Page 23 of Zomromcom

Well, yes. But she was more invested in not getting murdered due to her unwilling acquisition of information about his gang’s criminal enterprises.

“It’s okay, Doug. I know you have”—she gestured toward the roomful of armed people—“um, a lot happening right now.”

He frowned. “But it’s so interesting. We prefer to use the basic Colombian method—”

Austin’s eyes flicked to the ceiling above. “Glorious mother of the gods.”

“It’s fine, Austin. Her full name”—Belinda’s chin tipped in Edie’s direction—“is in Brad and Tonya’s videos.

We can easily find her address. I’m sure I can find her companion’s information as well, so we don’t need to kill two of our favorite content providers for knowing too much.

No matter what Doug tells them.” She raised her eyebrows at them, then gripped the handle of her axe.

“I assume both of you realize what’ll happen if you run your mouths. Correct?”

Involuntarily, Edie glanced at Doug. Take us into your gang and tolerate us with exasperated affection?

For the first time, Austin’s expression turned severe. “Doug’s a true artist and our friend. We need him. We don’t need you. Understood?”

In that moment, both he and Belinda appeared more than willing to eliminate any perceived threats to their business concerns.

“Understood,” Edie told him, mentally ordering all pertinent government officials not to conduct a random, entirely unprompted sweep of the mall in the near future.

Max simply said, “Yes.”

Austin swiveled on his heel to face Doug. “We’ll talk about discretion later. Again. But right now…” His sigh sounded heartfelt. “Go to town, man. It’s okay.”

Joy beamed from Doug’s narrow face and quivered in his mustache.

“Let me tell you more about Colombian counterfeiting methods,” he said happily.

“They take advantage of the way various values of US currency share a common bill size. If you use the same paper, the bills will feel right, even if they’re counterfeit, so we print our notes on one-dollar bills, which we turn into hundred-dollar bills using bleach and—”

Max scrubbed his free hand over his face, exhaling slowly. “Don’t ask questions, Edie.”

They weren’t going to die. Somehow, they weren’t going to die.

Jittery with the hormonal backwash of her fight-or-flight response, she nodded, clutched Max’s arm, and let Doug guide them out of Pottery Barn and toward Sharper Image and Brookstone.

She hoped she got to try out the massage chairs. She could use a bit of stress relief.

***

Several hours later, Edie had taken Doug’s impromptu tour of the gang’s facilities, learned much, much more than she’d ever expected to know about the artistic precision and technology involved in creating fake money, and grown decidedly twitchy.

Counterfeiting truly did interest her on an academic level, and Doug was a total sweetheart, but she and Max should have left long, long ago.

The problem: She couldn’t risk upsetting Doug or offending their criminal hosts.

The one time she’d launched into cautious apologies for cutting the tour short, Max’s mouth had covered hers in a very firm, very purposeful kiss after about three words.

That kiss hadn’t said, I want you . It said, Shut the hells up, Edie .

So she did, and here they were. Out of time.

The sun had met the horizon before Counterfeiting 101: Faking Currency for Fun and Profit wound down for the day, and only a fool would travel at night with zombies on the loose.

Which was a subject Max had quietly discussed with Belinda and Austin, all while Doug had been demonstrating to Edie how to print a yellowish watermark on a bleach-thinned dollar bill and attach a fake thread onto a second bill before the two bills got glued together to achieve the appearance and thickness of a legitimate hundred-dollar note.

It really was ingenious. She wished she could have paid more attention to the process instead of eavesdropping as Max told the lead counterfeiters what they needed to know about the breach and discussed how they could best protect themselves and their entire gang.

The zombies might not have stumbled upon the mall yet, but it was only a matter of time.

When the threesome had left, along with a handful of others, to conduct a sweep of the property and secure it against possible zombie intrusion, she’d had to ask Doug to repeat himself. Which, thankfully, hadn’t appeared to bother him. He seemed used to it.

Now that everyone had returned to Brookstone, Max was confirming the bargain he’d reached with Belinda and Austin. As she listened, Edie let a worn massage chair dig deep into her stiff lumbar region and basked in the warmth of an electric heater.

“As agreed, you’ll let us access your shower and bathroom facilities, stay overnight in the Pottery Barn, and leave at dawn tomorrow, all in guaranteed safety.

” One by one, Max ticked the items off, his expression alert and unsmiling.

“You’ll also supply us with a towel, soap, shampoo, and a dry set of clothing that fits me adequately. Correct?”

Belinda nodded. “Correct.”

“Don’t—” The calf massager kicked into gear, and Edie had to pause. Damn. That thing should be freaking bronzed . “Don’t forget the measuring spoons.”

After she’d mentioned the spoons to Doug, Austin had taken a gander around Williams Sonoma and returned brandishing the exact set Edie had been hoping to find.

The one with the weird measures, including two-thirds and three-quarters of a teaspoon.

At which point he’d proceeded to hold the set hostage until an official agreement had been reached.

He had the nerve to grin at her, the jerk. “We won’t forget them, Edie. They’re a key bargaining chip for our side.”

Unperturbed by the interruption, Max added, “You will also give Edie her measuring spoons. In return, we promise to remain in either the Pottery Barn or the bathroom at all times, except while en route from one location to the other. We will not share your presence or activities here with the authorities or anyone else, no matter the circumstances.”

“Oh!” Doug straightened from where he’d been slumped in his own massage chair. “Edie said she’d help troubleshoot my cupcake soap once she got back home. She thinks I didn’t make the trace thick enough for the frosting.”

“I have no idea what that means, but okay.” Belinda turned to Austin. “I meant to tell you, Max agreed to show me how to do a smoky eye in shades of red without looking like I have conjunctivitis. So let’s make that an official part of our bargain too.”

“Yeah, your first attempt was…unfortunate.” Austin’s face scrunched up in pained reminiscence. “Is that everything?”

Nods all around.

“Then the bargain is set.” When Belinda slid her axe partway from its sling, it glinted in the glare of the work light placed in the store’s corner. “As a reminder, if the agreement’s terms get broken—”

“It won’t be by us,” Edie quickly interjected.

The other woman let her weapon settle back into place. “Excellent.”

“I know!” Doug dropped his chair’s remote and pointed at Edie and Max. “You should have dinner with us. We can make sushi!”

Belinda stared at him. “Really? We’re feeding our intruders now?”

Doug’s mustache drooped. “What’s the point of making counterfeit money if we can’t spend it on our friends?”

“Fine, fine. Get the sticky rice going.” Austin waved a hand, then directed his attention to Max and Edie. “I assume you’ll stay for dinner?”

The exact cause of Max’s faintly disgruntled look wasn’t clear to Edie.

Maybe he’d reached his socialization limit.

Maybe he’d rather not have to eat human food and continue pretending he wasn’t, in fact, a super-old, superstrong vampire and thus a salient threat to the counterfeiters. Maybe he simply didn’t like sushi.

It made no difference. No matter what either of them wanted, there was only one correct response to give to the armed criminal gang surrounding them.

“We’d be delighted,” she answered for them both.