Undead and Uneasy Read Online Free PDF Page B

to
    Marjorie, who looked like a librarian (she was) but was also an eight-hundred-year-old
    vampire.

    She was dressed in sensible brown shoes (blech), a navy blue skirt, and a ruffled cream
    blouse. Her brown hair was streaked with gray, and her pale face was played up with just
    the right amount of makeup. "Forgive my intrusion, Majesty."

    "What are you doing at a funeral home, anyway? There's probably a whole back room full
    of Bibles in this place."

    Marjorie grimaced at "Bibles," but readily answered. "I read about the accident in the

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) paper and came to pay my respects, Majesty. I regret the deaths of your father and
    mother."

    "She was not my mother," I corrected out of years of habit. "But thanks. That's why
    you're lurking? To pay your respects?"

    "Well, I could hardly sit through the service."

    I almost giggled at the image of ancient Marjorie, probably the oldest vamp on the planet,
    cowering in the vestibule with both hands clamped over her ears, lest she hear a stray
    "Jesus" or "the Lord works in mysterious ways."

    I, if I may be immodest for a brief moment, could hear any religious epithet, prayer, or
    Christmas carol. It was a perk of being the vampire queen.

    "If you need anything, you will please call on me," she insisted.

    Oh, sure, Marjorie. I'd love to go to the warehouse district and hang around in the vamp
    library, checking out thousand-year-old dusty tomes and being more depressed than I
    already am. I avoided that place like most vamps avoided churches. Even in life, I'd never
    been a fan of libraries.

    Luckily, Marjorie took care of all that tedious stuff for Sinclair and me. And even more
    luckily, she had zero interest in grabbing power. She'd lived through three or four kings (I
    think . . . I was vague on bloodsucker history) and had been content to putter among her
    stacks while they wreaked their reigns of terror. She had outlasted them all. I wondered
    idly if she would outlast me and Sinclair. Would she even remember us, two thousand
    years from now?

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) As stiff as she was, I had to admit it was nice to see her. At least somebody had bothered
    to show up, even if it was a vampire.

    "Are you going to the cemetery?"

    And see my own grave again? Not a chance in hell. But all I said out loud was, "There's
    nothing for me there."

    Marjorie seemed to understand and bowed slightly as I turned on my (elegant) heel and
    left.

Chapter 5

    I had heard the car turn in the drive, of course (sometimes I could hear a cricket from a
    mile away), but took my time walking to the door and listening to the increasingly frantic
    hammering.

    Finally, after growing weary of my passive aggressiveness, I opened my front door and
    immediately went for the kill. "Thanks for all the support at the funeral,Mom . Really
    helpful. Why, with you there I didn't feel like an orphan or anything! Having a shoulder to
    lean on and all was such a comfort."

    My mother brushed by me, BabyCrap™ (an established property of Babyjon™) in tow.
    She smelled like burped up milk. She was wearing a blue sweater (in summertime!) and
    plum-colored slacks, with black flats. Her mop of curls was even more a mess than usual.

    "By the way," I said cheerfully, "you look like dried up hell."

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) She ignored that. "A funeral service is no place for an infant," she panted, struggling to
    manage all the paraphernalia. It was amazing . . . the kid wasn't even a year old, and he
    had more possessions than I did.

    Mom thrust Babyjon at me and I bounced him in my arms, then kissed the top of his head.
    I might have been pissed at her, but damn, I was glad to seehim .

    "You missed a helluva party," I said dryly.

    "No doubt." Mom puffed white curls off her