Undead and Unappreciated Read Online Free Page B

during graveyard shift (years before I knew what the graveyard shift really was), and no matter how much I slept during the day, I always wanted a nap around four a.m. “We’ll be in touch.”
    â€œNo problem,” I replied, walking them to one of the house’s sixty doors. “Talk to you soon. And congratulations again.”
    They said their good-byes, the door shut, and I turned to see Sinclair had followed me. “He asked her to marry him?” he asked, staring after them thoughtfully.
    â€œYeah,” I replied. “You should try it sometime.” Then I walked past him and marched up the stairs to my bedroom.

Chapter 4
    W hich was really stupid, because I had work to do tonight. I had to check on Scratch and the Fiends. So I pushed up my bedroom window, popped the screen, stuck a leg over the windowsill, and jumped.
    One of the few nice things about being dead is it’s pretty much impossible to die again. So a three-story fall was no problem at all. It didn’t hurt; it didn’t even knock the breath (what breath?) out of me. It was like jumping off the bed.
    I hit the grass, rolled, stood up, shook the dead leaves out of my hair, examined the grass stain on my left knee…then remembered I’d forgotten my keys and my purse, and went to ring the front doorbell.
    Finally, I was in my car, headed to my nightclub, Scratch.
    It wasn’t really mine. Okay, it was, by vampire law, which was confusing. The way it worked was, if you kill a vampire, all their property becomes yours. Vampires generally don’t have kids or families to leave stuff to, and probate only happens during daylight hours anyway. So, I’d killed this rotten vampire, Monique, and she owned, like, eight businesses, and now they were all mine, but the only one I was really interested in was Scratch. I had Jessica’s accountant put all the others—the school, the French restaurant, the Swiss spa (that one hurt to let go)—up for sale. Tried to, anyway. It was complicated not least because I couldn’t prove I legally owned them. And, like a stubborn ass, I didn’t want Sinclair’s help. If they sold, I’d worry about what to do with the money later. Meanwhile, I was trying to hang on to Scratch, but it wasn’t easy.
    I was glad Monique was gone—well, dead. And not because I got her car and her businesses. Not just because of that. Monique had been bad, even for a vampire. She’d tried—repeatedly—to kill me, but worse, she’d killed other vampires to get to me. And she’d ruined my shirt. She had to go.
    I’d been a secretary and office manager for years before I died, so managing a nightclub—handling the paperwork, anyway—was something I could actually do. Probably. If the other vampires would give me a chance. Trouble was, they hated my guts. I guess employee loyalty was big in the vampire world. They were pretty pissed that I’d offed the boss.
    Not that any of them told me that in so many words. No, they kept their gazes averted and didn’t speak to me unless spoken to. This made it easy to give orders but tough to strike up a conversation.
    So I pulled up outside the club—it looked like an old brownstone, except with valet parking—and went inside. Deader than shit (no pun intended), as usual.
    â€œOkay, well,” I told one of them…I was having the worst time remembering their names. Probably because they never volunteered them. And vampires didn’t go for those blue and white HELLO MY NAME IS ———stickers. “We’ve got to get customers to start coming here again.”
    â€œYour Majesty knows how to do that,” he replied, staring over my shoulder, which always made me think there was a monster sneaking up on me. Maybe there was. He was about my height, and about my coloring—blond, with light eyes—long slender fingers, and (no joke!) a slight