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“You really wanted to kiss me?” She sounds very young and very insecure.

I turn back to her. “Yes.”

“But I’m ugly.”

“And I’m grotesque.” I force a smile. “I might get the kiss, but once my pants come off I get the kiss-off.”

“It can’t be more horrible than this.” She gathers the fat, bristly tail into her arms and stares down at it. “I’m sorry I got so weird. I just haven’t been kissed in a long, long time. He never kissed me at BICC. He just fucked me.” I can barely hear her now. “He never stayed to see the kids. He never came to say good-bye to them when they . . . when they . . .” Her voice is thick with unshed tears.

I take her in my arms and this time she doesn’t pull back.

They’re absolutely delightful. Four. Three girls and a cocky imp of a boy. It amazed me how quickly it happened after we made love, and alarmed me how much pain Niobe endured. I held her as the eggs were deposited and we watched together as they hatched.

The black-haired, blue-eyed boy clambers up onto the bed and gives Niobe a hug. “Hi, Mom.” She hugs him back fiercely.

Two of the girls join us on the bed. The joker is tiny and having trouble with the big four-poster. I pick her up and set her on the bed. She’s charming. She’s like those pewter and enameled figurines of fairies with shimmering translucent wings that flash in the sun like an opal, feathery antenna over her eyes, and pointed little ears that poke up through a profusion of lavender-colored hair.

Niobe is looking distressed. “I can’t remember. I think I was up to ‘D.’ ”

I remembered something from the reports from BICC, how they worked their way through the alphabet so they could keep the test subjects straight. My spine stiffens.

“No, these are our kids. We get to name them.” She looks frightened, then delight brightens her face and shines in her eyes. She looks up at me shyly, her arms are full of children. “You should name your son.”

I feel taller and broader and I realize I’m preening like a bantam cock. “Gabriel.”

Niobe nods in agreement, but Gabriel pipes up. “You better not call me Gabe.”

I give a bark of laughter. Niobe kisses the dark hair of two of the girls. “Delia and Bethany.”

I pick up my delicate princess. “And Iolante.” Her arms go around my neck. “Let’s go show your grandfather,” I say.

Woulda

Caroline Spector

I REALLY NEED TO get a new job.

Oh, I could handle the crazy hours and never having a moment to myself. But zombies? Christ, no one ever said anything about zombies.

I looked up from where we were working on the levees and saw a row of the ugly buggers watching us.

Earth Witch, Gardener, and Cameo (channeling Simoon today) were working with a Corps of Engineers guy to shore up the levees. I was too far away to hear what he was saying, but Earth Witch nodded after a while, then knelt down and put her hands on the ground.

A trench opened up a few feet away from her. But it wasn’t a deep one. It was low and wide and looked more like what you’d get from a bulldozer. Dirt flew from the edges as it sped toward the levee. A mass of earth was forming at the front of the trench. Enough dirt and they could do a decent patch on the weakened portion.

Cameo began to whirl. Even though the ground was still pretty wet, she managed a decent—if kinda slow and muddy—dirt devil. She spun toward the front of the trench and dropped a load of dirt on top.

Gardener pulled a pouch from her belt and ran to the edge of the water. Earth Witch and Cameo’s efforts had paid off. There was a substantial mass of earth bolstering the weakened side of the levee. Gardener opened her hand and threw some of the seeds out. They began to grow as they flew through the air. By the time they hit the mud, they were ready to root.

Cypress, live oak, and magnolia trees soared into the air. Their roots grabbed at the earth like gnarled hands, intertwining and sinking into the mud. Gardener threw a few more handfuls of seeds, and reeds and water plants began to fill in where it was still bare. In minutes, what had been stripped away by Harriet was lush vegetation.

Earth Witch flopped down to the ground. Cameo dropped next to her. “God, how many more of these are we going to have to do?” Earth Witch asked. Sweat was pouring off her. I was supposed to be her friend, but right now I couldn’t afford friends. Nothing I liked more than being head asshole.

My cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and saw it was Bugsy. I slipped away because I didn’t want Cameo (or Simoon or whoever of the smorgasbord that could potentially come through her) to know it was him. It rarely ended well when team members slept with each other—and Cameo/Simoon/Bugsy had added new twists to an old story. What a cluster fuck—as it were. Oh, and color me less than thrilled at having to deal with the not-quite-as-dearly-departed-as-I-thought via Cameo. I think the dead should stay dead. I’m wacky that way.

I walked to where it was a little quieter, and answered. “What’s up?” I asked.

“We’ve been able to get help from Mayor Connick’s office,” he said. “We’re coordinating our efforts with his. They even gave Holy Roller a block of time to broadcast evacuation instructions. They’ll replay that speech every hour.”

I let a bubble float up from my hand and hover above my palm. “Did you get the evacuation website up and running?”

I could almost hear him sigh. “Yes, of course I did,” he said. “Honestly, you’d think I was a massive screw-off the way you treat me.”

I let the bubble go and watched as it slowly rose into the air, drifting higher and higher.

“I don’t think you’re a screw-off, Bugsy,” I said. I was leaning backward, to keep an eye on the bubble. “I think you’re a massive smartass. Big difference. How’s the preacher doing?”

“If you like long-winded speeches with loads of references to Jay-sus, then he’s doing great.”

Suddenly Bugsy started giggling.

“What’s happening?” I asked. This was hardly the time for laughing.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just found a YouTube video of Holy Roller with fart noises inserted into his praise Jesus stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. We were trying to evacuate the city for a second time, and Bugsy was looking at fart videos.

“Send me a link,” I said.

I was checking my e-mail on my phone when the TV crew finally arrived. I’d asked Ink if she could find anything out about Niobe and Drake. There was a message from her:

To: prettybiggirl@ggd.com

From: tatsforless@ggd.com

Honeypie,

SCARE did not get Niobe and Drake. Like you, Billy Ray is going nuts trying to find them. He’s got agents looking for them all over Texas. It’s like they’ve vanished into thin air.

But he wants your ass. (He can’t have it because it’s mine, mine, MINE! LOL!)

You are in a world of shit right now. SCARE and BICC are hugely pissed about what went down in Cross Plains.

There are warrants out for your arrest. Aiding and abetting, resisting arrest, assault and battery, and a bunch of stuff I’m pretty sure they made up.

Hugs and Kisses,

Ink

I scrolled through my messages but there was nothing from Niobe or Drake. Their silence was beginning to frighten me. I knew they were angry about what had happened in Cross Plains. God knows, I wanted to throttle everyone at SCARE. I’d screwed up things there royally. There’s an ace talent to have: Fuck Up Girl. When she’s there, something’s bound to go wrong.