Read Last Impressions (The Marnie Baranuik Files) for Free Online

what I was getting from Kill-Notch, so I’d take it. I lifted from my seat and went to the hall. Upon hearing Harry’s voice, Bob the Cat hurried from the office with an excited brrrrip ; I had to do some nifty footwork to dodge the furry missile underfoot. Harry finished removing his coat, hung it on the coat rack, took a moment to brush a speck of lint off the tweed, then bent to scoop the kitty up and cradle him like a baby. Bob attempted to purr and nibble Harry's caressing fingertips simultaneously. I couldn't blame him; that was always a good time.
    “Your invitations are needed, love,” Harry said.
    He wore one of his many impeccable dark suits, looking like he’d just arrived home from the Oscars but for the smudge of road grit on one knee. I looked past his dark shoulder at the front door, propped open to the cold night. Two unhappy paramedics waited with an unzipped black body bag on a stretcher. An ambulance sat quietly in the yard behind them. The dark-haired paramedic couldn’t meet my eyes. The other, a blond with a tight military buzz cut and tighter lips, had a glare that was sliding from hurry-the-hell-up to get-me-out-of-here.
    “Oh, Harry.” My shoulders fell. “I hate when you bring work home.”
    Harry’s chin lifted, and he wiggled some fingertips at me as if to show me how clean they were. “I am a gentleman, young lady; this is the first night I’ve had to work in three centuries. Besides, this began as your work, not mine.”
    I whispered, “Tell me there’s not half a revenant in that bag.”
    “Such a fuss you make,” he said. “You have already met our guest-to-be, Krystof Duchoslav, no middle name. Please do get on with it. I’m certain our medic friends would like to flee as soon as possible.” I opened my mouth to argue and Harry cut me off, prompting, “Krystof Duchoslav, you are…?”
    “Yes, I know how it goes,” I snapped. “What do you suggest we do with him?”
    “Wesley will care for Mr. Duchoslav during his recovery from this terrible incident,” Harry scolded, as though I were suggesting we dump him out back in the lake to sink or swim. “It will take your brother’s mind off his own injury.”
    “I—it’s just…” I floundered, and finally settled on, “Krystof Duchoslav, you are welcome in my home.”
    “Very nice, ducky.” Harry turned on the medics suddenly, who flinched at his eye-blurring speed. “Gentlemen, if you will kindly follow me into the basement.”
    Both paramedics stalled, and the Blue Sense opened to reveal a quiver of uncertainty tilting toward perfectly normal mortal fear. I’m sure that was Harry’s intention, and from the amused twinkle in his eye, he was enjoying toying with them. Harry stroked the kitten’s fuzzy belly and swept past me with a wink, Oxfords padding linoleum softly, leaving a lemony waft of 4711 cologne in his wake.
    I waved the paramedics in with a smile. “It’s okay, he’s just teasing; he won’t hurt you,” I assured them. “Thank you for bringing Mr. Duchoslav to Marnie’s All Night Vamp Camp cum Blood and Breakfast. I promise I almost never get people killed.” The Blue Sense reported that the humor wasn’t working. I spread my gloved hands as if to say no-weapons-for-realsies , although I’m sure it wasn’t me making them wary. “If it makes you feel safer, the guy at my kitchen table who looks like he’s auditioning for a porn reboot of Magnum P.I. is actually an FBI agent and vampire hunter.”
    The glaring blond in the rear got impatient and shoved the stretcher forward, bumping the guy who still wouldn’t look at me. Once in motion, they didn’t slow down. They hauled the stretcher past me into the pantry, where the door to Harry’s basement bedchamber was, and while they clattered down the stairs, pausing to lift the stretcher higher, and I returned to the kitchen to stare down Batten.
     He smirked around the mouth of his beer bottle, not bothering to hide his