“They are bored,” she said, shoveling food onto my plate until I raised a hand to defend it. “And Tilde is very angry to be kept. Carla will not pay them for the hours.” I rolled my eyes. With so much competition, Carla wasn’t raking in the dough, but damn if she wasn’t tight with her margins. I was glad not to be trapped in the garage with the two runners and the boss. Mickey’s apartment, while small, was quiet and comfortable. “And…” Mickey’s voice rose half an octave. Her eyebrows knit together as she listened, still nodding as though Jace could see it. She turned toward me. “There’s been another body. A dead-ender in a mansion in the hills.” Her nose scrunched up and she pressed the cell phone against her chest and whispered, “His fangs were still out.” I almost dropped my fork. “A dead sucker?” She nodded and we stared at each other. “Wait, if there’s a body—if he hasn’t burned—then how can anybody tell if he’s actually, truly dead?
