Free Ghost Soldiers by Keith Melton

pitched than she expected.
    â€œI smell bad aftershave. So what?”
    â€œYou could go away for a long time,” Agent Toller warned. “We’ve been hearing some things about the…disagreements…certain Ricardis had with Stefano Lucatti and his people.”
    â€œSeems to me Stefano’s dead. Died in a fire. Perhaps you should take the hint.” Unwise to provoke cops and Feds, in fact, it was generally prohibited to even swear at them, but she’d made a career out of skating the line.
    And look where that got me . She ran a tongue over the tip of one fang. Fuck.
    Agent Jacobsen leaned toward her. “I don’t appreciate your attitude.”
    â€œI don’t appreciate being harassed, agents. I don’t get out often, and I’d like a little alone time, thanks.” She glanced at Agent Toller’s suit jacket. The butt of his pistol in a shoulder holster was barely visible where his jacket had opened. “I’m also scared of guns.”
    Agent Toller ignored her comment again. “We hear a lot of things from all around. Like maybe certain Kingmakers aren’t happy about you picking up your father’s banner.”
    She reached for her purse, deliberately not thinking about the money-stuffed envelopes inside. It would look very bad if they noticed. They hadn’t witnessed the handoff, otherwise they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. “I think it’s time I left. I don’t like you talking about my father.”
    Agent Toller caught her hand. She stopped pushing back her chair and looked at him. He must’ve seen something in her eyes, because he let her go so fast she’d have thought her skin had burned his fingers. God, had her eyes gone all glowy or something? She’d been working on suppressing that in public. Karl hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her she wasn’t ready to go gallivanting back among the living. Of course she’d ignored him, but maybe that had been another mistake.
    â€œLook, Ms. Ricardi, I don’t want to find your body floating in the Bay.”
    â€œDon’t worry. You won’t find my body.” She’d seen vampires die. She wouldn’t exactly make a mark, not even a stain on the carpet.
    He must have assumed she referred to mafia body disposal because he nodded as if he understood what she meant. “All right, have it your way. But we came here to offer you a deal. Work with us. We can protect you.”
    â€œYou’ve got to be kidding.”
    â€œNot at all. Your line of work, everybody ends up dead or strung out on eighty-year RICO charges. Think about it.”
    The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act had flayed the crime syndicates alive. A RICO charge was far from an idle threat, and certainly wasn’t something to fuck around with. But flipping? That was a fucking insult.
    â€œYou’ve mistaken me for somebody else. Do some research. Women don’t play in the bad-boy league.”
    Agent Toller’s eyebrows lifted, but he barreled on as if she hadn’t spoken. “We’ve even had bosses work with us to avoid dying in prison. Doing hard time isn’t romantic. A beautiful woman like you would be a hot commodity on the inside.”
    She didn’t answer.
    â€œWe want to help you.”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œHere’s my card.” Agent Toller held out a business card. She glanced at it but didn’t take it, and he set it down near her wineglass.
    â€œI don’t suppose you guys are going to pick up the tab?” She fluttered her eyelashes. Now it was their turn not to answer. She smirked, reached in her purse—a risky move with the cash envelopes inside—pulled out a hundred from her wallet and tossed it on the table. She stood to go.
    â€œYou’ll be seeing us around,” Agent Jacobsen said.
    â€œDon’t count on it.”
    She walked away, feeling