MisStaked Read Online Free PDF

the stairs.
    Breathred whipped around to find his chimp glaring at him from the bed. Breathred shook his head. He had entirely forgotten about Stud, something he thought he'd never be able to do. Wouldn't you know the only spell he ever had work for him was the one that gave his familiar the power of speech?
    "No, it turned out to be a cat,” Breathred mumbled, slipping into the bathroom.
    "It was a what? Did you say cat?” Stud howled from the bed.
    "Yes, Stud. It was a cat, but it was a big cat."
    "I told you I wished to be called Reginald,” Stud snorted.
    "Nothing doing. I named you Stud before you could talk, so you're stuck with it,” Breathred retorted, a little angrier than he should have been. But the chimp was provoking him.
    "Whatever. Did you at least kick the cat's ass?"
    "Well, as I said, it was a big cat,” Breathred hoped the sound of the shower would drown out his answer. There was no way he could live with the monkey now. He slipped into the shower before he could hear Stud's response. The hot water felt good. He could almost ignore the places where the leather had rubbed him raw, except for when the spray of water chose to coat those areas. He bit down on his facecloth, so Stud wouldn't hear him whimpering. There was no way he would give the chimp any more fodder for his verbal abuse. Stud already had enough without him adding anything else to his already-scathing repartee.
    Breathred let the steaming water soak his bunched neck. The muscles instantly relaxed. Who knew vampire slaying could be such a stressful endeavor? He chalked it up to first night jitters. Tomorrow would be better. If he ever got another client, that was. The handbook had said nothing about how long it took for vampires to surface. He had been surprised when the first call came in. He knew vampires liked to keep a low profile, otherwise they wouldn't have remained so well hidden for as long as they had.
    The human race was just lucky they had people like him to watch out for them. He reached down and shut the water off. He had hidden from the monkey as long as he could. The last thing Breathred wanted was for the little poo-thrower to come in and tell him to stop playing with it, again.
    He waded through the wall of steam and grabbed his towel from its hook. It seemed best to dab the tender parts first, then rub the rest as vigorously as possible to make up for the less than adequate drying delivered to those other parts. He knew it made no sense, but it made him feel better about neglecting them.
    He draped the towel over his shoulder and turned to the mirror. He stroked his hand over the surface, wiping off the condensation. Man, he looked old. Whoever said clean living made you younger lied. He had more crow's feet than a Kansas farm. He definitely needed to talk to the Avon lady about some age-defying cream.
    A rustling to his left snapped his attention away from the mirror. A vision of crazed, amorous felines flooded his brain. He slowly cocked his head to the left. Through the steam, a form took shape. Glowering eyes stared up at him from the commode.
    "Got a shrinkage problem there don't you, Big Boy,” a decidedly feminine voice said.
    Breathred bent forward for a better look at his stalker. Hazel eyes peered over a wilting comic book and recognition slammed home.
    "Luna, what are you doing in my bathroom?"
    "Number one, I swear,” Luna answered, putting the book on the floor beside the commode.
    "That's not what I mean. What are you doing in here at the same time as me?” Breathred hid himself as best he could behind his soaking hand towel wishing he hadn't slung the big fluffy one back over the shower rod.
    "Reginald said it would be all right.” She reached for the toilet paper.
    Breathred turned his head. “Do you think you could wait until I leave the room before you do that?"
    "Don't be so uptight. You're one to talk. Don't you think you'd better cover Mr. Happy before Seattle gets a new space needle?” She