"Huh? Oh. That was mean. And I'm coming, don't nag."

"I'm a grown man," he forced out through gritted teeth, "and we don't nag."

"You were! You were nagging!"

"Betsy, I swear to God, if you don't shut your fucking yap and get in the car, I'm going to pull out my gun and blow your - "

"Ha! You said 'blow.' "

The gun had cleared the holster. Hmm, Nick was a short-tempered fellow these days. "I'm gonna count to 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."