I shuddered, imagining Grandpa's wrath. As a member of The Greatest

Generation, he wasn't adverse to blowing shit up to get his way.

"The important thing is, he's okay."

"Betsy, what am I going to do? He hates it there. I mean hehates it. How can I keep my own father in a place that he hates?"

"You could revel in the payback for a horrible childhood?" I guessed.

"Elizabeth." On this, as in very few other things, my mom had no sense of humor. I guess when you spent your childhood dodging fists and trying not to get kicked down stairs, it wasn't much fun to joke about it later. "You're not helping."

"Come on, Mom, it's a nursing home. He's lucky he's not in a hospital.

Actually, he's lucky he's not dead."

"That's true," she said doubtfully.

"Although, if he's peppy enough to escape, he maybe could be moved some other place."

"Maybe. But where? Any place private is too expensive."

"Yeah." I looked over at Marc, who was tenderly touching Jessica's nose and murmuring to her. She in turn had just finished telling him a heartwarming Grandpa Joe story she had previously heard from me, probably the one involving grenades and the minister. "Listen, I've got an idea about that. My roommate, Marc, has a—"

"Oh, that clever doctor. Did I tell you I met the perfect man for him? He's a grad student, getting his doctorate in Japanese literature—"

"Yeah, that sounds really fun and useful. Listen, his father has this place—they must have some like it up where Joe is, but if not, maybe we could move him down here…"

"What kind of place?"

I told her. And that was how I ended up with my Grandpa Joe living four miles away from my vampire-infested house. Which may or may not, now that I look back, have been a greater hazard to my health than having my heart temporarily blown up by holy water.

I never did find out who had popped in for a surprise visit. Which was fine with me. More surprises, I so did not need.

Chapter 22

"You realize of course that, once he gets transferred down here, you'll have to visit him. When he was a four-hour drive away, that was one thing, but now you could walk there in ten minutes."

"Shut up," I moaned, "shut up, shutup ."

"I have to admit," Jessica went on cheerfully—why wouldn't she be cheerful, the swelling had gone down andher grandparents were dead. "I'm amazed he's still alive. Didn't they tell youlast year that he had only months to live?"

"Three months," I remembered. "They gave him three months." "Wow. And now here he's going to be living with Marc's father!"

"Yes, it's all a rich tapestry of horror and survival. Where's a perfectly made rainbow drink when you need one?"

"Marc's sleeping," she said, "and you can't blame him. Guy finally gets a day off, and spends it taking care of his roommates."

"Finally, having a doctor in the house pays off." "I know I'm feeling better—how about you?"

"Fine." Which was true. When I'd risen that afternoon, it was like nothing happened. If not for the ruined T-shirt and sports bra in the garbage, I'd guess nothing had happened.

Sinclair had seen for himself, pulling off my bra the minute our bedroom door had closed, going over my chest and back inch by inch. Which had turned into him going over my crotch inch by inch. Repeat as needed. The evening had turned out so terrific, it made it almost—

No, I didn't mean that. It wasn't worth it no matter how much sex I'd had. I didn't mind getting shot nearly as much as I minded Jessica and Delk getting hurt.

And oh, boy, the look on Delk's face in the kitchen as everything dawned on him. That was one I'd take to my grave. Assuming I ever went there for any other reason than to visit the currently premature tombstone.

"Delk will be back," Jessica said, trying to cheer me up.

"Yeah, I know. That's what I'm worried about."

The phone rang, and I gave the wall extension an ugly look. It rang again.

Jessica got up and said, "I know, you're not here. It might be about your grandpa's transfer… hello?"