Undead and Unwelcome

Chapter 33

Betsy!

OMG you’ve got to get back ASAP because TSIATHTF!!!! Grab the gang and CBRA! Right now!

“You see what I mean?” I bitched, showing Jessica Marc’s latest acronym-​strewn e-​mail. “How am I supposed to make heads or tails out of this? He could be asking me to schedule a massage for all I know.”

Jessica shrugged. “Can’t help you with that one. Gives me a headache just to look at it. Besides, don’t you have more important things to worry about?”

“Damn straight. I had to listen to Sinclair’s shrill bitching when he couldn’t make his cell phone work. Big baby—you’d think the thing was permanently attached to his head. I suggested he call from the mansion, but his stubborn paranoia kicked in and he refused. He’s sure the phones are all tapped. The thing of it is, he’s probably right. Did you know the full moon is tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Can you—wait. You did?”

Jessica gave me a look. “I checked before we boarded the plane. Since we were heading into the belly of the beast, so to speak.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a few too many things on my mind lately to look up things like moon phases.”

“Yes, of course, for example: Is there a shoe sale at Macy’s today?”

“I hate you.”

Jessica shook her head and smiled at me. “Nice try, but I know I’m your hero.”

“Hero,” I began, “isn’t exactly the word I’d—”

Sinclair stepped into the small sitting area before we could really get going, splendidly dressed in a dark suit and his Kenneth Coles.

“You clean up good,” Jessica commented, and he bowed his head in acknowledgment.

“Are you all right, hon? You look a little distracted. Is your phone working now?”

“No, they’re claiming someone cancelled our service and it will be a few hours before the cells work. And Tina hasn’t responded to my e-​mails.”

The man did pick the oddest things to fret about. “It’s probably a bad signal or something. Besides, don’t you think we’ve got slightly more pressing things to worry about?”

“No doubt, my love. I suggest we try to reconcile with the Council tonight so as not to face several hundred angry werewolves tomorrow evening.”

“Say it twice,” I said, inwardly groaning. Man oh man, the hits just kept on coming. I actually envied Marc, back in St. Paul with nothing more pressing to worry about than whether or not he had time to hit Cub Foods before his shift started.

Lucky bastard.