All Together Dead

Cindy Lou was a trailer-trash vampire and a bad mother, but the three judges—different ones this time, and I didn’t know any of them—abided by the written contract the parents had signed and refused to give the boy a new guardian. However, they ruled, the contract had to be equally enforced on the parents’ behalf, and the boy was required to spend time with his biological parents as long as they chose to enforce the right.
    The head judge, a hawk-faced guy with dark, liquid eyes, called the boy up to stand before them. “You owe these people respect and obedience, and you signed this contract, too,” he said. “You may be a minor in human law, but to us, you are as responsible as… Cindy Lou. ” Boy, it just killed him, having to admit there was a vampire named Cindy Lou. “If you try to terrorize your human parents, or coerce them, or drink their blood, we will amputate your hand. And when it grows back, we’ll amputate it again.”
    The boy could hardly be whiter than he was, and his human mother fainted. But he’d been so cocky, so sure of himself, and so dismissive of his poor parents, I thought the strong warning was necessary. I caught myself nodding.
    Oh, yeah, this was fair, to threaten a kid with having his hand amputated.
    But if you’d seen this kid, you might have agreed. And Cindy Lou was no prize; whoever had turned her must have been mentally and morally deficient.
    I hadn’t been needed after all. I was wondering about the rest of the evening when the queen came through the double doors at the end of the room, Sigebert and Andre in close attendance. She was wearing a sapphire blue silk pantsuit with a beautiful diamond necklace and small diamond earrings. She looked classy, absolutely smooth, sleek, and perfect. Andre made a beeline to me.
    “I know,” he said, “that is, Sophie-Anne tells me that I have done wrong to you. I’m not sorry, because I will do anything for her. Others don’t mean anything to me. But I do regret that I have not been able to refrain from causing something that distresses you.”
    If that was an apology, it was the most half-assed one I’d ever received in my life. It left almost everything to be desired. All I could do was say, “I hear you.” It was the most I’d ever get.
    By then, Sophie-Anne was standing in front of me. I did my head-bob thing. “I will need you with me during the next few hours,” she said, and I said, “Sure.” She glanced up and down my clothes, as if wishing I had dressed up a little more, but no one had warned me that a part of the night marked off for Commerce meant fancy clothes were appropriate.
    Mr. Cataliades steamed up to me, wearing a beautiful suit and a dark red-and-gold silk tie, and he said, “Good to see you, my dear. Let me brief you on the next item on the schedule.”
    I spread my hands to show I was ready. “Where’s Diantha?” I asked.
    “She is working something out with the hotel,” Cataliades said. He frowned. “It’s most peculiar. There was an extra coffin downstairs, apparently.”
    “How could that be?” Coffins belonged to somebody. It’s not like a vampire was going to be traveling with a spare, like you had to have a dress coffin and an everyday coffin. “Why did they call you?”
    “It had one of our tags on it,” he said.
    “But all of our vamps are accounted for, right?” I felt a tingle of anxiety in my chest. Just then, I saw the usual waiters moving among the crowd, and I saw one spot me and turn away. Then he saw Barry, who’d come in with the King of Texas. The waiter turned away yet again.
    I actually started to call to a nearby vampire to hold the guy so I could have a look into his head, and then I realized I was acting as high-handed as the vampires themselves. The waiter vanished, and I hadn’t had a close look at him, so I wasn’t sure I could even identify him in a crowd of other servers in the same outfit. Mr. Cataliades was talking, but I held up a hand. “Hold it for a sec,” I murmured. The waiter’s quick turn had reminded me of something, something else that had seemed odd.
    “Please pay attention, Miss Stackhouse,” the lawyer said, and I had to stow the thread of thought away. “Here’s what you need to do. The queen will be negotiating for a few favors she needs to help rebuild her state. Just do what you do best to discover if everyone dealing with her is honorable.”
    This was not a very specific guideline. “Do my best,” I said. “But