Undead and Uneasy by MaryJanice Davidson Page A

least, the werewolves I’d seen),
    lean build, chiseled good looks, big gorgeous eyes (a kind of gold/brown in his case). They
    almost seemed to glow from within. Luminous. That was the word. "What's that supposed
    to mean?"

    Were there no fugly werewolves? Fat ones? Nearsighted, squinty-eyed ones?

    "Isaid , what's that supposed to mean?"

    Mild-mannered ones?

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    "You carnivorous ravenous creatures of the full moon," I said sweetly. "Carrying off
    babies, biting people and turning them into fellow ravenous creatures of the full moon,
    attacking large-breasted women wearing tight T-shirts." I hailed him with the smoothie.
    'You know. 'You people.'

    "Ugh!" Derik said, looking genuinely revolted. Looking, in fact, a lot like Antonia when
    she had told me what he was about to say. "Omnivores taste awful. Trust me. We don't
    eat you."

    "And it's not the measles," Cain (again: What kind of name was that for a woman?)
    barked. Literally. "Yon can't catch it. We're two different species, you highlighted
    dimwit."

    "Like them?" I asked, pleased, while I patted my bangs back into place. "And if we're two different species, you want to explain her?"

    Lara coughed out some banana smoothie as I pointed at her.

    "Uh," was all Derik got out.

    "I mean, there are no zebra-tigers, right? No gorilla-giraffes? Porcupine-platypi?"

    "It's . . . complicated," Michael grumped.

    "Nothing you could possibly understand," Cain snarled. Cain.

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) Cain sat down and shut her mouth. Hah! I looked at Michael with a smidge more respect.
    Guy hadn't even raised his voice, and Cain was looking like a whipped hound. Really, he
    was a lot like Sinclair in many ways, and it was a damned shame he was m—

    Stop that, Betsy.

    "—mean to offend you in your own home."

    "No, you certainly wouldn't want to offend me. That's coming through loud and clear, Fist
    Boy."

    "Pack Leader Fist Boy," Brendan corrected, fixing me with a glare he probably thought
    was menacing. He’d never dealt with a hysterical Marc when he couldn't find a clean scrub
    shirt. Or Laura when she was late for church. Or Garrett when he ran out of yarn before
    he finished a sweater.

    Or Sinclair, for that matter, at any time. My guy had only to look this pup dead in the eye,
    and the kid (couldn't have been a werewolf hair over twenty-two) would be his slave as
    long as Sinclair wanted.

    As a matter of fact,I could probably make this kid my slave.

    I actually thought about it while one of them babbled about something or other. But in the
    end I decided to play it carefully. They already knew I was quick and strong. That was
    two things too many for strangers to know about me. There was plenty of time to turn on
    the charm, if I needed to.

    "—where they might be?"

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    "Who?"

    "Antonia and Garrett, you twit!"

    "Brendan."

    Puppy Boy sat down and shut his piehole.

    "So?" Michael prompted.

    "What?"

    Michael ran both hands through his brown hair, mussing it to no end. "So. Where. Do.
    You. Think. Antonia. And. Her. Friend. Are?"

    "I. Have. No. Idea. That's. The. Whole. Problem."

    Lara giggled. Or gurgled; she had another mouthful of smoothie. I drained the rest of mine
    in two gulps and got up to head for the counter.

    "Not the blender again, vampire, we're begging you." Cain said it with touching, horrified
    sincerity; Brendan managed to look equal parts sneery and weary.

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) That's vampire queen , I thought. But I took pity on them. Their hearing was probably as
    good as mine.

    Maybe better. I narrowed my eyes at them while I rinsed my glass without looking, then
    accidentally broke it on the faucet