Bite Me

away.
    And he’s like, “Abby, after this is over—”
    And I’m like, finger on his lips, “Shh, shh, shh, Foo. Donot awkwardize the moment with sniveling. I’ve been preparing my whole life for this.”
    And I have.
    So we jammed.
    And outside Flood is like, “You okay?”
    And I’m all, “Yeah. Do you think I’m a freak because I have a tail?”
    And he’s all, “No, not because of that.”
    Which was awesome for him to say.
    So we did the low-profile walk to Walgreens, where we bought three pairs of sunglasses and a disposable cell phone for Tommy and I got some Gummi bears, which I am dipping in blood and eating now—biting off their little bear heads. Then we go over to the financial district and we find the bar called the Sunken Ship on Jackson Street in the old section, and there’s a big picture of a sailing ship, and THE SUNKEN SHIP is carved in big letters, and we’re not two blocks from the roof where we spent the night, and I’m all, “Oops.”
    And Flood is like, “Now what?”
    And I’m like, “Don’t you have fake ID?” I was kind of fucking with him for pretending to be five hundred years old when we first met, when he’s only nineteen.
    And he’s like, “No, do you?”
    “Yeah. Like six of them. I’ll go in and look around.”
    And he’s like, “Okay.”
    So I start to go inside, where all these suits and citizens are, and I hear, “Hey,” a girl’s voice. Quiet, but like she knows we can hear.
    And it’s the Countess, palming a door shut on this below-street apartment. And she’s in like black jeans carrying a pair of Nikes, but her hair is all glorious, and in like an instant she’s up over the rail, not even touching the stairs, and in Tommy’s arms. And it was beautiful, and sad, and I felt my heart break, but then it was like leaping for joy, because I really do love the Countess, and I love Tommy, but they love each other, and well—fucksocks.
    So I’m like, “Cold-faced killers on the clock, bitches, we don’t have time for your bonery right now.”
    And the Countess like lets Tommy go and gives me a big hug and she’s like, “So, girl-e-girl, the dead thing, it works for you.”
    And I’m like, “Duh.”
    And she looks at Flood and she’s, “I’m not sure about the tropical thing though.”
    And he’s like, “Abby sprayed pigeon blood on my pants.”
    And she’s like, “No, that part’s good.”
    And he’s like, “She has a tail.”
    And I’m like, “Traitor!”
    Then she looks all sad, and she’s like, “Tommy, we need to talk.”
    And he’s like, “No, we need to move.”
    So, while we walk toward the water we explain about the old vamps and the clean up, and the Raven and whatnot.
    ’Kayso, now we’re on the roof of the Bay Club, which is a really nice gym across the street from the dock, and we are staking out the Raven, and from up here we can see intothe cockpit, which is like the size of a whole apartment. And they’re there. The three of them and Kona, the blond Rasta guy. Two women and a guy. And they’re looking all fly in their black bodysuits and black trench coats and all. But the tall blond guy has something on the table, a long case, and he takes something out and starts putting it together.
    I’m all, “What’s he got?”
    “It’s a rifle,” goes the Countess.
    WTF? WTF? WTF? I go, “A gun?”
    And Tommy goes, “What’s with the gun?”
    And I’m like, “Yeah, guns are for shit on vampyres. Uh, us.” I still totally don’t want to get shot.
    And Jody’s like, “They’re not going after vampyres.”
    And Tommy’s like, “Abby, would you stop typing. Please?”
    And I’m like, “Rawr!”
    And Jody’s like, “He’s leaving the ship.”
    And I’m all, “WTF?”
    And Jody’s all, “We have to follow.”
    ’Kayso, gotta jet. L8erz.

22
Meeting at the Palace
    RIVERA
    They traded in the Ford at the city motor pool for one that had a Plexiglas divider between the front and rear seats. Cavuto’s knees were pressed against the glove compartment, since the seat didn’t adjust, but it was worth the trade-off. It turned out the organic dog biscuits that Rivera had bought gave Marvin gas. He now had his own little glass partition in which to exhaust, and the inspectors drank their coffee relatively free of doggy stench.
    “I don’t sleep well during the day,” Cavuto said.
    “Roger that,” said Rivera. “I feel like I’ve been up for a week.” He dialed his messages, then looked at his