Jeaniene Frost - Destined for an Early Grave

“Aw, come on, honey,” he said to Denise, “let’s dance.”

His hand landed on her leg. My brows shot up. Cooper started to stand when I smacked the man’s offensive paw aside.

“My friend only dances with me.”

Denise smiled. “Sorry.”

The guy gave me an evil, disgusted look, and walked away, his three friends in tow. Too bad, Bushy Hair, I thought.

“Nicely done, Commander,” Cooper commented.

“Stop calling me that.”

I didn’t mean to sound so sharp. Cooper just didn’t realize the title kept reminding me that my position as leader was forever gone. Right now, sitting at a bar trying without success to drown my sorrows, I felt pretty useless.

Denise glanced between the two of us. “I think we should get my purse now,” she said.

Cooper and I walked Denise to Spade’s car. It was unlocked, to my surprise. When I questioned that, Denise shrugged and said Spade had remarked that locks just kept honest people out. Her purse was still tucked under the passenger seat where she’d left it. Denise had just slung it over her shoulder when the slurred drawl behind us stopped her.

“Well, now, boys, lookie what we found.”

I’d heard them approach. Their smell, loud steps, and obvious heartbeats made them far from stealthy, but since they were human, I hadn’t been concerned.

“Beat it, guys,” I said.

Bushy Hair from the bar didn’t stop. Neither did his two pals, who were equally large.

“Now we was just sayin’,” Bushy Hair began with a slur that revealed how drunk he was, “that it weren’t fair two such pretty gals was only playin’ with this here Negro.”

“Negro?”

Cooper repeated the word with open challenge. God, a trio of bigots. Just what the doctor didn’t order.

“I’ll handle this,” I said coldly. These dumb-asses didn’t know I was the most dangerous of the group. They kept concentrating on Cooper, seeing only the well-built male as the threat.

“Here’s some really good advice: Start walking. I’m in a bad mood, so get the fuck out of here before you get on my last nerve.”

I didn’t bother reaching in my clothes to get my silver. On humans, I didn’t need weapons. Spade had parked in the far back corner of the lot. These chumps thought that spelled opportunity, but they were wrong.

It did surprise me, though, when Bushy Hair pulled a gun from underneath his shirt. He aimed it at Cooper.

“You.” There was an ugly resonation to his voice. “You’re gonna sit on that ground while we make nice with your gals.”

“Cooper.” It came from me in an incensed growl. I wasn’t risking him or Denise getting shot. “Do as he says.”

Cooper had been following my orders for a long time. He made a furious noise but sat as directed. From the way Bushy Hair handed off the gun to his friend, he was satisfied.

“That’s real smart, redhead.” He leered. “Now, you just stand by my buds while your friend and I get in this backseat.”

I went right to his friends like he said. After all, one of them had the gun. If I quietly coldcocked them, there’d be no nasty scene—

Bushy Hair only got to place his hand on Denise before I felt a whoosh. I had an instant to tense before I realized who it was, and then there was a sickening thump. Or, to be more accurate, a splat.

It was difficult to say who had the most horrified look on their faces—the two men Bones now had dangling from their necks, or Denise as she stared at the remains of Bushy Hair’s head. Spade stood next to her, muttering something foul, then he kicked the twitching figure of Bushy Hair hard enough to have him ricochet off her car. Spade had flung the man to the ground so viciously, his head looked like a watermelon dropped from five stories.

“Denise, are you all right?” Spade asked.

“He’s…. he’s…” Denise didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Really, really dead,” I supplied, relieved that two vampires flying at high speeds over a parking lot hadn’t attracted attention. “Bones, let them go, you’re killing them.”

“That’s the point,” he answered, still holding them by their throats. “I’d break their necks, but that would be too quick.”

They kicked and clawed at his wrists while their tongues protruded from their mouths. Denise looked like she was going to throw up.

“Why did you have to kill him?” she whispered to Spade.

“Because of what he intended to do,” Spade replied, low and fierce. “No one deserves to live after that.”

Cooper gave the body a pitiless glance. “We need to move him, Commander.”

I didn’t bother to comment about the title. First things first.

“Bones.”

He glanced at me as if there weren’t two dying men in his hands. Their limbs were moving slower now. One of them urinated, darkening the blue in his jeans. Clearly, he wasn’t just trying to scare them.

“At least don’t do it here.” I stalled. “This is too public, and you’re freaking Denise out. Throw them in the trunk, and we’ll fight about it on the way out. If you win, you get to strangle them twice.”

His lip curled. “I know what you’re trying to do, luv, but in this case, you make a valid point.”

He dropped them, and they fell like twin bags of bricks. Harsh, gurgling noises came from them as they began to breathe again.

I heard some people approach. They were laughing, minding their own business—and about to stumble onto a messy murder scene and two half-strangled men.

“Spade, take our car and get Denise out of here,” I said. “You can meet up with us later. Cooper, open the trunk, let’s get him in here.”

“Blue Forerunner, mate, other side of the lot,” Bones directed, tossing keys to Spade. Another set was passed to him in the same manner. “Ring you on the morrow.”

Spade took Denise away, pausing only to stop the people from coming over with a flash of green.

“Get back inside, you’re staying longer,” he instructed them. They nodded, did a one-eighty, and returned to the bar. Poor folks would probably stay all night.

“Cooper, I don’t want you getting bloody, you can’t green-eye someone into forgetting about it,” I said as I hefted the lifeless man into the trunk. “Grab one of the others and toss him in.”

Cooper complied, picking up the nearest guy and shoving him into the trunk.

Bones lifted the remaining man and shook him. “If I hear a single peep out of either of you, I’ll shut you up the permanent way. Now, before I lock you in the boot, where’s your car?”

“Unngghh,” the guy in his grasp said. “Unngghh…”

“You damaged his windpipe, he can’t talk,” I noted.

“Indeed.” Bones scored the tip of his finger across a fang, smiled wolfishly into the man’s terrified face, and thrust his bloody finger into his mouth. “Now, answer me. Softly. Or I’ll rip your tongue out and ask the other bloke.”

With even that small drop of Bones’s blood, the man could speak again, if not very intelligibly.

“…white ’ickup ’ruck…”

“The white pickup truck with the Confederate flag near the front?” Bones queried with another shake. “That it?”

“…essss…”

“Who’s got the keys?”

A wracking cough, then a pained moan followed his response. “Kenny…’ocket…’illed him…”

“In the dead bloke’s pocket?”

“Unngh.”

“Kitten, if you would?”

I began digging inside the pants of the body. Nothing, front or back. Then I patted down the shirt pockets. Bingo.

“Here.”

“Cooper, take their ride and drive it to Twenty-eighth and Weber Street. Wait there, we’ll pick you up when we’re through.”