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do anything, but when I tried to turn it on it got all weird and bright for a second, and now it’s glued to me or something.”

Milo squinted through his glasses. “Huh . . .  Part of it actually disappears into your palm. It’s got to be fused with her bones.”

“What?” Sonya sounded really worried.

“Does it hurt?” Milo asked.

“No.”

“Cool . . .  Sorry. I imagine that’s kind of horrifying, but it’s also kind of amazing what those inventors came up with back in the old days.” Milo ran one gloved hand across the numbers visible across the top of the Ward. They seemed to quiver with a life of their own, but just like when I tried, they wouldn’t move to a different setting. “Yep. This is the real deal alright. A little more compact than our old one, and that one never bonded itself with anyone’s flesh as far as I know. Nifty.”

“That is not nifty. Make it come off.”

“I don’t know how.” Milo reluctantly let go of the Ward. “Sorry. We’ll have to research that.”

Boone cut in. “This chick and her pet rock sound like an Alabama team problem. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make sure this lich is really dead and then try to figure out how many reptoids got buried. This PUFF check is going to kick ass.”

“But the lich killed the reptoids, not us,” Trip pointed out.

“The MCB doesn’t need to know that.”

After Boone left it was just those of us who’d been in the barn clustered together. Milo stopped examining the Ward long enough to ask, “You guys okay? Anybody bitten?”

Everybody checked. We were professional Monster Hunters. There wouldn’t be any of that “hide the bite until you suddenly turn on your friends” nonsense with us. If a Hunter got zombie-bit, then it was time to take Old Yeller behind the barn, or go out in a suicidal blaze of glory, depending on that Hunter’s last wishes. There was no cure for a zombie bite . . . Well, except for me once, but to be fair, I’d been trying for the blaze of glory way out at the time.

We all trusted each other. As everyone said they were fine, we all believed them. However, none of us trusted Sonya.

“I didn’t get bitten.” She was filthy, covered in dust and cobwebs, but didn’t appear to be bleeding. “I don’t know if that would work on me anyway.”

“Bummer. I was hoping for an excuse to shoot you,” said Holly.

“Who are you anyway, lady?” Sonya snapped. “Have we met before, or are you just this bitchy to everybody younger and prettier than you?”

“Oh, look at that, the shape-shifting skank wants to catch an ass beating.”

“No. I just want this thing off of me, so I can sell it and get paid. I stole it first, fair and square.”

“You’re not selling shit.” Holly wasn’t in the mood for her nonsense. “My people have had to stick our necks out twice to save your stupid life today.”

“I wouldn’t be sticking that old turkey neck of yours out anywhere people might see it.”

Holly just laughed, because she was smoking hot and knew it. “I’ve got a PhD in Mean Girl Politics, twerp. Nothing that comes out of your fake-ass face is going to get a rise out of me.”

“My face and ass are less fake than those tits.”

“You mouthy little shit . . . â€ť

I briefly wondered if I’d have to tackle Holly to keep her from murdering Sonya. Trip and I exchanged a nervous glance, but he whispered, “Not it.”

“Ladies, there’s no need for confrontation.” Milo—ever the gentleman—stepped between Sonya and certain death. “We can work this out like civilized—”

Sonya moved with supernatural speed, caught Milo by his long red beard, and spun him around to use as a human shield. She was so fast that poor Milo never even had a chance. She must have had Trip’s tomahawk hidden on her the whole time, because she stuck the blade under Milo’s neck. “Back off!”

I was tired and possibly concussed, so it took me a moment to realize what she was doing. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m taking the stone out of here. If you can’t fix this, maybe the Secret Guard can. Once we’re down the road, I’ll let him go.”

“Uncool.” Milo said. “Very uncool.”

Sonya began backing Milo toward the stolen Hyundai.

“Oh, come on, you idiot,” Holly said as she casually aimed her carbine at Sonya’s face. “We just nuked a lich. You really want to try us?”

“Don’t make me hurt him.”

I sighed. This was probably the most pathetic hostage situation ever, with about a zero point zero percent chance of success for the hostage taker. Boone’s Hunters had heard the commotion and were spreading out and shouldering weapons. Sonya struck me as someone young, brash, and in a situation way over her head, but I really didn’t want to see her get that head blown off, so I keyed my radio. “Everybody be calm.” Then I addressed our overachieving hostage taker. “Think this through. This can’t possibly work. If you hurt him, everybody here is going to shoot you. A lot.”

“Yeah, we all really like Milo,” Holly said. “You should have taken Z hostage. He’s way less popular.”

“True that. I’m not nearly as cuddly as Milo.”

“It’s all in the beard,” Milo squeaked.

Sonya’s eyes were darting back and forth, taking in the many well-armed Hunters prepared to shoot her, and surely realizing that she done fucked up. “Wait. Milo? The Milo? Milo Anderson?”

“That’s me.”

“Oh, shit! You were one of my dad’s best friends.”

“Yep. I sure was.”

“Which would make you slicing his head off before being cut down in a hail of gunfire extra tragic.” I slowly stretched my open hand out, trying hard to not make a tense situation a whole lot worse. “So how about you give me back Trip’s happy little murder ax and we chalk this up to a big misunderstanding.”

She wasn’t ready to give up quite yet, so she played the desperate negotiation card. “I really need that money, Opie. Let me sell the

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