Deaths Excellent Vacation

me.”
    “Yeah,” Green says.
    “Which made me a monster.”
    He doesn’t move his hand, though he agrees with her. Her fingers stay lightly on his, ready to be rejected.
    “I thought you could help,” she says. “You would make me not a monster anymore.”
    “Wish I could have.” Still their hands touch, in midair, but he doesn’t pull away, until it’s awkward, or meaningful, or something, but neither of them pulls away.
    “What are we if we aren’t humans or heroes? Are we always monsters?” she asks.
    No. We are, he thinks. We just are.
    Immortal? Enduring. Like a rock, like an old man fishing—?
    “Organized, maybe,” he says to her.
    “Not very.” But she smiles.
    “You more than me.”
    “It’s a talent.”
    The kids could use help. Not that he can give it. He has failed at being a Protector and failed at being a man. But maybe she can think of something he can do. Maybe together they can—
    He wonders if she’s foreseeing he’ll think that.
    He wonders what she’s foreseeing.
    That might bother him, her foreseeing him.
    “I owe them,” she says. “Thanks.”
    But maybe it won’t bother him much.
    “S’pose we go back to my place; we can have some coffee and talk about stuff.”
    “You don’t have any tea?” says his red-haired Chinese immortal hopefully.
    Nope, he’s about to say; but here he is in Shinjuku Station, in Japan, on another planet, and it is spring. Nothing will bring back Mutti and Dadu, nothing will bring back his lost wife or his old friends. Even if Lan is one of the Eight Immortals, there are no guarantees. And nothing will make him a man.
    But perhaps to be superhuman you need to have been human once, and failed.
    Here is what I’d say to you, he thinks to those little Japanese kids he will probably meet again, here’s the advice I’d give. You little bits of frost, you falling leaves, you mortals? You’re doing the important thing right. Keep hold of each other as long as you can. Hug each other and hang around together.
    Nothing lasts forever. But Atom and Astounding and the Iguana and me?
    We had a great time fishing.
    “This is Japan. I bet we can buy us some tea.”

One for the Money
    JEANIENE FROST
     
     
    Jeaniene Frost lives with her husband and their very spoiled dog in Florida. Although not a vampire herself, she confesses to having pale skin, wearing a lot of black, and sleeping in late whenever possible. And although she can’t see ghosts, she loves to walk through old cemeteries. Jeaniene also loves poetry and animals but fears children and hates to cook. She is currently at work on the next novel in her bestselling Night Huntress series.

One
    I squinted in the morning sunlight. At this hour, I should have been in bed, but thanks to my uncle Don, I was traipsing across the NCSU campus instead. I strode up to Harrelson Hall, then climbed to the third floor to the class I was looking for. When I walked in, most of the students ignored me, either chatting with each other or rifling through their bags as they waited for class to start. The room had stadium-style seating, with the entrance down by the professor’s lectern. My lower vantage point gave me the same sweeping view of the students the professor would have. I scanned every face, seeking the one that matched the jpeg I’d been sent. No, no, no . . . ah. There you are.
    A pretty blonde stared back at me with barely concealed suspicion. I smiled in a friendly way and threaded up the aisle toward her. My smile didn’t soothe her; she flicked her gaze around the room as if debating whether to make a run for it.
    Tammy Winslow, I thought coolly. You should be scared, because you’re worth a lot of money dead.
    The air felt charged with invisible currents moments before a ghost burst into the room. Of course, I was the only one who could see him.
    “Trouble,” the ghost said.
    Sounds of heavy footsteps came down the hall while the air thickened with greater supernatural energy.
    So much for doing this the quiet way.
    “Get Bones,” I told the ghost. “Tell him to be ready at the window.”
    That turned a few heads, but I didn’t care about my college-student ruse anymore. I had to get those people out of here.
    “I’ve got a bomb,” I called out loudly. “If you don’t want to die, get out now.”
    Several kids gasped. A few snickered, not sure if I was kidding, but no one ran for the door. The footsteps coming down the hall got closer.
    “Get out now ,” I snarled,