While the Cat's Away...
an excerpt

...the mice will play.

“And you’ve got your cell phone, right, in case we need to call you?”
Letting out a sound of exasperation, Zapkilikan flipped the lid of her suitcase down with the flick of a pale wrist and rounded on her brother, “Of course! For the last time, Zipartas, yes, I have everything! Would you stop worrying so much?” Her annoyed frown morphed into a smile, and she lightly hit her sibling in the shoulder. “It’s only Australia, for God’s sake. It’s not that far away.”
“Unfortunately.” Perched cross legged on the edge of the bed where his cousin’s suitcase lay, Zimpar idly brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his button-down shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his elbows. “Too bad you couldn’t be going somewhere more distant. Like Pluto.”
“Shut up, or I’ll take you with me.” Not even bothering to turn around, the vampiress waved a hand over her shoulder, grinning at Zipartas as he laughed. “God only knows it may keep you two from getting into less trouble.”
“Oh, I suspect that we’ll manage to hold the fort well enough.” Childishly, Zipartas stuck out his tongue, smirking. “Oh, ye of little faith. How much trouble could we possibly get into?”
The golden eyed woman shot her brother a skeptical look, arching one eyebrow questioningly. “...Would you really like me to answer that? I don’t think you do.”
“Self-righteous little twit. Like you don’t get into trouble yourself.” Appearing behind her, Zimpar hooked his hands under his shorter cousin’s shoulders and lifted her into the air, before setting her down to his right. Turning, he quickly zipped up her suitcase, turning yet again just in time to dodge the kick she had aimed at his groin.
“Oi! Watch it. I need those.”
“That’s what you get for picking me up and swinging me around like a sack of potatoes.” Smiling cheerfully, Zapkilikan took the suitcase from Zimpar’s hand. “If I didn’t have to leave right now, I’d really make you pay. Just because you’re so much taller than me. Jackass.”
“And I’m still taller than both of you.” Smirking, Zipartas snatched the luggage from his sister’s hand, shifting it to his left and holding it out of her reach as she tried to grab it. He nimbly sidestepped the heel she tried to slam into his toes, and looped an arm around her waist, flipping her over and draping her over his shoulder. “And down to the main floor we go.”
“Zipartas, you son of a bitch, put me down!”
Laughing, the elder vampire loped out of the bedroom, before springing down the stairs, his sister beating ineffectually at his back, and with Zimpar following in amusement. The three paraded through the length of the second floor, before bounding down the set of stairs that led to the first floor, and the entrance hall. The house was a hodgepodge of various styles, but the entryway was more like a Victorian parlor than anything else.
Reaching the door, Zipartas stepped to the side, gesturing as well as he could with the hand holding Zapkilikan’s suitcase. “Zimpar, could you get the door, please?”
Making overdramatic grumbling noises, the curly haired vampire shuffled forward, purposefully dragging his feet to show disdain for such a mundane task that was asked of him. He heaved a loud sigh. “If I must, Lord Primus.”
Zipartas rolled his eyes. “Just get on with it. Or I’ll give you enough paperwork to last all of Zapkilikan’s trip.”
“Blech.” Making a disgusted face, Zimpar pulled open the door, squinting against the bright sunshine that spilled in from outside. “Gods! I think my eyes have just been assaulted by Apollo.” Blinking repeatedly to clear his vision, he stepped away from the door and to the side, shielding his eyes as he stood on the porch.
“If the sun bothers you that much, buy some bloody sunglasses. Zipartas, would you please put me down now?”
“I suppose so.” Nevertheless, the green eyed vampire waited until he was at the bottom of the concrete steps before he set her down on the cobble-stone paved walk in the front yard. In the bright June sunlight, the green grass seemed a hue that was so rich it seemed almost false to the sight. It was dappled with shadow by the cottonwood trees lining the street.
“And a good day to you three. I take it you’re ready, Miss Piper?”
Parked along the edge of the road was a stylish red sports car, glistening like fresh blood in the sunlight. The wheels were a platinum silver in color, seemed to have been polished, and were painful to look at with the way they almost glowed. Leaning against the driver door was a rather average sized man with auburn hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a smart but classy black suit, a tie of dark blue hanging like a pendulum around his neck. As his three friends looked up, Mallory flashed a fang-lined grin.
“If these two hooligans quit giving me grief, then yes, I am.” Gesturing back over her shoulder at her family members, Zapkilikan picked up her suitcase and trotted down the cobble stone path. Zipartas followed her, with Zimpar trailing more reluctantly behind, hands in pockets now that his vision had adjusted to the light of the day.
“And you’ve got Raphael with you, right? And a pistol, too? And a knife?”
“Gah!” Dropping her suitcase into the trunk of the sports car after Mallory had popped it, Zapkilikan turned to her brother with a slightly maniac look. “Yes, my Tommy gun is in the suitcase; yes, the pistol is firmly holstered at my hip; yes, I have a large knife strapped just above my left knee. Not to mention I can more than handle my own in any fight. For the last time, I’m only going to help Mallory sort out some black market stuff. I will be. Perfectly. Fine.” As though to even further accentuate her words, Zapkilikan slammed the trunk shut. Noting Mallory’s wince at the excess of force, she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. No damage done to your prized car, I promise.”
“I should hope not. Otherwise I’d be taking it out of Zipartas’ wallet, for making you so angry.” Whirling in disbelief to face the mafia boss, Zipartas started to speak, and Mallory laughed. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Now hurry up and say goodbye. We have a private jet to catch.”
Zimpar rolled his eyes. “If it’s a private jet, then you don’t have to catch it. It isn’t going to leave without you.”
The blue eyed vampire shrugged. “Punctuality is the politeness of kings. Because of that, I’d rather be early than punctual.”
Twisting to face Zimpar, Zapkilikan grinned and raised a hand in the air. He chuckled a little, and raised his as well, granting the high five. “Take care of yourself, you little brat.”
“Bah. Like I won’t. Don’t get yourself killed while I’m gone.”
“Buh-bye, little sister.” Picking her up for the second time that day, Zipartas wrapped her in a crushing hug. Laughing breathlessly, she hugged him back, before letting go as he lowered her back to the ground. “See you, Zipartas. Don’t let Zimpar get himself killed. And don’t get yourself killed, either.”
Her brother saluted as Mallory got into the driver’s side, and Zapkilikan skirted around the front edge of the car, pulling open the passenger door. Glancing over the top of the vehicle again, her features turned a little more serious. “If I come home and the house is ruined, or one of you is dead, I will kill you, or resurrect you and then kill you again. Stay out of trouble, or else.” She frowned threateningly, but couldn’t hold the expression for long, before smiling again. “Don’t have too much fun.” Waving swiftly, she ducked into the car. Mallory honked the horn once in farewell, before pulling away from the curb.
The two cousins waited until the sports car was out of sight before they turned away. As they walked back to the house at a leisurely pace, Zimpar turned to Zipartas. “How long is she going to be gone, again?”
“Three weeks. She’ll be in Australia for three weeks.”
They paused at the bottom of the steps, and yellow eyes met green ones before they both broke into wide grins and sprinted through the doorway.