Nice Girls Don't Bite Their Neighbors Read Online Free PDF

going to be able to provide much more, Dick intervened, explaining about the reckless driver and the extent of Jamie’s injuries.
    Ophelia’s crystalline gaze did not waver from my face. “And what led to your turning him? Did we get a little hungry in sight of the poor bleeding accident victim?”
    “He asked me to turn him,” I told her, my voice a little firmer than it should have been, given the circumstances. “He didn’t want to die.”
    Ophelia looked to Dick, asking for confirmation. He nodded.
    “Dick helped me. He showed me how,” I said. “I gave him as much blood as I could before—before he faded out.”
    The Council members turned to one another and started their silent conversation with lip twitches and various eye gestures. Peter Crown sneered at me, but that was actually friendlier than his usual expression.
    I cleared my throat. “So, how much trouble am I in?”
    Ophelia gave an uninterested shrug. “No, for once, you seem to have behaved appropriately.”
    I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Sorry, what?”
    Sophie, whom I tried to steer clear of after she’d picked her way through my brain using her special truth-seeking psychic talents, smiled warmly at me. Of course, she smiled that way right before she used said special talents, so I leaned back a little on the couch. “Really, Jane, you should relax. You performed admirably. I would imagine even the human community would appreciate your efforts. We will, of course, contact the human authorities and inform them of young Mr. Lanier’s passing.”
    I nodded.
    While Waco, who’d always taken a gentlemanly grandfather stance with me, patted my head affectionately, Peter glared at me. I sat stone-still, unsure how to respond. Where were the not-so-subtle threats? The menu of horrific potential consequences? Ophelia’s barbed insults about my spazzery and/or wardrobe?
    “This is the part where you say thank you,” Ophelia said, lifting an eyebrow.
    “Thank you,” I parroted back to her.
    “We’ll work on enthusiasm and sincerity some other time,” she said with a smirk.
    “Give her a break, Ophelia,” Waco muttered. “Under the circumstances, she’s holding up very well. I’ve heard that your first turn as a sire wasn’t quite so neat and tidy.”
    The great thing about people as composed as Ophelia is that when you finally crack them, the brief flash of anger across their features is blinding in its pissiness. Ophelia stood and smoothed her hands over her skirt. “Well, I’m sure you’d like to get home and start ‘feathering the nest,’ so to speak. You only have three days to prepare for your new arrival.”
    I nearly dropped Jamie from my lap. “I’m sorry, what?”
    Ophelia’s lip quirk deepened to a full-on smirk. “Your new childe, he’ll be living with you. It’s your responsibility to help him make the transition into the vampire world. Didn’t Gabriel explain the sire–childe dynamic to you when you rose?”
    “Yeah, but I pretty much told him where to stuff it and lived how I pleased.”
    “And look where that got you,” Peter retorted.
    “In other words, congratulations,” Sophie chirped. “It’s a boy!”
    “Are you being sarcastic or sincere right now?” I demanded. “Because honestly, I can’t tell.”
    Sophie gave me a sharp little nod. “A little of both.”
    “Awesome,” I grumbled, much to Peter’s delight.
    Sophie handed me a black gift bag packed with sample bottles of synthetic blood, Blood-B-Gone stain-removing wipes, a GPS-enhanced alarm clock that tracked the sun’s movements, SPF-500 sunblock, iron supplements with what looked like a baby vampire on the label, and a copy of Siring for the Stupid: A Beginner’s Guide to Raising Newborn Vampires. Well, that capped it. No successful endeavor in my life, undead or otherwise, had started with a gift basket.
    “Seriously, who do you get to publish this stuff for you?” I demanded, holding up the copy of Siring for the Stupid . I