Honeymoon of the Dead by Tate Hallaway Read Free Book Online

“Your passions were inflamed by the desire to rule the world together. Oh! It was totally Anakin Skywalker at the end of that movie we both hated.”
    “One of the Star Wars ones, was it? Ugh, tell me again why you insisted we go?”
    I was secretly kind of a fan girl, but I confessed the real reason to him: “Ewan McGregor is hot.”
    “Even in a bathrobe?”
    I shrugged. “I like you in a bathrobe.”
    “Hmm. Good point. I thought he looked scruffy.”
    “I thought you didn’t notice boys.”
    Sebastian flashed me a vaguely exasperated look and then rubbed his mouth with his hand. He let out a long breath before reaching for his wine. His eyes strayed to where his stalker sat sipping coffee. “I wish those conspiracy theory nuts would give up. It was several hundred years ago and, anyway, it’s over. The whole Illuminati thing with Adam was a fad, a flash. We disbanded in less than a decade. And, for the record, we called ourselves Perfectibilitists, not Illuminati.”
    “It’s no surprise that first one didn’t stick. Illuminati is a lot easier to say.” I smiled, taking a bite of my cooling fish. “Anyway, you don’t have to convince me.” I jerked my head in the direction of Sebastian’s stalker. “This—is it James? He’s the guy you need to convince.”
    “How likely is that?” Sebastian sighed, rubbing his forehead like he was developing a sudden headache.
    “This guy, is he dangerous?” I asked, stealing another glance at the very forgettable man in the ho- hum clothes, who seemed completely absorbed admiring the slow, soft drift of flakes outside the window. As I watched, he picked up a book and started reading. I could almost read the title, something about the secret architecture in America’s capital.
    “He could be,” Sebastian said. “Larry, my accountant, is very good at keeping people like James from connecting any dots. But it wouldn’t take much to blow my cover.”
    “No one would believe you’re a vampire,” I reminded Sebastian. “No way.”
    Most people didn’t know vampires were real. Or, more accurately, they were in denial.
    You see, there was a kind of veil that existed between the general populace and the truth about things that go bump in the night. If pushed, you might get a “rational” person to admit to having had an experience with a ghost or something else supernatural, but most of the time people just close their eyes and plug their ears, singing “la, la, la,” to the things that make up the majority of my everyday experience.
    It’s my opinion that’s why there is always a collective hunger for those cheesy, nonfiction exposés about haunted houses and reality shows featuring ghost hunters and psychics. It is because, on some level, everyone knows . They understand that this stuff is really out there just beyond their perceptions. All they really have to do is open their eyes.
    I closed mine for a moment and pinched the bridge of my nose. “But what I want to know is this: This James guy,” I said, “he’s not going to jump out of the bushes with a knife or anything, right?”
    “No,” Sebastian muttered glumly. “He’ll probably blog about me.”
    “Horrors,” I snickered. “Maybe he’s Twittering right now!”
    “Laugh it up, but it’s people like him that have kept me on the move my whole life and probably why the FBI put the screws to me.”
    “You think?” I’d mostly finished my fish and started in on the last of the veggies.
    “Those guys knew more about me than I would have liked.”
    “Really? Like what?” My mind filled with visions of stake-wielding, garlic-waving G-men in matching suit coats and ties: Homeland Security of the Dead!
    The waitress chose that moment to ask us if we found everything to our liking. We agreed that it was all lovely. She smiled pleasantly and after waiting another beat or two, finally moved to join a group of similarly dressed waiters loitering at the bar.
    “So what did they ask you?” I