Time to die.
Cold, hard fear knotted inside me. “What did you do to him?” A gasp punctuated the question as my stomach contracted again, the reflex sharper this time. Painful.
She smiled and held up the bottle. “The same thing I’m going to do to you.”
I stared through the clear glass at the half inch of red liquid. For the first time, I noted the tiny particles that swam around inside.
“Garlic,” she added. “While we’re not susceptible to the stuff when it’s worn around someone’s neck—talk about an old wives’ tale—it’s hell on the intestines.”
My gut clenched again and I grasped the edge of the table to keep from doubling over. “I thought the goal was to punish me, not kill me,” I ground out, my teeth clenched as I fought against another wave of pain.
“It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. It hurts now, doesn’t it?” she asked as she leaned into me. Her lips grazed my ear. “That’s your own fault. If you had drunk more instead of denying what you are, it wouldn’t be so painful now. Instead, you would simply shut down like that delicious-looking bounty hunter of yours. Now that man can drink. Later, love. I’ll give Remy your best.”
Through the pain deafening me, I heard the door close and I knew she’d left. I tried to see past the white dots dancing in front of my eyes. I had to get up and check on Ty. I had to…
The thought faded in another rush of pain so intense that I sank to the floor this time. Another squeeze of my insides and everything went black.
“Lil? You in there?”
The name echoed in my ears, followed by a loud pounding that made my head hurt that much more.
Go away, I silently pleaded. Just go away.
Another frantic bam, bam, bam and the noise stopped.
There. That was better—
BAM!
The loud crash thundered through my head a split second before large hands gripped my shoulders.
My body screamed, pain exploding in my stomach, so fierce and consuming that my eyes started to water and I doubled over.
“Lil?”
“Stop,” I groaned. “Don’t move me.” The grip eased and the pain subsided enough for me to open my eyes.
Lloyd’s blurry shape loomed above me.
I blinked until his image came into focus.
He wore the same shirt he’d worn to Viola’s. A massive hickey purpled his neck. Worry creased his brow and a frown drew his mouth tight.
“Lloyd?” My lips felt thick. Too thick to talk even, but I tried anyway. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be making werewolf babies?”
“What? I can’t hear you. Your voice is cracking.”
Thankfully. Werewolf babies? Where was my head?
Being bludgeoned to death by tiny little construction workers bent on sending me straight to hell.
My eyelids fluttered and Lloyd gave me another quick shake.
My eyes popped open. “Shit,” I ground out, my voice louder this time. “What are you doing? Trying to kill me?”
“I came by to thank you for last night, but then you didn’t answer the door and I heard you moan and—”
The words stumbled to a halt when I held up my hand. “Whisper. Please.”
“What the hell happened?”
The question stuck in my head, pushing back all the pain and clearing the way for the rush of memories.
Ayala and the garlic-tainted blood and—
“Ty.” I grasped at Lloyd’s arms. “I…He’s…Oh no.”
“Just calm down.” Lloyd tried to push me back down. “Don’t move. He’s sleeping.”
“He isn’t.” I struggled to my feet, despite his large hands which tried to push me back down. “He’s hurt. He’s…”
I refused to finish the thought and struggled to my feet instead. In a blur of pain, I stumbled toward the bed where he still lay on his side, his back to me.
I grasped his shoulder and tugged. He rolled over, his face as passive as if he were in a deep, dark sleep.
Or finally, really, and truly dead.
No!
I leaned over and touched my hand to his chest, and felt a faint thud against my palm. Relief swamped me. His heart was still beating.
For now.
“We have to get him to a hospital,” Lloyd said, coming up behind me. “I’ll get the minivan.”
“We don’t have time.” I grappled for the cell phone that sat on the nightstand and punched in a familiar number. “We have to bring the hospital to him.”
“Thanks for coming,” I told Jack less than an hour later. I sat on the sofa and watched as Mandy checked the bright red bag of blood that fed an IV tube inserted in Ty’s left arm.
“It sounds like his blood’s been poisoned. If so, the red cells are fighting in a no-win situation with the white ones. They’re destroying each other,” she’d told me when I’d described the situation to her in my frantic phone call. “That means we have to pump in as much new, healthy blood as possible in order to replenish the supply.”
She’d come with several bags from a local blood bank and had arrived in record time thanks to Jack, who’d done his Superman imitation and given Mandy a quick ride rather than driving his Beamer.
I glanced at the IV tube in my own arm. My blood had been poisoned, as well, but not to the same degree because I’d had only a few swallows compared to Ty’s nearly full bottle. Once the blood had started to flow, I’d felt better almost immediately.
Ty wasn’t progressing as well.
“He’ll be all right,” Jack told me as if reading my worried thoughts. “Mandy said it’s just going to take time.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“I almost didn’t.” When I raised a questioning brow, he added, “I was counting on you to be there at the tea and take some of the heat off me.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Instead, I had mom’s full attention.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“I’m assuming she’s not half as excited about the wedding as you and Mandy are.”
“Are you kidding? She’s ready to hire one of those cult guys to kidnap and deprogram me. The only thing keeping her in check is Mandy. When Mom blew, Mandy threatened to put a hex on her.”
“Mandy’s not a witch.”
“You know that and I know that. Mom, however, is convinced otherwise. Especially since Mandy’s ancestor was burned at the stake.”
“I can’t believe you guys told her.”
“Mandy thought it would make things easier.” He eyed the woman wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Ty’s upper arm. “It worked.”
I remembered Mandy’s excitement. “But not in the way she thought.”
He nodded. “But beggars can’t be choosers. Mom’s scared of being turned into a frog, that or getting a few wrinkles from an aging spell, so she’s agreed to keep her mouth shut.”
“Lucky you.”
“We could always tell her your boyfriend there was a warlock before he was turned.”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just having sex.”
Just sex, I reminded myself again.
Which didn’t begin to explain the tightness gripping my chest.
Then again, Ty and I were friends. It made sense that I would be concerned over his well-being. It wasn’t like I was afraid for him or anything like that.
It’s just that Ayala was still out there, still trying to ruin my life, and she wasn’t going to stop until I stopped her.
“I need you to do something for me,” I told Jack as a plan started to form.
“This isn’t going to work,” Jack told me an hour later. We’d left Mandy with Ty and headed for Mandy’s apartment and a final showdown with Ayala.
“She didn’t recognize your voice, did she?”
“She’s never heard my voice.”
“Exactly. And she’s never been to this apartment before?”
“No, but it’s an apartment. Not a l
awyer’s office.”
“But you told her this was an informal call, right? That you’re just a hardworking professional trying to do what’s right despite a bunch of pushy werewolves. If said werewolves are your clients, then it makes sense that you couldn’t invite their enemy to your office. You would have to meet her on the side.” I motioned around Mandy’s immaculate living room. “Here. Stop worrying. It’ll work. She thinks you’re a pretentious born vampire just like her and that you’re betraying your client’s trust because, hey, pretentious born vampires stick together.”
He looked doubtful. “She’s managed to frame you for murder. She’s smart. Too smart to fall for a scam like this.”
“If she thinks that Brian the werewolf left her a shitload of money in his will and his family is trying to keep it from her, she’ll come. Money motivates people.”
People being the key word. But Ayala wasn’t a person. She was a vampire with all the attributes that come with being a denizen of the undead, including superior intelligence. But—and this is what I was counting on—she was also female. In her own twisted way, she’d loved Brian. I’d seen it in her eyes.
When they hadn’t been gleaming with a crazed light, that is.
On top of that, she was greedy.
“She’ll be here,” I told Jack. “Did you call Remy?”
He nodded. “He’s on his way.”
“Good.” I retrieved the small tape recorder that Mandy used during her autopsy assists from the pocket of her lab jacket—right where she said I’d find it—and slid it into the pocket of my grimy but still fab Diane von Furstenberg.
“What if you can’t get her to confess?” Jack asked as I settled on the living room sofa.
“She’ll confess.”
“And if she doesn’t? What are you going to do then?”
“I’m going to kick her ass.”
“And what if she kicks your ass first?”
I gave him a determined smile. “At least I’ll go down with a fight.”
Ayala showed up exactly thirty minutes later. Jack answered the door. “Sorry I had to have you come here,” he apologized as he ushered her into the apartment and closed the door. “But Brian’s relatives are adamant that you know nothing about the stipulations of the will. They’re paying me quite well, but I took an oath and I feel obligated to do the right thing.”
“That’s admirable of you,” Ayala said as she followed him the few steps toward the living room. Thanks to his luscious scent, she’d tuned in to him first and so she hadn’t even noticed me sitting in the corner. The moment her gaze touched me, however, she came up short.
“What are you doing here?” Her gaze swiveled back to Jack. “You’re not a lawyer.”
“Finally the vamp senses kick in,” I said.
“What about Brian’s will?”
“There is no will. I mean, maybe there was. I didn’t check. But if there had been, he obviously didn’t leave anything to you. Why would he? You dumped him and practically killed him.”
Her gaze narrowed. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to help you. It’s obvious you have some serious anger management issues, Ayala. While I’m not an expert on the subject, hacking someone to pieces is usually a clear sign of inner aggression.”
“Toward you. I hate you.”
“Good, good. Get it off your chest.” She gave me another strange look. “Confession is good for the soul. I bet if you let it all out, all the sordid details about what you did to Keith, you’ll feel much better.”
“I feel fine.”
“Now, but you’re sure to have nightmares for years. You hacked him up, Ayala. Into tiny little pieces. There was blood everywhere. And I bet he screamed. I bet he begged.” Okay, so I was making myself a little queasy. I fought down a rising wave of nausea and plowed forward. “I bet he even prayed.”
“Not as much as you’re going to,” she said a split second before she pulled a gun from her pocket and fired off a shot at Jack. He flew back against the wall and slid toward the floor. I knew he wasn’t permanently injured, but it still shook me. Long enough for Ayala to pounce.
In a flash, she leaned into me. But it wasn’t a gun that she pressed to my chest. It was a letter opener, the tip sharp and lethal.
This was it. I cast a frantic glance at my brother.
While I knew he wasn’t mortally wounded—already his body was expelling the bullet—he was still bleed ing profusely, his arms and legs limp. Pain contorted his expression and gripped his body.
The sweet scent of toffee-covered peanuts filled my nostrils (I know, gross, right?) and my stomach jumped.
“I thought you wanted me to suffer,” I told her, stalling for time. Where the hell was Remy?
“I told you back at the cabin, I changed my mind,” she told me. “I want you dead.”
Maybe so, but I didn’t want me dead.
In a split second, I brought my hand up and smacked her upside the head with enough force to throw her back several inches. Before I could gather my strength again, she lunged.
I ducked and rolled, crashing into the coffee table.
I was about to smack her again when the door crashed open and Remy arrived. He had a gun of his own. One shot and she crumpled at my feet, temporarily of course, but it was long enough for Remy’s men to sur round and seize her.
“I guess she wasn’t the perfect one for me,” he said, coming over to me. “And to think we had such a good time.”
I glared at him. “Don’t even think about asking for your money back.”
His eyes twinkled. He grinned and, despite my undying like for Ty, I actually felt a strange warmth in the pit of my stomach. “You can owe me.”
“We need more ribs,” Mandy declared as she burst through the swinging doors that led into the massive kitchen. “They’re eating everything.” She dropped an empty platter on the marble island cabinet where I stood arranging a mountain of hot wings into the shape of a baby carriage. “And snarling. And one of them even growled at me.”
“They’re all about to pop.” It had been eight and a half months since the night of the full moon and I had twenty-eight pregnant werewolves sitting in the adjoining living room.
I’d left Evie to handle things at Dead End Dating and roped Mandy into cohosting the Big Event aka a group baby shower for Viola and the NUNS. Evie had been hurt at first, but I’d convinced her that I simply couldn’t concentrate unless I knew I had someone competent to take care of things in my absence. That, and I’d kissed ass with a gift card for Neiman Marcus.
The growling was tame compared to what might happen if they got too excited or too upset, and I couldn’t afford to lose a great assistant. Mandy, on the other hand, was practically family. And a doctor. And, therefore, fully armed with a syringe full of sedatives should things get a little wild.
I topped off the display with saucers of ranch dip for the wheels and slid it toward her. “This will keep them happy while I carve the rump roast.”
She glanced down and her harried expression softened for a few frantic heartbeats. “Totally cute.” Her gaze shifted to mine. “You’re so good at this catering thing.”
I shrugged. “It’s all about the connections. In this case, a butcher over on Third Street who sells bulk.”
She eyed me. “How are you with flowers?”
“I can hold my own. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just that I’m so busy with my schedule and Jack’s never planned this sort of thing before.” She gave me a hopeful smile. “It would be so great if you could help with the wedding plans. Jack really wants his family involved, and your mother doesn’t seem to be taking a big part in things.”
The only thing my mother was “taking” as far as Dr. Mandy was concerned was a double dose of Valium whenever the newly engaged couple showed up for the hunt.
“I mailed her invitation samples last month,” Mandy went on, “so that she could have some time to look at them before we saw her.”
“And?”
“She sent them back with ‘Doesn’t Live Here Anymore’ scribbled across the envelope.” A desperate light fueled her gaze. “It would mean so much to both of us. Please.”
No. Between drumming up new business and searching for mates for my current clients (Rachel the were-Chihuahua and Esther the made vampire, to name two), I’d barely had time to organize the baby shower. A wedding? With tons of frilly tulle and sprays of pink roses and a big frosty wedding cake?
“Okay.” What can I say? I’m a sucker for desperate. “Now go before they start gnawing off body parts.” When she gave me a startled expression, I smiled. “Just joking.” Not. “But you might want to hurry. As a precaution.”
Determination gripped her expression. She nodded, hefted the platter, and headed back through the swinging doors.
“One rump roast ready to go.” Lloyd came up next to me and set a roasting pan on the counter. “Extra rare.”
What’s up with that, right?
Well, since I didn’t know my spatula from my meat fork (for obvious reasons), I’d brought along Lloyd to man the barbecue pit. Besides, it seemed only fitting that he help out since he’d had a hand—or at least a fairly important body part—in what was now happening.
Even more, Lloyd owed me. While his weekends weren’t overflowing with dates, he had launched a brand-new stud service. See, one of the NUNS was having twins (the female with the Alpha Doody fetish). Turns out that bald men are bald because of a mega dose of testosterone, and so Lloyd had not only shot a bull’s-eye, he’d nailed it twice.
To make a long story short, Lloyd was booked for every lunar eclipse for the next ten years.
“Thanks.” I slid the slab of meat onto a giant white doily. “What about the brisket?”
“Coming right up.” He headed back to the monstrous barbecue pit that puffed away on the back patio.
Remy’s patio, to be exact.
Fairfield’s finest had been kind enough to offer up his house for the Big Event. In addition to saving my ass during the showdown with Ayala, that is.
Which meant I really owed him.
Luckily, I hadn’t had too much time to think about what that meant, or what he could possibly want from me, or the fact that at any given time he might decide to collect.
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