"Not so fast," I said. "She's not a vampire. She's a ghoul."

Don pulled on his eyebrow. He hardly had any hair left on the end of it. "Are you certain?"

"Certain as death," I replied. "Most of those photos are older-she obviously smartened up as picture quality got better and avoided the camera more-but the newer ones show more detail. She looks exactly human. No telltale crystal clarity to her flesh, so unless this chick uses the fountain of youth for her daily bath, she's got to be a ghoul."

Don digested this. Ghouls weren't our operation's forte, mainly because they weren't my forte. Bones had taught me everything there was to know about vampires, but ghouls? Bones had only covered the most essential basics there, i.e., how to kill them. Decapitation. And they didn't part easily with their heads.

"How much of a problem will this represent?" Don finally asked.

I shrugged. "On the plus side, ghouls don't have any power in their gaze, so we wouldn't need to worry about her mesmerizing anyone. But the rest is all on the negative side. For one, this chick goes after men. You've put me in a bunch of disguises, but unless you've got someone seriously talented in wardrobe, I won't be able to fake that. Two, she's not just trolling bars looking for an easy meal. She goes after rich men who don't have a lot of public visibility and even fewer family members. Three, she doesn't just eat them and run, she marries them first. I'm assuming that's to get her hands on their inheritance, but it throws a real curveball into our plans. We can't just check all the published engagement announcements to catch her before she eats her next husband."

Don pulled harder on his eyebrow. I resisted the urge to point him to the scissors so he could take care of it once and for all.

"Are you saying it can't be done?"

I'd been asking myself that same question since I realized what we were dealing with. On one hand, as Bones would say, we had to fight the battles we could win. It was impossible to bring every murderer to justice no matter how much he or she might deserve it, so sometimes we had to walk away. Live to fight another day and all that. On the other hand...

"It would involve a long-term operation the likes of which our team isn't properly prepared for," I said after a pause. "But yes. It can be done."

Don nodded, satisfied. "Then let's get started."

The forty-two members of my team stared at me with varying degrees of shock. Not that I blamed them. It wasn't every day I asked who wanted to volunteer to be a ghoul's boy toy turned chew toy.

Don stood behind me, a rarity. Normally he let me give the mission details to my team alone-unless you counted those secret sessions where he picked whose turn it was to spy on me. But in this case, his presence was a show of support for my dangerous, highly improbable plan.

"I'll do it," Tate said. His dark blue gaze swept over the men. "I'm second-in-command, so it's my risk to take."

My opinion of Tate had come a long way over the past fifteen months. When we first met, I thought Tate was a tight-ass who hadn't had an ounce of inspiration since he was a baby deciding on one tit or two. Now I knew Tate was someone who would walk through fire to save one of his men if they needed it. Hell, the only reason Juan led the last mission was because Tate still had some internal bleeding from the one before it, after trying to save a new recruit. Tate had almost worn his guts on his back after one hard undead punch. The recruit died anyway. Once someone's throat is gone, there's no saving them. But the point is, Tate had tried.

Yeah, Tate was fearless and tough. Which was why he couldn't be the volunteer.

"No," I said shortly. "You're right, Tate, you're second-in-command, so the risk does fall to you. But it's the risk to lead these men if I go down for the count. Not to be ghoul-bait on this mission."

"Juan would be perfect for this... once he wakes up." A recruit named Dave chuckled.

There was more laughter even as I cringed in guilt over Juan's condition. Yes, Juan was a real ladies' man, to put it nicely. Calling him a tramp would be more accurate.

Come to think of it, being knocked out for a couple of days might do Juan a world of good. But if he doesn't wake up by tomorrow, I promised myself, I'm giving him a pint of my blood, Don's rules be damned.

Three more of the men volunteered. I waited, but there were no more takers. Then I gave the three guys a cool, evaluating stare. No, not Peter. He's too prejudiced against the undead; he'd puke in the ghoul's mouth the first time she tried to kiss him. Jeff, hmmm. He's a good soldier. Open-minded enough for the job too, but... Oh, forget it. He's as sexy as a vegetable sandwich!

That left Edward. He was a newer recruit, which made me hesitant, but he'd performed well in the field, didn't have a pathological hatred of the undead, and he was easy enough on the eyes.

"You, Edward," was all I said.

He gulped and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Now to turn Edward into irresistible man-meat that no inheritance-hunting ghoul could refuse...

Chapter Ten.

Original Beginning of One Foot in the Grave

Author's Note: I mentioned before that I tend to overwrite my beginnings, and thus a lot gets cut later from them. One Foot in the Grave was no exception. If anything, I had to cut far more from this than I did from the original beginning of Halfway to the Grave. In these original chapters, you see a lot more of Cat interacting with her team. Tate, Juan, Dave, and Don had become a sort of surrogate family to her, and in addition to that, she used saving people as a way of self-medicating the pain she still felt from leaving Bones. However, as much as Cat did grow up during the years that she and Bones were apart (and savvy readers will note the difference in those years from this version to the one that was published) she still hadn't outgrown her innate tendency toward recklessness.

"Gentlemen." Tate's voice boomed through the thick walls I waited behind. He really got into his speeches. "All of you represent the top of your field in weapons, combat, espionage, or infiltration. You come from different branches of the military, the Bureau, the CIA, and even the criminal justice system. Gentlemen, you are the toughest there is." Tate paused for dramatic effect. I rolled my eyes. "And you are all going to fail."

Even through the solid concrete and metal, I heard a slight shuffle from the men at this proclamation. I shouldn't be able to hear anything, but my hearing was far from normal. Hell, I was far from normal, as these men were about to find out. If Tate would hurry it up already.

"Out of the twenty of you who enter this room, we only expect a few to make the cut. Do not remove any of your protective gear. Once these doors close behind you, they will not open again until this exercise is over. Remember, participation is voluntary. Any of you who choose to decline, step forward. This is your last chance."

More shifting, but no one chickened out. Usually no one did, not if they'd gotten this far.

"Men," Tate concluded, and the glee in his voice almost made me smile. This was his favorite part. "You have only one objective in this exercise. Defeat the enemy!"

The doors slid open to reveal a large square room lined with padding from top to bottom. Such insulation allowed for longer training sessions, but somehow I didn't think it was completely appreciated.

There was a shocked silence. Tate was grinning now. My other two captains, Juan and Dave, wore similar smiles.

One of the potential recruits looked to them in confusion. "Sir...? There's, um, nothing in here but a woman, sir."

Well, score one to him for stating the obvious.

"Lesson one, soldier," Tate said firmly. "Don't believe for a moment that because something looks harmless it is harmless. What's the matter with you men? She is the enemy. Defeat the enemy!"

"Come and get me, boys," I taunted, anxious to get started.

A collective bellow erupted from the group as they charged me. When the first few got close enough, I simply started flinging them into the air. There were muted sounds of bodies thwacking against the padded walls followed by surprised yelps. One after another I threw them, until all twenty had experienced the dubious joy of flight.

The men rolling around on the ground stared at me with disbelief. Guess they hadn't figured a five-eight chick with a medium build could toss them clear across the room.

"Cat," Dave called out. "Teach these slops what lesson number two is."

To demonstrate, I grabbed the nearest soldier and promptly broke his nose. It happened so fast he was bleeding before he even knew I'd moved.

"Lesson two is take every cheap shot."

Someone muttered, "Did you see that?" as if needing confirmation. Time for the third instruction.

"And lesson three is take every low blow."

A hard kick to the groin of one of the men caused him to bellow in agony. Sympathetic winces appeared on every male face. The one whose balls got blasted rolled on the ground, curled around his parts.

"But the most fun is lesson four. Always, always kick someone when they're down."

To punctuate the point, I drew back my foot and nailed the same poor recruit, feeling three of his ribs break with the contact.

"Let's get the bitch!" someone yelled.

If only I had a dime for every time I heard that.

The fighting began in earnest and lasted ten minutes. After all, cameras were rolling. I had been criticized before for being too quick and not leaving enough footage. My boss, Don Williams, always complained about something.

When it was over, all the potential recruits were either unconscious or flailing on the floor. My three captains-Tate, Dave, Juan-and I picked through them to choose our new members.

"No, not that one. He wet himself. Thank God these mats are washable."

I nudged the next one in the face with my toe and got a bloodshot glare in return as the man slapped at my foot.

"That one," Juan nodded, pointing to the soldier at my feet.

A nod from me sent special personnel to retrieve him.

"What about him?" Dave inquired when we came to one who didn't even twitch. He'd been thrown through the air seven times before going night-night.

"Good pick," I said. "He just kept coming back." Another jerk of my head and he too was carted away.

"Fucking freak," a low voice hissed.

I walked toward its direction. The others hadn't heard him, but they followed me.

"You sure you want to be saying that?" I asked as I ground my heel into his bashed rib cage, forcing a wheeze of air from him. Brown eyes stared up with fury from a face that looked mulatto.

"Fuck you," the man spat.

I turned to Tate. "Oh, I like him," I said. "He'll do."

Tate chuckled his agreement and away Foul Mouth went, cursing me the entire time.

"Anyone else?" They looked around while I cracked my back to relieve a kink. "Right, then. Three. Well, that'll offset the loss at least."

We hadn't had a banner month. One in our unit had died a gruesome death. Two more dropped out right after, unable to handle the horror of witnessing it.

"Hopefully they'll last," Dave added.

I shrugged. "We'll see. We play the hand we're dealt." Oh, if they only knew who had taught me most of the advice I now dispensed. "I'm off to the showers. Got blood in my hair."

The blood was only a few shades darker than my hair itself, which was a pure crimson red. Along with my pale skin and gray eyes, I looked exactly like my father, or so my mother had said. She hadn't meant it as a compliment.

Juan and Dave said good-bye, but Tate walked with me. He had a far-off smile on his face.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was just remembering the day we met. Every time I see the recruit's faces when those doors open, it reminds me. When Don told me you were more than human, I didn't believe him. Not until you broke my arm and threatened to blow my brains out with my own gun."

A stab of grief went through me that I carefully concealed. I had vivid memories of that day as well, but not of him. No, not of him.

"If you reminisce further you'll recall that you were about to shoot me," I pointed out. "I was only defending myself. Now as for Don, well, okay. I broke his kneecaps out of spite."

"I can't believe it's been six years," Tate marveled. "Don thought you'd turn on us and I'd have to kill you inside six months."

"I'll bear that in mind when I buy his next Christmas present." My voice was dry but this wasn't news to me.

"Well, you have a while to hold that grudge. You'd be better off shafting him on his birthday in April."

We reached my locker room. Due to my gender, mine was separate. I was the only female in our unit. Don had once said he didn't want any internal "conflicts of interest," but I thought he was just being a sexist pig.

"If it makes you feel any better, I thought very little of you also when we first met. Who knew you'd be the one I counted on the most?"

Tate smiled. "Who knew you'd be the bravest, meanest bitch I'd ever served with? I'm glad you didn't shoot me. I would have missed out."

I smiled back. "I'm glad I didn't shoot you too, because I'd probably be dead if I had."

He laughed at that. "No, you wouldn't. I'm only good enough to take on the ones that are too easy for you. You do all the hard work."

I shook my head but didn't respond as I went inside. He didn't understand. If it weren't for him, Dave, and Juan, I would have given up years ago.

It wasn't easy being a genetic fluke. To all those who say there aren't things that go bump in the night, I say look closer. My mother didn't believe in vampires, either, until a blind date took a horrible, toothy turn. That vampire didn't just bite her, he also raped her, and then several months later there was me. To say I had a weird childhood was to put it mildly. I hadn't even known why I was different until I turned sixteen and my mother told me the real truth about my father. About the only thing I hadn't inherited from dead old dad were pointy teeth and the need for a liquid diet Don found me at twenty-two when I got into a little trouble with the law. You know, the usual youthful stuff. Killed the governor of Ohio and several of his staff, but hey, they had it coming. After I was arrested, my funky pathology reports tattled on me for not being totally human. Don snapped me up to lead his branch of "Homeland Security" by giving me the quintessential offer I couldn't refuse. Or death threat, to be more accurate. I'd taken the job. What choice did I have?

Chapter Eleven.

When Cat Met Belinda, aka Sunshine