Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles Read Online Free

fierce in Commando stapled on a chunky tree and frowned.  Out of two rounds she’d managed to shoot the
     lower edges of the poster.  Not one hit.
    “Ah, sharren.  You just need to work on your aim,” he said encouragingly.  “I myself
     couldn’t shoot worth shite, but I worked on it.  Now I’m a little better than before.”
    Poe squinted at Maclemar’s Dirty Harry gun and shook her head.  “What did I tell you
     about heavy, antiquated six-shooters like that, Maclemar?  That gun is hella slow
     to load, and it’s gonna get me killed if you’re going to be my bodyguard.  I swear,
     between you and Morales—”
    “This gun is tops.  And Morales did give it to me.  Don’t you start that again,” he
     said with a shudder.  “Now about the bodyguard remark, does this mean you’re coming
     back with me?”
    “If you don’t mind a useless girl who lost her spirit and would probably never sleep
     with you,” she said in all seriousness.
    “Fine with that, sweetheart,” he shrugged.  “As long as there’s ‘probably’ then there’s
     hope.  Now mosey on back to the cottage before my only asset freezes over and falls
     off.”
    “Right.  Plus I’m going to need you to chop my hair off.  Can’t look fierce with long,
     girly hair.”
     

CHAPTER 3
     
     
    M ACLEMAR WANTED TO LIE down and die during the grueling session cutting Poe’s thick hair to a more manageable
     shoulder length. 
    “I can’t believe you had me desecrate your beautiful hair,” he said.  He brushed away
     hair trimmings from her neck.
    “It’s only hair.  It’ll grow back,” she grunted.  She couldn’t help her insecure mind
     and a moment later asked, “Do I look awful?”
    “Nope.  You look snappy, but I’d gotten used to your lustrous hair.”  The way Maclemar
     gave his answer earned him a punch in the gut.
    “Ouch!  What do you care anyway?  You’re going to pull your hair into a ponytail after
     I finish brushing.”  And indeed, Poe took a hair band from her wrist and tied up her
     hair.
    “I’m ready to go now,” said Poe.  She got up from the chair and pinched Maclemar’s
     cheek.  “Gracias.”  She stuffed another pair of sweater in her pack and slung it over
     a shoulder.
    “Sure you’re not forgetting anything?”
    “Only my sanity.” 
    A metal barrel crashed through the bay windows of the cabin, causing all three inhabitants
     to jump out of their skin.  Penny began running in circles like a mad dog.  Poe reached
     for the pair of Blackhawks in her shoulder holster, and Maclemar fished in his jacket
     for his six-shooter. 
    “Hell on earth!  I think I was followed, sharren,” whispered Maclemar.
    “Well that’s not your fault.”  Poe resheathed one of her guns and went through the
     closet in the hall.  She picked up an angular machete she’d forged in one of her pathetic
     attempts at swordsmithing.
    She checked her wrist knives and exhaled a breath just in time for a Molotov cocktail
     to splatter the west wall. 
    Maclemar grabbed Penny and kicked open the back door to the mini-garden.  “C’mon,
     Poe!  The cabin’s burning!”  Poe didn’t have to be told twice and secured her pack
     on her shoulder while blinking the smoke from her eyes.  She followed Maclemar outside,
     and both coughed from the acrid smoke. 
    They hovered three feet in the air.
    A rather chubby undead in green plaid under a medieval-looking tunic with a red cross
     on the front stared Poe down.  Her companion, a haggard brunette with thinning hair
     and the same type of gray tunic sized her up.
    “Sally and Bette,” hissed Maclemar.  “What the hell?”
    Sally, the big-boned grunge Generation X-er spoke clearly so there would be no mistaking
     her motive.  “She stays on this island or she dies.”
    Bette smiled and said, “This morning we saw she can’t shoot worth shit.  She’s no
     match for us.”
    Maclemar put Penny down.  “Your politics are Downtown,”