Free Undead and Unreturnable by MaryJanice Davidson

and his green eyes brightened. "Hi, guys!"
     
    I was torn. On the one hand, as he was generally a depressed individual with big problems (gay, dying father, premature balding), I was always happy to see him happy. We had met when he was moments from throwing himself from the top of the hospital at which he worked too many hours. I talked him out of jumping and took him home. He'd been hanging out with us ever since. And in the past few months, he'd had his dad set up at a great private—I guess it was a hospice, except it was a private home, and the nurse who lived there only took care of three people. So it wasn't like being stuffed in a nursing home. Anyway, he'd gotten his dad squared away and visited him as often as he could stand (I guess it was kind of a strained relationship), he'd gotten a new boss at work, he was growing out his hair, and he'd had a date in the last five weeks.
     
    On the other hand, I wanted him nowhere near Marjorie. Marc was like a puppy around vampires… had no clue how totally friggin ' dangerous they really were.
     
    "So what's doing? What are you guys up to? What's going on?" Arf , arf , sniff, sniff, sniff.
     
    Marjories delicate nostrils flared. "Your pet smells like blood."
     
    "Yeah, kid fell out of his tree stand and bonked himself a good one," Marc said cheerfully, ignoring—or not hearing—"pet." "Bled all over me. I had to get a new scrub top, but man, do I need a shower. Hi, by the way," he added, sticking out his hand. "I'm Marc Spangler. I live here with Betsy and Eric."
     
    She looked at the hand like he'd offered her a dead garter snake, and I could feel my eyes widen, practically bulge in their sockets. I got ready to rip her a new asshole—what was it with old vampires and being so shitty to regular people?—when Sinclair's hand clamped over mine… hard.
     
    I yelped just as Marjorie decided to shake Marc's hand. "You live here with them?" she asked.
     
    "Yup," he replied cheerfully. "It's not home, but it's much. Olivia Goldsmith wrote that, by the way."
     
    " Mmmm . She's the one who died of liposuction, yes?"
     
    "No," he corrected. "She died of complications after lipo ."
     
    "I see. If you live here with them, why do you go to a job?"
     
    "Uh…" He actually thought it over for a couple seconds. "Because I'm not a two-legged parasite?"
     
    " Mmmm ." She caught the neckline of his scrub top and pulled; with a squeak, he bent down to her. He had a foot and thirty pounds on her, but she manhandled him (no pun intended) easily, like he was a mannequin made of feathers. "But you
haven't
been bitten," she said to his neck. "Yet. Mmmm …"
     
    I opened my mouth.
Take your fucking hands off him NOW
was already in my head and trying to rush out of my mouth when Sinclair squeezed again. I groaned instead; I could feel the little bones in my hand grinding together. He wasn't hurting me, but I sure wouldn't want to spend a day doing that.
     
    "Marjorie, don't you have business to be about?" he asked calmly.
     
    Totally distracted, she looked up, and I was shocked to see her fangs had come out. "Eh? Oh." It was obvious, when she let go and Marc popped back upright, that she was massively disappointed. "Yes, of course. Forgive me. I haven't dined yet this evening, and it's made me forget my manners. I will take my leave."
     
    "Nice to meet you!" Marc chirped. And as she bowed and then let herself out the front door, I looked at Marc and saw it: he didn't remember the last minute. He'd had no sense of being in danger, no sense of inappropriateness or cruelty from Marjie . As far as he was concerned, he'd met a nice older lady on his way in, and now he was going to grab a shower.
     
    "I think I'll go grab a shower," he said. "Later, guys."
     
    I started to have a dim idea why Sinclair had a) gotten rid of Jess, b) been polite under extreme provocation, and c) didn't let me hang myself.
     
    "I hope you took a good look, dear," he said, listening to the car drive