Zen and the Art of Vampires by Katie MacAlister Read Free Book Online Page A

way—what’s the last thing you remember?” I asked.
    â€œWe were on the ship,” Karl said.
    â€œYes, I got that part. But what happened to the ship?”
    The pair glanced at each other.
    â€œI don’t understand,” Karl said. “We were on the ship. The old lady said to look for you, and we found you.”
    Clearly the trauma of their deaths had left them drifting, both figuratively and literally, and they didn’t remember the transition between life and the afterlife.
    I made a little face to myself at how quickly I’d become accustomed to the idea of ghosts and an afterlife, but I had to admit, the evidence was even now staring hopefully at me. “OK. We’ll just let that go. While I’m looking, why don’t you two go down to the café on the main square. I’ll meet you there when I find out where it is you’re supposed to go.”
    â€œCafé?” Marta asked.
    I gave them directions on where to find it, and reiterated that I would meet them there. “I’ve got a few things to take care of first,” I said, straightening slowly as I verified that the street was clear of Mattias. “But just as soon as I can, I’ll try to find someone who knows what’s going on. Sound good?”
    â€œAnd if the other should come, the Ilargi?” Karl asked, clearly worried. “He will steal our souls!”
    â€œThat’s not good.” I made a little face as I thought. “Um . . . run away?”
    That evidently satisfied them, because they nodded and thanked me, drifting off down the street until they disappeared into the night. I noted with interest that the second they disappeared from my view, the glowing silver moon dangling from my wrist changed back into a moonstone hanging on a silk cord.
    â€œToo strange,” I told the bookmark. “But right at this moment, I’m not going to try to figure you out. I’ve got to get myself out of this predicament with Mattias, and much as I’d like to hunker down, staying in one spot might be asking for trouble if he comes back to look closely at the church. Better get a move on now Pia.”
    There’s really no use talking to yourself if you’re not going to listen to your own advice, so I did as I was told, and crawled up the narrow stairs to the street, glancing around quickly to make sure the woman in charge of the cult hadn’t been following us, before heading off in the direction opposite the one Mattias had taken.
    The threat of a stitch in my side blossomed to full life a couple of blocks later, leaving me clutching my side and limping (for some reason, limping made me feel better). Holding the paperback books and my bag made it difficult to try to ease the pain in my side, so I dumped the books into the nearest trash can, hesitating for a moment over the pretty moonstone bookmark. Part of me wanted to dump it, as well, and wash my hands of anything to do with crazy moonstone cults, frightened ghosts, and lusty Icelanders, but the moral part of my brain pointed out that it wasn’t really mine to throw away, and the least I could do was try to find its rightful owner. It was entirely within reason that whoever it belonged to could help Karl and Marta.
    â€œMaybe the bookseller will know,” I murmured as I reclaimed the bookmark from the top of the trash, but as I did so, a cold chill ran down my back.
    The top book was, as I had told the Frenchwoman who had plowed into me earlier, a mystery, but beneath it lay the Regency romance I’d snatched up. I hadn’t really looked at the cover, since I had a love of Regencies, but I saw now that the two people gracing the cover were depicted dancing. “Dancers on the cover . . . oh, no. Now what am I going to do?”
    I grabbed the book and stuffed it into my bag, wondering if there was any chance I’d find the woman in the holiday crowd.
    â€œWhat a mess,” I murmured, and