Death's Excellent Vacation

by Charlaine Harris

  “What the devil is your game, wolfling?”

  “Shouldn’t that be Queen Wolfling?”

  “You should be keelhauled after what you did to those children last night.”

  “I had nothing to do with that,” I snapped. “Which should be clear even to you by now.”

  “What’s clear is that you’re playing some kind of game with people’s lives.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m just here on vacation? I don’t want the park to close. Why else would I spend the entire freaking day sniffing around for whoever it is who’s trying to ruin you?”

  He waved in silence for a moment. “You’re telling the truth? You really did that?”

  “Can’t vampires sense lies?”

  “That’s witches,” he said. “All I can do is glamour humans into telling the truth.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “But I do read body language, and yours . . . I believe you.”

  “Finally!”

  “Please accept my apologies for abducting you,” he said awkwardly.

  “And for hitting me over the head?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then,” I said magnanimously. “Apology accepted.”

  We waved more amiably for a minute, and then he said, “You must admit that having a werewolf show up is a remarkable coincidence.”

  “I suppose. I don’t know how many of us there are.”

  “None of the supernatural races are numerous—most of our numbers are in decline, and naturally women are particularly sought after.”

  That certainly helped explain why all the packs were so interested in me. Fresh blood and all that.

  “Well, I didn’t find anybody supernatural in the park today. Not that I’ve met enough to know what they’re supposed to smell like, but everybody I sniffed today was normal. Of course, that kind of thing is harder to do when I’m in human form.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Why would somebody be so set on putting you out of business anyway? Is it vampire politics? I’d heard the infighting can get pretty nasty.” I was basing that more on books I’d read than on the orientation I hadn’t paid attention to.

  “So I understand, but that doesn’t affect me.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have very little contact with my own kind.” I didn’t have to be an expert in body language to know he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure it’s not werewolves—that’s the one scent I know well. Witches? Ghouls? Space aliens?”

  “Space aliens? This may be a joke to you, but I’m in danger of losing the park.”

  “Sorry. I’m new to this. I’ve only been a werewolf for a few months. I’m not even in a pack yet.”

  “I thought you’d belong to the pack that Changed you.”

  “I was bitten by a rogue,” I said, though “bitten” was putting it mildly. “That means I get to pick a pack at the Gathering next month. That’s why I took this vacation—the packs have been courting me relentlessly.”

  “Naturally,” he said.

  I looked up at him in surprise. Had that been a compliment? I pushed the idea away. “But back to your problem. You said you have no enemies?”

  “Of course I have enemies. I’m over three hundred years old.”

  “You’re how old?” I did some figuring. “Jeez, were you really a pirate?”

  “Not by choice,” he said softly. “So I sympathize with your curse.”

  “My curse? You mean being a werewolf?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s not a curse—I love being a werewolf.” I loved roaming the woods with every sense on overload. I loved the strength in my body, the power in my movements. And God knew I loved being able to eat whatever I wanted and then run it off effortlessly. “The pack lifestyle is going to take some getting used to,” I admitted, “but being a werewolf rocks.” I was about to ask how he felt about being a vampire, but the float had come to the end of the route.

  Pirate Dave helped me descend much more gently than he’d helped me ascend.

  “I am sorry for suspecting you,” he said, “and when this is all over, I would very much like to spend more time with you.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve a cage.”

  “Not until we know each other better,” he said with the wicked grin that I’d dreamt of.

  It was the grin that made me reluctant to leave. “Isn’t there anything else I can do to help?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Not that I don’t appreciate your concern, but why? We’ve barely met.”

  “True, but in a way I’ve known you for years. My family used to come to Lake Bartholomew every year, and coming to the park was the best part.” I left out the part about praying I’d catch the golden doubloon. “I love this place.”

  He smiled incredibly sweetly. “Thank you.”

  Dave leaned forward, and I was sure I was about to have another part of my dream come true, but an employee came running up. “The Octopus is making funny noises!”

  With a quick squeeze of my hand, Pirate Dave took off, with the flunky trying in vain to keep up.

  I started to follow, then stopped to think about the possibilities. If the sabotage had just happened, then the saboteur might still be around, which meant I might have a shot at sniffing him out, but it wouldn’t hurt to improve my chances. I went to a nearby souvenir booth, grabbed what I needed, and threw money at the cashier on my way to the closest ladies’ room. It took only a minute to strip and stuff my belongings into the tote bag I’d just bought—a canvas number with Keep to the Code! emblazoned across it. After a moment’s consideration, I Changed into a Scottish terrier so as not to look threatening, then zipped out of the bathroom, dragging the bag behind me. The only one who noticed me was a little girl waiting while her parents argued over whether or not to stay for the fireworks.

  First I found some bushes to leave the bag under, hoping that nobody would find it. Then I pranced into the park, acting cute and friendly and perky as hell while I sniffed everybody I passed. I got whiffs of grape slushie, chocolate ice cream, numerous brands of sunscreen, and of course, body odor. I smelled smoke—both tobacco and other, beers that were being concealed in water bottles, and one diaper that really needed to be changed. But it was all human.

  A small crowd was gathered at the Octopus, but I didn’t smell any blood, which was a good thing, and there didn’t seem to be any signs of panic, just major annoyance. Dave was speaking earnestly to a barrelchested man with a sour expression, but the expression gradually turned almost jovial, and I had a hunch Dave was using the glamour that hadn’t worked on me.

  I’d always heard that criminals can’t resist returning to the scene of the crime, so I took my time sniffing all the people clustered about. I got popcorn and soda from the guests, and various metallic, oily, and acrid scents from the employees, presumably from running rides. But again, nothing supernatural.

  Eventually Pirate Dave saw me and did a double take. I wagged my tail furiously, hoping he’d realize it was me and not some random pooch. A couple of guests noticed me, too, and I heard a little boy say indignantly, “Dad, you said I couldn’t bring Hershey to the park! You said dogs weren’t allowed!”

  “That be my dog,” Pirate Dave said. “Ye must have heard tell of old sea dogs! That’s Salty, the Sea Dog!”

  Okay, the “old” part didn’t thrill me, but I barked appealingly and came to rub my head against Dave’s leg until he patted me. The kid seemed satisfied, and though I saw a couple of employees looking confused, apparently a brand-new mascot wasn’t enough to worry them in the middle of other concerns.

  Dave continued to appease the guests, using a mixture of glamour and comp tickets, while I worked the crowd. It took a good half hour for Dave to make everybody happy, and then he clapped the employees on the back, told them to keep up the good work, and whistled for “Salty” to come along.

  When we were out of e
verybody’s earshot, Dave said, “Did you find anything?”

  I understand some werewolves can manage speech in canine form, but I haven’t mastered the technique. So I whined in response.

  “Bugger!”

  After a quick stop for me to drag out my tote bag, which Dave then carried for me, he led me back to the admin building. Not the basement, I was happy to see, but his office. Unsurprisingly, it was decorated with nautical knickknacks and a glorious selection of Adventure Cove souvenirs.

  “I thought you could use a place to Change,” he said.

  I nodded, then looked at him expectantly. Eventually he got the idea and turned around. I quickly Changed back to human and pulled my clothes back on. “I’m sorry,” I said once I could speak again.

  “At least nobody was hurt this time,” he said, and sat at his desk. “The devil of it is that one of those people is a reporter. I tried to glamour him, but he’s a hard-nosed sort and I don’t think it took.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again.

  He rubbed his eyes wearily. “I may as well close the park down now and get it over with.”

  I really just intended to pat his shoulder comfortingly when I went to stand behind him. The one- armed hug was a natural extension. Ditto for stroking his back. I think I went over the line when I started playing with his hair, and inhaling that increasingly addictive scent of his was no help. But he’s the one who kissed me, and that was enough to set our course. Every man should practice kissing for three hundred years.

  We were about to move on to bigger and better things when there was a knock on the door. We hastily rearranged ourselves and our clothing, and Dave said, “Come in.”

  A man in coveralls with that same acrid smell I’d sniffed in the park came in. “I heard about the trouble earlier. You sure you want to go ahead with tonight’s show?”

  Dave shrugged. “We may as well. It’ll probably be the last, so make it a good one.”

  “You bet,” he said. As he turned, I saw a company logo on the back for “Great Balls of Fire Pyrotechnics.”

  After that, the mood was broken. “Time for one last Pirate Dave appearance,” he said. “Since you missed the fireworks last night, would you care to join me tonight?”

  “I’d love to.”

  We didn’t speak on the way to the fireworks pavilion. Of course, the fireworks would be visible from anywhere in the park, but the best place was the pavilion, a semicircle of bleachers in front of a small stage where Pirate Dave would announce the show. Directly behind the stage was the man-made lake that was the center of the park, and the moored barge from which the fireworks were shot.

  We were about halfway there when the silence got to me and for lack of anything else to talk about, I said, “I never realized gunpowder had such a distinctive odor.”

  “Oh?” Dave said politely.

  “I assume that’s what I was smelling on the pyrotechnics guy.”

  No response, not even an Arr, that be the way of it.

  “I’d never smelled anything like that before tonight, but I noticed it on one of the other fireworks guys out in the park.”

  “Hmm . . .” Dave said absentmindedly. Then he stopped. “What did you say?”

  “I said that fireworks smell really strong, and I noticed them on one of the employees earlier.”

  “None of the park employees have anything to do with the fireworks because of insurance regulations. We have a contract with a pyrotechnics company, and they never come until just before the show.”

  We looked at each other as we both came to the same awful conclusion. The saboteur had done something to the fireworks! Dave took off, moving so fast I could barely see him, let alone keep up.

  Since there was no way I could catch him, I ran into the nearest souvenir shop and buttonholed the salesclerk. “Have you got a walkie-talkie or a phone? Some way of getting in touch with security?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Tell them to stop the fireworks! Tell them there’s something wrong with them! Now!”

  I was going to have to tell Dave to give that gal a raise, because she didn’t even hesitate.

  I left her to it and started toward the pavilion. Then I stopped. Even if I could get to the fireworks in time, I wouldn’t know what to do when I got there, short of Changing and peeing on the lit fuses. Dave would take care of that part. In the meantime, I was willing to lay odds that the saboteur was waiting impatiently for disaster to strike. And I had his scent!

  I ran back into the souvenir shop, to the door marked Ship’s Crew-members Only. The cashier was busy on the phone and didn’t notice me ducking into the back room, but she sure noticed when I burst back out after Changing.

  Which way to go? I was going to assume that the saboteur was sticking around to see the havoc he’d caused, just as he had after the Octopus broke down. But I was also assuming he wasn’t suicidal, so he wouldn’t want to be too close to where the fireworks were going to explode or misfire or whatever he’d planned. Presumably he’d be somewhat close to the exit. What was the best place to watch the fireworks that was close to the exit?

  Had I still had fingers, I’d have snapped them. The crow’s nest! The mocked-up section of a ship where the daytime Pirate Dave stood was high enough to see the fireworks from and right in front of the exit. And, unfortunately, halfway across the park. Still, though I may not have been as fast as a vampire, I wasn’t exactly slow, and I was close enough to see a shadowy figure in the crow’s nest when the first firework went off. As the purple chrysanthemum lit up the sky, I saw he was dressed in black from head to toe, complete with a black face mask, like a ninja. Did ninja count as supernatural?

  I was listening for screams or some sign that something had gone wrong, but there was nothing. A minute later, I realized there’d been no second explosion either. Either Dave or the helpful cashier had stopped them in time!

  The saboteur must also have figured out his plan had gone awry because he clambered down the ladder and sprinted for the exit. I put on a burst of speed and tackled him, and both of us rolled over from the impact. Lucky for me, I ended up on top, straddling him and growling. He looked up at me, covered his face with his hands, and whimpered.

  Though I hated to admit it, just for an instant I felt a taste of that ravening beast Dave had accused me of being. I wanted to rip the bastard’s throat out, and I howled in pure triumph. Chihuahuas and Scotties are all well and good, but when you really want to make an impression, there’s nothing like a wolf.

  Before the temptation to rip and devour could take over, the guy fainted. And peed himself.

  That’s how Dave found us a few minutes later. Well, I’d switched back to Salty the Sea Dog, to keep from freaking out anybody else, but the saboteur was still unconscious. Dave took in enough of the situation to throw the guy over his shoulder without stopping to ask questions. I trotted along beside him until we got to his office.

  Dave said, “Do you want to Change to human?”

  I cleared my doggie throat and made a show of looking around. Though I was certainly considering the idea of being naked around Dave in the near future, it wasn’t the time.

  “Oh, sorry.” He rummaged in a drawer and found an Adventure Cove T-shirt big enough to cover the basics and turned his back while I Changed and pulled it on.

  “You stopped the fireworks in time?” I said, once I could.

  “Barely. The pyrotechnician said he would have gotten to the shell that would have burned down the park in another four minutes.”

  “Wow.”

  “I take it this is the saboteur.”

  “He smells like gunpowder, was standing in the crow’s nest watching the show, and started to leave after the second burst didn’t go off. And he’s dressed like a ninja. So I’m thinking yes.”

  “Shall we see who or what it is?” He grabbed the mask and pulled it down from the guy’s face. “Son of a whore!”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Don’t you?�
��

  I looked more closely but shook my head.

  Dave reached for a cheap felt tricorner hat and put it on the guy, and then I recognized him.

  “Oh my God, it’s Pirate Dave!”

  My Pirate Dave made a sound that was suspiciously close to one of my growls.

  “I mean, he’s the fake Pirate Dave.” The first time I’d seen this guy, he’d been dressed in full Captain Jack Sparrow regalia, greeting guests as they came into the park.

  The ninja started to stir and opened his eyes. “Where am I?” he croaked.

  Instead of answering, Dave fixed him with his gaze, and the hair on my arms stood up as the vampire spoke. “Why have you been ruining my park?”

  It was like he’d flipped a switch, and the ninja—whose real name was Randy—let it all come out. “It’s your fault! If you’d let me take the night shift once in a while, I wouldn’t have done anything!” He saw me watching. “Great, another one of your Sea Queens. How many do you need, dude? Couldn’t you share? If you’d let me throw the effing doubloon once in a while, I could have gotten a piece of that.”

  “As if!” I sniffed.

  Randy went on. “How long does a guy have to work here to get a shot at the Sea Queens? Ever since high school, I’ve worked my ass off all summer long. When I hit college, I could have gotten a nice cushy internship, but no, I came back here to play Pirate Dave. Only you wouldn’t let me take the night shift, not once. For three summers, I’ve been sweating buckets in that damned wig while you swoop in as soon as it cools off and make off with the Sea Queens. Next year I graduate and get a real job, so this was my last chance. All I wanted was for you to switch shifts with me for one lousy season! But you wouldn’t even discuss it! Why wouldn’t you let me have a shot?”

  Of course, it was obvious why once you knew Dave was a vampire, but just as obviously, Randy didn’t know.

  “I thought if there were problems in the park, you’d be too busy to dress up every night, and you’d have to give me a shot.” He went on to describe how his years in the park had taught him the best ways to cause trouble and how to dodge the security guards. “But no matter what I did, you had to keep the spotlight to yourself. The park was going to close, and you didn’t care. Even when those kids got hurt, you still had to be in the parade!”