The female vamp twisted its face, trying to mimic Jeff’s expression. “Very funny, Leonard. You’re a fucking comedian.”

“We had a route mapped out, but no, you had to go off the reservation because you smelled some phantom blood somewhere.”

“We’re supposed to patrol. I’m patrolling because it’s our job, Leonard. If you don’t want to patrol, you can go up to that bigwig and tell him that. Just let me know in advance so I can take pictures when he tears off your nuts and makes you eat them.”

“Alright, alright, calm down.” The male vamp peered into the gloom. “Suppose we do find the shapeshifters. Do we go to Ghastek or do we go to d’Ambray with it?”

“To Ghastek,” Jeff said.

“Yeah, but d’Ambray is higher on the food chain. You can tell Ghastek’s pissed, but he keeps his mouth shut. You know. We could get ahead.”

“And what happens when d’Ambray leaves and Ghastek’s back in charge?” Jeff said.

Get out of here. Go on. Shoo.

“No guts, no glory.” Leonard must’ve shrugged, because his vampire raised his shoulders in a jerky movement.

“We cover our asses and follow the chain of command. Nobody ever went wrong by following the chain of command,” Jeff said.

Something clopped in the shadows. Oh no.

The vamps tensed, like two mutated cats getting ready to pounce.

Cuddles emerged into the open. I had completely forgotten she was there.

Robert put his hand over his face. Desandra rolled her eyes.

“What the hell is that?” Jeff said.

Why me? Why?

“It’s a horse,” Leonard said.

“Are you blind? How is that thing a horse? Its ears are two feet tall.”

“Then it’s a mule.”

“It’s not a mule. The neck’s wrong and the tail . . .”

“What about the tail?”

“Mules have horse tails. He’s got a donkey tail. Like a cow. It looks like a donkey, but the damn thing is at least sixteen hands tall. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s a mule. It’s got a saddle on it, so someone was riding it.”

The male vamp moved forward.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to catch it and see who it belongs to.”

Argh.

Cuddles put her ears forward.

“It doesn’t look friendly,” Jeff observed.

“It’s fine. If she had her ears back, you’d have to watch out. It’s all in the voice. Watch and learn. Come ’ere, girl. Come ’ere . . . Who is a good freaky mule? You are.”

The male vamp inched forward. Cuddles stood just a little bit straighter.

“That’s a good girl.”

The vamp reached for the reins. Its fingers fastened about the leather.

Cuddles screamed. It wasn’t a braying noise, it was an ear-slapping shriek of pure donkey outrage, like someone got hold of a foghorn and tried to strangle it.

“Whoa . . .” Leonard started.