Read Online Speakeasy Dead: a P.G. Wodehouse-Inspired Romantic Zombie Comedy (Hellfire Universe Historicals) by Vicky Loebel - Free Book Online

cried out for Beau, were his more thoroughly than they’d ever been my own. I’d have died then and there to bring him back to life.
    Beau tipped me sideways. We kissed.
    I swooned.
    Next thing I knew, my zombie minion was halfway out the door.
    “Oh, no! It isn’t safe!” I scrambled after him. “Oh, won’t you listen?”
    “That’s showbiz, kid.” Beau kissed his fingertips. “So long!”
    “No, wait!” I couldn’t let him go. “Stop right now! That’s an order!”
    Beau laughed. And then he realized he couldn’t move.
    “You see,” I babbled. “Zombies belong . That’s how it works. Zombies, genies, most dead creatures except demons have to belong to someone, and Hans gave you to me.”
    He stared, frozen. Bitter resentment crept into his gaze. In one fell swoop, my heart shriveled and died. The full horror, the full cruelty of Hans-the-demon’s trick grew clear. Beau would hate me forever for making him my slave.
    “You can move now,” I said sadly. My body ached with shame. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry. But Beau was mine. For both our sakes, I had to keep my head. “Don’t try to leave again. Stay in this building. That’s my command.”
    “I see.” Beau squared his shoulders, the picture of injured pride.
    “Please don’t be angry,” I begged. “I’ll work this out. I’m not sure how, but Bernie and I will think of something. We always do. Give me a chance.”
    His face thawed slightly.
    “Try to be happy.” I grasped his hand. “I wish I’d saved you. This isn’t perfect, I know.”
    “It’s awful. The way I felt before.” Beau squeezed my fingers. “Not speaking. Barely feeling at all. Cut off and hungry. I’d rather die.”
    “Not any more you wouldn’t.” Ruth stood beside us. “A zombie’s soul is bound to its dead body. When your corpse is destroyed, your soul gets stuck wherever the flesh rots apart. Trust me, that’s worse.”
    “It won’t happen.” I hugged him. “We’re partners. We won’t let it. I won’t!”
    “Partners.” Beau turned his face away.
    “Meanwhile,” Ruth clamped one hand on each of our shoulders. “I wasn’t kidding. You need to see this. Now.”
    We followed Ruth to the coal room. Sunlight slashed through the open chute, dazzling my eyes.
    A truck engine rumbled outside.
    I blinked. Mr. Vargas’ once tidy coal room was a disaster, with empty liquor crates, loose straw, and stray bottles scattered around. A strange ladder was propped against the wall under the chute.
    “Someone’s been here.” I couldn’t believe it. No one in Falstaff was dumb enough to steal Priscilla’s booze. “We’ve been robbed. The liquor’s gone!”
    Beau found an open bottle and took a swig. “Want some, partner? ” He held it out.
    I shook my head.
    “I tried to tell you,” Ruth said. “And something else is gone, too. Someone .” She pointed to the brick wall separating the empty coal storage area from the furnace. “That’s where I left your janitor.”
    “Mr. Vargas?” I gasped. “You left him here?”
    “Partners.” Beau drained the bottle and searched a crate for more. “Like Echo and Narcissus.”
    “But where’d he go?” I asked. “The janitor couldn’t get up and walk away.”
    “Or maybe he could.” Ruth growled and a soft light appeared. Dried smears of blood trailed from the brick wall, across the floor, up the ladder, and out the chute. “Considering he’d just been eaten by a zombie.”
    “Partners.” Beau found more brandy and gulped it down. “Like Fatty Arbuckle and Virginia Rappe.”
    Outside, a motor roared. A set of gears clashed loudly.
    I climbed the ladder and tried to peer up through the coal chute but wasn’t tall enough to see outside. “Zombies are not contagious! They’re made with binding spells.” I’d checked this morning in The Girl’s Guide to Demons . “Aren’t they?”
    “Usually.” Ruth shrugged. “But then, zombies are not usually turned loose to