She glared, saying something to her companion. They both gave him the stink eye, but kept going.
“He can’t look like himself,” Daniella said. “It would have been worse than stink eye.”
“My thoughts, exactly,” I said, leaning out of the window to look behind me.
A car came up behind us, honking.
“Go around!” Deirdre shouted. They drove around, the woman in the passenger seat glaring, and the man saying something that I couldn’t hear.
“Get this guy in the back,” I muttered. “We’re already attracting too much attention.”
“You have chicken?” Daniella asked.
I handed her the bag I’d brought with me. That’s Rule Number One with zombies—never go anywhere without food for them. You never know when you’re going to need it.
“Let’s see if we can move him along,” Zane said. He walked across the street to where the zombie had stopped.
Yeah, at this pace, if we left him to his own devices, he’d never make it there. At least not in this century.
As I watched in the rear view mirror, Zane put his arm along the zombie’s back, and pushed. The zombie stumbled, but didn’t fall.
A car turned onto Shine, braking to a halt because Zane and the zombie were in the middle of the road.
“What’s the problem?” a man yelled out the window.
“Too much to drink,” Zane called back, shaking his head. “Sorry, man.”
The man in the car pulled his head back in, waving and smiling.
It was weird how much you could pass off as drunkeness.
As the two of them got close to the truck, Deirdre and Daniella walked to the back and opened the tailgate. Daniella threw a chicken breast in the back.
The zombie hesitated, and then crawled in. It was the slowest, most painful thing I’d been involved in in ages.
Deirdre slammed the tailgate shut as Daniella came back to my window. “Get out of here,” she said. “Too many people have seen us already.”
“You all coming?”
She shook her head. “Take Zane. We need to be in the shop so it looks like any other day. We’ll just tell people you have drunken louts for friends.”
“Great,” I said.
Zane got in the passenger side, and we took off.
“Keep an eye on him,” I said.
Zane watched the zombie as I turned onto the CanAm.
“Where do you want to let him off?” he asked.
“A little further down.” I didn’t want to be too close to the trailhead that was right off the highway. We had a popular trail that ran between here and a couple of towns south along an old railroad track. No need to scare the hikers.
When we were a short distance from the hotel parking lot where Zane and I had grabbed the zombie last week, I pulled off the road along a large section of shoulder. “Let’s let him go here.”
I remembered thinking the one zombie we’d picked up was really interested in Deadwood Gulch, and I wanted to see if this one was as well. All our caged zombies bumped along one side of the cage, facing the same direction, with no regard for chicken or us. It was the same direction as Deadwood Gulch from the shop—and I might be completely off the mark, but I wanted to see.
Zane got out, grabbing the bait bag, and opened up the tailgate. The zombie shuffled along the truck bed and then fell out. It picked itself up slowly, and walked to Zane. He circled into a u-turn, and led the zombie away from the truck. I rolled up my window as the zombie passed, and as soon as it made it beyond the truck, I got out.
“I feel like you’re doing all the heavy lifting,” I said.
“I feel like we dodged a bullet. Whose idea was it to let this guy just wander?”
“Some necromancer,” I said, smiling.
“Yeah, not one of my better ideas.”
“Well, perhaps not as well thought out as it could have been.” I said.
“Coming from a Nightingale that means nothing.”
“Ouch,” I faked a wince.
“Well, you three are more the go in and kick ass and plan later.”
“There’s some planning. And if there was some lacking here, look at it as fitting into your environment,” I said.
We grinned at one another, and I felt a zing run through me that had nothing to do with the magic that was always at the tips of my fingers. This was something else. I knew what it was—I just didn’t want to face it.
“Desdemona,” Zane began.
I looked around him. “Hey, there he goes. Get in,” I turned and climbed back into the truck. A moment later, Zane followed.
Pulling out across traffic, I stopped further down the highway shoulder, pulling off ahead of the zombie so that we could watch him. I reached under the seat and grabbed a cloth bag.
“Come on,” I said.
“What are we doing?” Zane asked.
“We’re known around here for stopping and looking in the weeds at weird places. We’ve spent a lot of time cultivating that,” I said, heading for the weeds along the side of the parking lot. “It lets us stop and get things done without looking suspicious.”
“Clever,” Zane said, bending down next to me.
“We’ve had some time to come up with these kinds of things,” I said, keeping my head bent, but still watching the zombie.
Zane and I stayed where we were for what felt like eons, both of us watching the zombie, and not speaking.
Zane broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Would you like to go to dinner with me?”
I blinked, and then looked at him. “What?” I asked, not sure what I heard.
“Dinner. You. Me. Together,” he said. “Yes or no?”
A wave of long-forgotten emotions washed over me. I looked into his stormy green eyes, and I felt lost. Not in a bad way, though. In a scary good way. It made my skin tingle. And again, the tingle had nothing to do with magic.
I hadn’t even gotten this tingle when Marcus Gibby had held my hand in my sophomore year of high school—my real sophomore year. I’d loved him since second grade, and to have him hold my hand had been one of the biggest thrills of my life. Even with all my boyfriends over the years, nothing had come close to the touch of Marcus Gibby’s hand.
Until now. With Zane looking at me like he wanted to kiss me. I opened my mouth to respond when a screech of brakes broke the silence.
Chapter Six
We both turned to see the zombie drifting out into the road as cars swerved around him.
Zane muttered something, and marched out to the zombie. He was grumbling, but not anything that I could make out clearly.
“Don’t let him bite you,” I said loudly, so he could hear me over the traffic. “That will completely suck.”
You don’t turn zombie if they bite you. You do get sick as shit, and are exposed to all sorts of gross things. I mean, have you seen their teeth? Disgusting doesn’t even begin to cover it. So while it’s not going to turn into the apocalypse if one gets a hold of you—it’s not pretty.
The zombie stumbled around a bit, then righted itself, and began heading south on the CanAm. Zane came back over to stand next to me, and we watched its progress, if you could call it that, in silence.
“Does it seem like it’s losing steam?” Zane asked.
I narrowed my eyes. “It does. Kind of like that one we picked up here. That’s the slowest one in the cage now.” I’d never seen zombies get tired. That was just what this looked like—an exhausted zombie.
“So yes or no to dinner?” Zane asked. His arms were crossed, and he wasn’t looking at me.
This was it. I should be paying attention to the zombie, to the fact we had yet another curse hanging over our heads, to all sorts of other things but instead—“Yes,” I said, feeling happier than I’d felt in a long time.
“Good,” Zane said. He didn’t speak again.
“Look,” I breathed.
The zom
bie had stopped, and it was right in front of the ravine that led to Deadwood Gulch.
“I was right,” I said. “It was Deadwood Gulch.” I turned to Zane. “We need to follow it.”
“No, it’s too close to dark,” Zane objected.
“I’m not afraid of the dark,” I said.
“Neither am I, but heading off into the dark and into a situation we don’t know, facing who knows what—come on, Desdemona, we are smarter than that.”
I watched the zombie stumbling into the brush. It would be in the trees in a few minutes, even at the slow pace it was moving. I sighed. “You’re right. But damn, I just want to find out where it’s going!”
“Is there anything back there?” Zane sounded completely normal again.
“Not for years and years,” I said. “Nothing currently.”
“Good place to hide, then,” he said.
“Yes.”
As we watched, the zombie made it through the trees. I sighed again. I hated letting anything get away.
“We’ll find it,” Zane patted my arm, his hand lingering for a moment. “Let’s get back.”
We walked back to the truck, and as we got in, Zane said, “What’s your favorite meal?”
That was easy. “Crab Hollandaise burger at the Saloon No. 10.”
He laughed. “That’s where we met.”
A smile that felt big and goofy spread over my face, and I couldn’t stop it. “Yes, it was.”
“Saloon No. 10 it is. How about tomorrow night?”
“All right,” I said, feeling my heart beat faster.
“I’ll pick you up.”
“No,” I said, looking over at him. “I’m not ready for questions. You know where I live, who I live with,” I added. “I’ll meet you there.”
He didn’t like my answer, but I knew he saw the sense in it. At least, I thought so.
“Seven, then?” Zane asked.
“Yes,” I said, smiling again.
As we drove back into town, I asked, “You want to come back to the shop with me?”
“Sure.”
We parked out back and went into the shop where Deirdre and Daniella were closing up.
“Where’s our friend?” Daniella asked.
“Somewhere in Deadwood Gulch,” I replied.
“Good call,” Deirdre said to me.
“We need to go check it out tomorrow. The zombie went straight in, like a homing pigeon.”
“Someone’s got to mind the shop,” Daniella said.
“Let’s talk about this later. I’m ready to get home,” Deirdre said.
“Hang on. I have to wash up,” I said.
When I’d gotten as much of the chicken goo and what felt like zombie goo (even though I knew there was no such thing on me), off, we all left, Zane and I driving back to Pearl street in my 911.
“You want to come over for dinner?” I asked.
“No,” Zane said, and he had a weird note in his voice.
Was he regretting asking me out? I looked over, and he was looking out the window. What the fuck? What had happened in the short time it took to drive back into town?
“All right. I’ll drop you off.”
He nodded, and when I got to his place and pulled in, he turned back to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. I don’t think I’ll be around until then. I have some things to tackle tomorrow.”
I looked at him for a moment. “Is everything all right?”
Zane leaned over, and covered my hand with his. “It is. I’ve just been putting off some things, and I want to get them out of the way.”
I understood that, even as I didn’t feel completely reassured. “OK. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
He nodded, and flashed me his amazing grin, and then he was gone. I waited until he got in the house, and drove back to ours.
When I came into the kitchen, I was bombarded by nearly the entire family, ghosts and all.
“Where’s Zane?” Doc asked.
“I dropped him off. He had things to do,” I said, feeling defensive and trying really hard not to be defensive. Then they would all know that something was up, and I’d be screwed.
The phone rang.
Thank Goddess.
Deirdre was closest. “Hello, Deana. I’m glad you called. Your mom is going bananas, even though she’s trying not to show it.” A moment of silence and then, “Oh, shit. Should I put this on speaker?” Deirdre turned to us. “All right, hang on. I’m going to yell.” She held the phone against her midsection. “Dee! Daniella! Get down here!”
There was a moment as everyone came into the kitchen, and Deirdre nodded, putting the phone up to her ear again. “Okay, I have everyone here. I’m putting you on speaker. What’s going on, Deana?” She pressed the speaker button.
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. Deana sounded far older than her years. “I’m up a creek with a vampire.”
All of us were silent, digesting what that might mean. I said, “How the hell did you end up the creek? Wasn’t this just you going and talking to Zachary?”
Deana sighed again. “It’s all complicated and basically, a shit show. Let me tell you, and then you can yell at me later, okay?”
“She’s totally one of us,” Daniella said in an undertone, which made all of us laugh a little.
Deana went through everything that had been going on.
“You were right,” I whispered to Dee. She’d been worried about Deana for a couple of days now.
“I hate that I usually am,” she whispered back.
“Well,” Deirdre said. “You are up a creek.”
“Good to know your assessment of the situation is accurate,” Daniella said.
“Mom?” Deirdre said.
“I’m trying to calm myself, Deana,” Dee answered.
“Couldn’t you have said no?” DeAnna asked. “Kel was such a… such a shit!”
This had all began because Deana took a case to help an old friend named Kel. We’d need to find out who this Kel person was that had dragged Deana into a veritable snake pit of vampire bullshit. They were up there with the necromancers as pains in the asses, in addition to all the other things you had to go through to deal with them. And now my niece was neck deep in it. But that would need to wait. Right now, Deana needed solutions.
We talked for a while, going over the best strategies for Deana. Now that she was out as one of us, she had to be strong, take a stand. Otherwise, the rest of the supernatural world would run all over you, take all your shit, and leave you in the dirt. It was every man for himself out there. I was glad that we didn’t have to go anywhere—that we had a home base here, in Deadwood, and that we’d been here before pretty much everyone else. So people knew to stay out of our turf. Well, until now, I thought, remembering I needed to share the news about the zombie heading into Deadwood Gulch.
Deana talked Dee and DeAnna out of going back to Los Angeles, which I was glad to hear. Even as I understood their desire—I also wanted to go in and kick Kel’s ass for getting her into his mess. I got it. But if Dee and DeAnna went back, it would be adding targets to themselves that they didn’t need. The target on Deana was bad enough. I nearly laughed out loud when she asked for vampire spray.
I brought the focus back to solving Deana’s concerns. “Let’s focus on the immediate problem. Vampire spray,” I laughed at the idea. “I could sell a metric ton if we actually manage to make it. On the very down low, of course.”
“I’m really glad I called you all,” Deana said.
I could hear it in her voice.
“Why didn’t you do it earlier?” Dee asked.
“Because I didn’t want to worry you,” Deana replied.
“I’ve been worried,” Dee said. “I can tell when you’re in trouble.”
Deana sighed. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“If there’s one thing the last month has taught us, we’re stronger together,” Dee said.
“Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?” DeAnn
a exclaimed. She rolled her eyes.
“I have some ideas,” Deirdre said, getting to the business at hand. “If your ears are burning for the next couple of days, Deana, just know that your mom is complaining. But we’ll let her vent at us.”
“Thanks,” Dee said dryly.
“How about two days? I have just under five days to figure this mess out,” Deana replied.
“All right. You call us, Deana. If we don’t hear from you in forty-eight hours, we’re sending in the cavalry,” I interjected. I didn’t want to let Dee rip into Deana. Well, not right now. That was a mother’s prerogative, but at the moment, it wouldn’t help anything. Given my experience with Meema, it was better done in person than on the phone.
“Deane, please be careful,” Dee said.
“I’m trying as hard as I can, Mom,” Deana sounded like she was holding in frustration.
“That’s what worries me, honey,” Dee replied.
“Come on, lazy—oh, hey, Doc,” I said.
Doc had drifted over, obviously listening to the call. “Darlin’?” he said toward the phone.
“Hey, Doc,” Deana answered.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Not really. But I think I will be.”
“You mean you finally took your head out of your backside and leaned on your family?”
“Wow. Shamed by the family ghost,” Deana laughed a little.
“That’s what we’re here for, darlin’,” Doc shot back. He looked over at me and winked. “To tell all you still locked in the mortal coil what you’re doin’ wrong.”
“You’re so good at it, too,” I said. “Deana, keep the faith. This happens to us all the time. The way forward will show itself.”
“I hate to say it, but listen to Miss Wise Guru,” Deirdre added.
“Okay. I’m going to hang up now,” Deana was still laughing. “Love you,” she added.
“Love you,” we all chorused.
Deirdre hung up, and there was a moment of silence.
“Whatever she’s involved with, we don’t even know the half of it,” DeAnna said.
“Nope, we don’t,” Dee added in.
“Didn’t she just tell us everything?” I asked, feeling a little confused. But I was thankful that the current Deana crisis meant no one was asking me about Zane. Which, had I not been saved by the phone, would have occurred. Interrogation style.
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