One venue after another canceled, and Monster Paul and the Zombie Freak Show were grounded before their tour began. I felt bad for Tina, but she’d be okay. She had a safety career. Demon fighting? Nah, that was last week’s safety career. Now she was writing her memoirs. Working title: Tina Terror: The Zombie Who Saved Boston, Broke Some Hearts, and Almost Went on the Road.
“ ‘ Broke some hearts’?” I’d asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“You don’t know everything about me,” she’d snapped, then grinned. “Anyway, by the time I write that part it’ll probably be true.”
If the title was any indication of her writing skills, I had a feeling she’d be begging me to take her back as my apprentice soon.
The door opened, and Kane entered, brushing snowflakes from the shoulders of his coat. He came over, swept me into a hug, and nuzzled my neck in a way that made me glad I was already sitting down.
“How was your trip?”
“Smooth. Not a single Glitch.” His smile reminded me how much I’d missed him. “I packed some of that hairspray in my carry-on, just in case.”
“I’ll never travel without it again.”
Kane took off his scarf and coat and draped them over a bar stool. He ordered scotch. Axel brought it, then wandered to the other end of the bar to snag a section of the newspaper.
Kane rummaged in his coat pocket and pulled out a square box, wrapped in shiny blue paper with a silver bow. He presented it to me with a flourish.
“For you.”
“A present?” Uh-oh, had I forgotten some anniversary? At Kane’s urging, I untied the silver ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a watch, the exact same model as the one Difethwr had destroyed.
I threw my arms around him. “It’s perfect! I can’t wait to try it out at work.” I’d scheduled a couple of Drude exterminations for next week. I tried to put the watch on, but the strap slid off my wrist. “Um, what’s the occasion?” I asked, still nervous I’d forgotten some important date.
“There has to be an occasion?” He caught the strap and fastened the buckle, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin over my pulse. I shivered with the deliciousness of it. “It’s not your birthday.” His gray eyes looked deep into mine as his fingertips stroked my wrist. “It’s not an anniversary.” He leaned in close, his lips grazing my ear. “Let’s call it a beginning.”
THE NEXT DAY, ANOTHER POSTCARD FROM JULIET ARRIVED. This one showed an ancient-looking brick house with a stone balcony jutting from a second-story window. “Juliet’s balcony, Verona, Italia,” the postcard claimed. I smiled, remembering the real Juliet’s indignation when she told me she hadn’t even lived on the street where her supposed house was now a popular tourist site. The postcard had been mailed from Melbourne, Australia.
At first, I didn’t see the message. But tiny characters at the bottom of the card spelled out WT II ii 65-66. Right away, I knew what to do.
I took down The Complete Works of William Shakespeare and scanned its table of contents. There it was: The Winter’s Tale. WT. I paged through the book until I found Act II, Scene 2, lines 65 and 66:
Do not you fear: upon mine honour,
I will stand betwixt you and danger.
“Oh, Juliet,” I said to the empty apartment. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Holzner grew up in western Massachusetts with her nose stuck in a book. This meant that she tended to walk into things, wore glasses before she was out of elementary school, and forced her parents to institute a “no reading at the dinner table” rule. It was probably inevitable that she majored in English in college and then, because there were still a lot of books she wanted to read, continued her studies long enough to earn a master’s degree and a PhD.
She began her career as a medievalist, then jumped off the tenure track to try some other things. Besides teaching English and philosophy, she’s worked as a technical writer, freelance editor, instructional designer, college admissions counselor, and corporate trainer.
Nancy lives in upstate New York with her husband, Steve, where they both work from home without getting on each other’s nerves. She enjoys visiting local wineries and listening obsessively to opera. There are still a lot of books she wants to read.
Visit Nancy’s Web site at www.nancyholzner.com.
Ace Books by Nancy Holzner
DEADTOWN
HELLFORGED
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